Page 34 of A Virgin for the Duke of Depravity (Ton’s Beasts #2)

With that out of the way, he thought of all the notes he would need to send to make Margaret feel at home here. Certainly, she would want to make some changes to her rooms. He had no need of the dowry provided by the Queen, and she could use the funds to make changes.

Perhaps he would make a trip to the art gallery and pick out a new painting for her. Maybe he could commission Aaron to paint something that he thought Margaret would like. A Biblical scene, he thought. Something that would befit a woman who came so close to taking her vows.

On his way to Olympus, he would stop by Blackwell Manor and talk to Aaron. He decided he would leave earlier than planned, all the better to see if Theresa and Aaron could convince Margaret to be as happy here as she could be.

“She will never be happy here,” he said quietly to his reflection in the mirror as he straightened the lapels of his jacket. “Not with a Beast for a husband.”

But part of him did not truly believe those words. Margaret had seemed perfectly content with him when he threw open the doors to the ballroom her grandfather had held her in. She had stopped shaking when he wrapped his arms around her.

The feel of her in his arms was one that he could not easily forget. Just as he could not seem to forget the way she felt straddling his hips as he stroked her bud with his thumb. The way she threw her head back and exposed the tender skin of her throat when she came undone for him.

I need to banish that thought for good.

He could not go to Olympus in this state, not with his manhood straining against the fly of his pants. It would be embarrassing to have the entire ton know that he was unsatisfied with his wife.

That their marital bliss had ended so quickly. That their marital bliss had never begun. That he had never laid hands on her last night, even though every fiber of his being had imagined what she would be doing. Her pale skin in the moonlight. Her nightgown tossed on the floor beside her bed.

Of course, he wanted to take her. He had wanted to take her for as long as he had known her. That much, at least, he could not deny.

He poured himself a glass of whiskey and took a long sip. The amber liquid burned down his throat, which only seemed fitting, since every part of him seemed to burn with desire for his wife.

“Enough,” he snapped, slamming the glass back down on the table. Drops of whiskey flew from the glass and spotted his white shirt beneath the dark jacket.

Leo hung his head and ran a hand through his hair.

I need to get it together. I cannot let a woman unravel me.

After he returned from the war a hero, he had spent so long trying to construct a facade that kept everyone at arm’s length. He had seen firsthand what happened when he was close to someone—his brother had made it quite clear what the consequences of that proximity were.

Olympus allowed him to be a part of the ton while still being far enough to maintain his comfort.

Nobody wanted to go against the Duke, and he liked it that way.

He wanted them to think he was a beast, but Margaret threatened to undo everything he had carefully worked to build. She did not seem to think him beastly in the slightest, which only frightened him.

Leo stood up, the thought of his brother and everything he had lost over the years dampening his lust. He was about to take his leave for the evening when he heard Annie yelling.

A moment later, she pounded on his door.

“Uncle!”

He threw open the door at once. She would never come to him, especially not this frantically, unless something was wrong. Immediately, he thought of Joan.

Could she have slipped chasing after the girls, her back refusing to allow her to get up?

Seeing the stricken look on Annie’s face, he knew right away that it was not Joan. His heart thundered in his chest, leaping ahead of him as dread coiled in his gut. The only person who would elicit a reaction like this from the little girl was the one woman she adored.

“What is it?”

He kneeled down in front of Annie and grabbed her shoulders. He tried not to grip them too tight, tried not to shake her to make the words come out faster.

“I heard Margaret screaming for help. You must hurry!”

Annie tried to turn around, but he held her too tightly for her to move. Realizing that he was needed made him spring into action. He released the little girl and brushed past her, already on his way to his wife. Before he realized that he did not know where she was.

“Where was she when you heard her yell?”

He tried not to shout at Annie, but he was petrified that Margaret might be badly hurt. How could he have offered her his protection and then allowed her to get hurt on her first day as his wife?

“The library,” Annie managed to get out. “Hurry!”

He took off running down the stairs, vaguely aware of the little feet that followed behind him.

