Page 32 of A Virgin for the Duke of Depravity (Ton’s Beasts #2)

It was her duty as his wife to give him an heir.

Leo had never seen a woman as beautiful as Margaret was in that dress. It hugged her figure, and the deep green shade brought out the natural flush in her cheeks. Her lips looked full and soft, and he could scarcely wait to kiss them at the end of the ceremony.

I cannot kiss her. She cannot think that this will change anything between us.

Margaret needed protection—from him just as much as anything else in London. Even without her grandfather in the picture, she would still need him to keep her safe. He thought of all the trouble she would cause with the girls.

The girls sat primly in their chairs, wide grins on their faces. He was happy to see them happy, for a change. He never thought that they would care who he wed, or if he even would. Now, they seemed thrilled that he was giving them an aunt who would love them.

It would certainly make his life easier, having Margaret around to help watch over them. Joan could only do so much in her old age.

Margaret finished her walk down the aisle with Theresa, who stood to her left and waited for the ceremony to begin. Leo took his bride’s hands in his own.

He could not flaunt convention entirely. He needed to make it appear as though they would have a real marriage, even if he knew better.

Father Cleary gave a short speech about the power of love, but Leo could not take his eyes off Margaret. By the time they were exchanging their vows, he was ready to leave. He could not bear being this close to Margaret while holding her at arm’s length.

“I now pronounce you man and wife,” Father Cleary said with a smile.

He did not follow it up with an order to kiss the bride, and Leo was grateful for it. He leaned toward Margaret and whispered in her ear, “You are officially mine now.”

Margaret must have been in a daze, lost in her thoughts about what her wedding night would hold, because the ceremony ended too soon. She found herself walking back down the path to the mansion on Leo’s arm sooner than she had expected.

It seemed that she had missed the most important part of the ceremony.

Or it had been skipped.

At every wedding she had attended, the groom would kiss his bride at the end of the ceremony. It did not have to be the passionate kisses they had shared already—that would not have been appropriate for the girls to see.

But surely, there had to be some kind of kiss?

Margaret tried not to overthink the situation, but she felt that her new husband had purposefully avoided kissing her. It was the one part of the ceremony she had been looking forward to.

Perhaps he is just letting the anticipation build up for our wedding night.

But the thought rang hollow in her mind, and she could not shake the cloud that hung over her.

“It has been a busy day,” she said when they had all made their way inside and sat down to taste the pastries the cook had made for the day. It was the recipe that Theresa had gotten from her own cook for the strawberry pastry they had shared at Blackwell Manor.

“That it has,” Leo agreed without looking at her.

He did not partake in the dessert, though the girls were more than eager to eat his portion.

“If it is all right with you, I believe I will retire to my chambers,” she said.

She hoped he would look at her, that he would see the suggestion in her eyes if he could not hear it in her tone.

He nodded. “Do as you like, dear wife.”

He had clearly dismissed her without so much as a second thought. There was nothing to be done about it now except to retire to her rooms, to seclude herself from her friends and her new husband.

As Margaret reached her rooms, she summoned the maid to help her undo the laces of her gown. If she was going to wait for Leo to come to her, then she was at least going to breathe easily while doing it.

With the dress cast aside, she slipped into her most revealing nightgown, the one with the low neckline and thin fabric that left nothing to the imagination. It was what she would want him to see her in the first time he took her and claimed her as his own.

She sat on the stool in front of the mirror and undid her braids. The red tresses fell in tame waves around her face.

Running her fingers through her hair, she tried to imagine what it would feel like if Leo did the same. She sat there as long as she could, wondering what Leo would see when he looked at her tonight.

Surely, he should have come by now.

Not knowing what could cause the delay when he had been so eager to pleasure her the last time they were together, she rose from her seat and moved to the bed. She turned down the covers and climbed in.

Maybe it would not be such a bad thing for him to find her in bed when he arrived.

She tossed and turned, trying to find a position that would not only be comfortable for her but would also appear attractive to her new husband. But eventually, she tired of holding the pose and collapsed onto the soft mattress.

