Page 30 of A Virgin for the Duke of Depravity (Ton’s Beasts #2)

“Where will we go?” She looked at him as if she were puzzled, a crease forming between her brows.

He ran a thumb over the lines and smiled at her, but she did not smile back.

“Devishire Mansion,” he said, leading her outside the door. “You are to be my bride. You are mine, or have you not heard?”

“I was yours when you thought my grandfather would harm me. But now that he has been arrested, he poses no threat to me,” she said very seriously.

“Do you still not understand?” Leo kept his voice low, but there was no mistaking the authority in his words. “I have told you all week that you are mine. I am merely here to claim what you have already promised.”

“Fine,” Margaret said. “We can discuss this elsewhere.”

She led the way through the dusty stone hallways of Riley Manor, and out to the stables. Leo’s carriage and his driver were ready, his horse nickering softly as they approached.

Margaret reached out and petted the horse’s velvet nose before she took Leo’s hand and hoisted herself up into the carriage. She fell into her seat and looked out the window, never making eye contact with him.

As for Leo, he could not help but look at her. His eyes were drawn to her as the moon drew the waves to the shore. He watched her so intently that he was certain she could feel his stare, a physical presence in the carriage with them.

“Shall we talk about it now?” Margaret did not even look at him as she asked the question.

“I do not know what there is to discuss. I have made my position quite clear. You are to be my wife. You would not refuse a duke’s command, would you?” Leo looked out the window beside him, feigning boredom with the conversation.

Margaret let out a breath but said nothing. He watched her tap her foot on the carriage floor, as if she were nervous or upset. He had seen her at Olympus. Surely, she could not be upset over getting married to him.

He knew that he was looking forward to some of the perks of marriage, even if his bride was more hesitant.

“I could return to the convent,” she said suddenly. “You do not have to take responsibility for me. You did not ruin me.”

“You will not return to that cursed place,” he vowed.

He did not even want to entertain the idea of her returning to the convent. Ever since she told him about the sisters’ harsh treatment of her, he knew he would never be able to live with himself if she went back.

He thought about the word he had used to describe her when he spoke with Aaron about her that first time. Defiant.

She would always have that spirit in her. No matter how hard the nuns tried to beat it out of her and to punish her for her defiance, it would only make her more likely to lean into it.

He almost laughed to himself. He had been attracted to her first because she was defiant. And it was now that same trait that had them at odds in his carriage. How fitting that they would end up the same way they had begun—with Margaret claiming some grievance that he did not understand.

Leo let the rest of the ride lapse into a tense silence. They were not so far from the Earl’s estate, and the ride passed without any further hiccups. Margaret practically leaped to her feet as soon as the carriage drew to a halt before the stables.

She did not want to wait for Leo’s help, but he grabbed her and held her back. Once she ran away from him, who knew when he would see her again?

Perhaps not until the wedding.

He needed to make sure she was alright with everything that had just happened. After all, she had watched him break her grandfather’s frail bones, and he had him arrested after he confessed to murder.

Surely, that would unsettle even the boldest of women.

“Are you alright?” Leo asked, before he lent her a hand to step out of the carriage and onto the path that led to Devishire Mansion.

Margaret refused to look at him, and he could not help but assume the worst.

Margaret had no idea how to respond.

Was she alright?

Would she ever be alright again?

Part of her felt like she could finally rest, knowing that there was nothing more she had to run from. Her father had warned her not to let her grandfather find her. Now, thanks to Leo, she would be free of him for the rest of her life.

And she knew what happened to her mother. Not just her father and his suspicions, but hard evidence that her mother’s heart did not simply give out.

And she would marry the Duke of Devishire, the one man who had intrigued her since the very first time he walked her out of a book club she should never have attended.

There were worse things in the world than being married to Leo. She thought of how close she had come to being married to Christopher or one of the other men who had shown up for the auction.

How different would her life be if Leo had been a few hours too late, her hand already given in marriage to one of her suitors?

But she refused to say any of that to him. She could not summon the words, much as she willed herself to.

“Yes.”

It was all she could manage.

Leo looked at her intently and then helped her down from the carriage. She turned to look at him before turning toward the path to the estate.

“The wedding is tomorrow,” he said when she was halfway to the door leading into the kitchens.

She turned to face him, her eyes betraying none of her emotions. There was a storm inside her: excitement over the prospect of marriage and all that it would bring her, sadness for what she had lost, anger that Leo thought he could make this decision for her.

When she did not speak, he added, “I will send word to Theresa and Aaron.”

“Are they not here?” Margaret asked, disappointed.

She had very much hoped that she would find Theresa inside, that she could confide in a friend as close as a sister, telling her about everything that had occurred.

“They took their leave earlier today,” he said.

Margaret detected the edge in his voice, but she could not figure out what had caused it. Her friend and her husband were supposed to stay for the party.

Was their ruse officially over?

“But—”

“No buts,” Leo said, the command back in his voice. “You’re marrying me, and that’s final. I will not tolerate any more threats to your life.”

“The only threat that I faced is gone now,” Margaret countered. “I am here at Devishire Mansion, but I no longer need your protection.”

“We will get married, but you will be free.” He shrugged, as if this was the only way things made sense.

Would she be so free as he seemed to think she would be? Certainly, the ton would permit her to do as she wanted with a duke as her husband. Theresa had built a good life with Aaron, and she seemed to love life here in London.

But something niggled at Margaret.

“What if I do not want that?” She willed her voice to remain even as she stared back at him.

If she showed even a tremor, a hint that she was so nervous to confront him, he would persuade her that she needed this.

“I do not have anything else to offer.” He raked a hand through his hair and left it mussed. “I will not go back on my word.”

Margaret rolled her eyes and heaved a long sigh. She could go back and forth with him all day, and she would never get through to him. Leo had this way of holding her at arm’s length that she detested.

She loved what he could do to her body. He had proven himself to be a very capable lover. The problem was that Margaret needed more than that. Lust was meaningless if she could never see his heart.

She could not help but stomp her foot in frustration. “Why do you insist on keeping me at a distance, even now?”

It was the question that burned into her mind. She had been as open as she could be with him, allowing him to see her vulnerable and raw. He had seen her cry. He had seen her angry. He had seen her undone.

Why was this so much to ask now that he claimed to want to be her husband?

He shook his head, looking at her sadly. The silence stretched between them, but Margaret did not move. She understood that she needed to wait for him to answer. Because everything hinged on that answer.

“Because I cannot care for my wife. That would be the greatest danger of all,” he finally said.

Margaret nodded, though she could not understand a world in which it was a bad thing to care for one’s spouse. All she knew was that this conversation would not go anywhere. Not tonight.

“Thank you for helping me,” she uttered stiffly. “But the events of the past few days have left me exhausted.”

She struggled to find any trace of the familiarity they had once had with one another. So she made her way down the path to the mansion, all while feeling his eyes on her.

Quietly, she turned the corner and climbed up the stairs to her rooms. Halfway there, she encountered a maid and requested that she draw her a bath. There was nothing she could do tonight but prepare for the next day.

Her wedding day.

The maid returned with warm water and filled the tub. She helped Margaret out of her dress, laid out a nightgown, and disappeared from the room. Margaret took a deep breath and slipped beneath the water. Her red hair fanned out in the water around her.

How can I marry him?

Yes, he had saved her from a fate that might have been the same as her mother’s. But how could she live with a man who did not want her to be near him?

She envied Theresa’s marriage to a man who adored her. If she were being honest, she had hoped that she might change something about the mysterious Duke who had intrigued her from the start.

But he had always been clear with her—he would not marry her.

What had changed in him? Was it a change she could trust?