Margaret grabbed another book from the shelf and held it out to Kitty, who peered at the title and the picture on the front cover.

“I read this one when I was a girl,” Margaret told her with a wistful smile.

She could still recall being a girl on her father’s knee as he turned the pages and told her the story. It was of a girl in a secret garden where she encountered fairies. The magic and allure of it would appeal to the girls, that much she knew.

Margaret knew that she would make new memories with the girls and get to relive the best parts of her childhood. Before joining the convent, her mother and father had given her a wonderful childhood.

Even if she never had children of her own, she could create that same magic for the girls.

“What is it about?” Kitty asked, but Margaret could tell that her heart was not in it from the way her eyes darted to the door.

“We can look at the books later,” Margaret said, placing the book back on the shelf. “Perhaps you and Annie would like to rest for a while after all that running around in the orangery.”

Looking around, she realized that Annie was missing. The girl had been here just a moment ago when she was searching for the book. She was sure of it.

“Where did Annie go?”

“Oh,” Kitty stammered. “She went—”

But she never got to finish because the library door flew open and Leo barreled into the room.

His hair was disheveled, and his clothes were not as straight and neat as they usually were. He was panting, as if he had sprinted across the entire estate to get to the library.

Margaret could not figure out why he would barge into the library this way. She and Kitty were only looking at the books. Surely, that was allowed?

“Margaret,” he panted. He took a deep breath and looked around the library. “Annie came to get me. She said that you yelled for help.”

“Everything is fine,” Margaret assured him calmly. “It was not me she heard, if she heard yelling. If she heard a scream, we should investigate to ensure the servants are all right.”

“No, she was clear that the yelling came from the library.”

“The girls and I were the only ones in the library. Well, Kitty and I were here anyway. Annie was…”

Margaret realized what had happened and started to laugh. The girls were up to their usual antics again, but this time, she and Leo were the victims of their mischief. She doubled over with laughter, clutching her sides.

How astute the girls were. They not only realized that she and Leo were avoiding each other, but they also knew exactly how to bring them together.

“Annie was busy playing her games,” Margaret finally said, straightening and taking a deep breath. “I dare say that she and Kitty knew exactly what they were doing.”

“What do you mean?” Leo asked, still looking around the library.

His face was pinched, growing more so with every peal of laughter that tore from Margaret’s throat. His eyes were stormy instead of rich and deep, as she usually found them. His breathing was still ragged from exertion.

“I believe you will understand what has happened if you only try to open the library door.” She gestured to him to try the door.

Leo turned toward the door and grabbed the handle before trying to push the door out into the hall. When the door did not budge, he pushed harder. He turned around and looked at Margaret, who simply smiled back at him.

“Girls!” His voice echoed off the walls of the library, but there was no answer from the other side of the door. “Unlock the door this instant, or there will be serious consequences!”

He began to pound on the door with his fists. Margaret watched with mild amusement. But the more insistent he became, the less merriment she felt.

The girls were trying to bring them together, and Leo would stop at nothing to get away from her.

She waited a few moments for him to realize that the door would not magically open. When he continued to jiggle the handle and pound on the wood, she finally decided she could wait no longer.

“Are you really going to break down the door to avoid speaking to me?”

Margaret could not hide the sadness in her voice, and she knew that Leo could hear it.

At the sound of the tremor in her voice, he paused for a moment, and the room fell silent. The tension grew between them, so thick that she could barely breathe.

Leo stared at her, his expression unreadable.

“Annie and Kitty are trying to tell you that they do not like this situation. We must respect what they are trying to say. They have to live with both of us now, no matter how much you might regret marrying me.”

He let out a long breath and leaned against the door for a beat before he stalked closer to her. Margaret had the thought that she should withdraw from him, but she pushed down the urge to pull back. She would not let him know that he had that power over her.

“Is that what you think, wife?”

She was thrilled to hear the endearment in his question, even as he growled at her. For so many years now, she had intended never to marry, to commit her life to the Lord. But now, a whole new world had opened up before her.

She was a duchess.

She was a wife.