Margaret waited as the sun went down, the light streaming through the small window in her chambers casting the room in oranges and purples. The golden light of the afternoon was long gone, and night was falling.

She got up and started to pace her chambers. What on earth was taking him so long?

She sat down again and started to pray, but she had no idea what to ask of the Lord. She had been quick to say that he worked in mysterious ways, but now she was not sure what was to be gained from a husband who did not want her.

Could the Lord fix this situation?

Unable to bear it any longer, she threw herself into the bed. The hour was growing late, which was confirmed when she heard the girls run past her door on their way to their room, Joan yelling after them.

Perhaps he had been waiting for them to go to bed.

Margaret waited a little while longer before she closed her eyes and decided to do the one thing she had been putting off. She let herself feel the sadness and disappointment of the day—the way Leo had not kissed her, the way he had not come to her room.

She was too heartbroken to think about being pleasant anymore. Even if her husband showed up in her chambers now, she did not know if she would have him. It would serve him right if she rejected him after all of this.

She leaned back against the feather pillows and tried to rest. If Leo came for her in the middle of the night, she would hear him and wake up.

Part of her already knew that he would not come to her room.

Not now.

Not tonight.

Maybe not ever.

She let herself fall asleep and realized in the morning with a start that she had slept through the night. Nobody had come to visit her in her chambers until the maid knocked to see about helping her get ready for the day.

The maid filled her basin with water, and then Margaret sent her away. She splashed the cool water on her inflamed face, chastising herself for naively believing that Leo would be different.

“What did you expect, you fool?” she said to herself in the mirror, her face dripping clean water on the table beneath. “He told you from the beginning that he did not want you as a wife.”

She hardened her expression, determined that she would not cry over him. Margaret refused to let him see that she was hurt by his absence. She did not know what to say or do, so she would have to figure it out.

And fast.

Because she now lived at Devishire Mansion and had no other place to go. Her friends were gone, departed for their own estate. It was just her and Leo here at the mansion, along with the girls. They would run into each other eventually, and she would be prepared when they did.

She would show him that she could be the duchess he thought he was marrying.

She would make herself as irresistible to her new husband as she possibly could.

Leo emerged from his chambers later than usual, despite not having slept the night before. He did not know what to expect from his new wife.

She had retreated to her chambers before they could even celebrate their union. She did not want him, the same way he said he did not want her.

How could I blame her for acting the way I wanted her to?

The worst thing Leo could imagine was caring for someone, and the little nun was the last person he should get close to. She was everything pure. She was everything that he was decidedly not.

He ran one of the most successful gentlemen’s clubs in London. He was the King of Olympus. He was the Duke of Devishire, one of the Beasts that returned from war a little worse for wear.

Leo was always cold and aloof, and all was as it should have been.

Nothing was going to change just because he followed the Queen’s edict. He had saved a woman from certain death and a life of misery with a man who cared not a whit about her.

He put on his usual dark attire, no different from how he would get ready any other day. With his stomach rumbling, he resolved to brave the breakfast room to see what the servants had left.

After running a hand through his hair and a quick glance in the mirror, Leo decided that he was ready to see who he might find at the table. Part of him wanted to find Margaret there, waiting for him.

In his mind, he could see her in the emerald-green gown with Theresa’s jewelry. He knew it was foolish to think of her that way, the way she had been on their wedding day. The day was meaningless, but he found her ravishing.

How much would he have enjoyed undoing the laces on that stunning gown?

Taking a deep breath, he rounded the corner and stepped into the breakfast room.

But the room was empty.

His eyes scanned every corner, before his heart sank. His enthusiasm for breakfast was forgotten as he realized he would have to eat alone.

Breakfast remained on the table, so he grabbed a biscuit and took a bite. He hurled the rest of it against the wall for no reason other than the fact that it felt good to take out his frustration on it.

Margaret lived here now. How long was he going to wait before he ran into her?

“Why did you throw that biscuit?”