Page 25 of A Virgin for the Duke of Scars (Ton’s Beasts #1)

He was pleased to see that she enjoyed their intimacy as much as he did. He would do anything to make her this happy for the rest of his life. The broken fragments of his life before her, the way Isabella had broken off their engagement—it all seemed to disappear when he was with Theresa.

Aaron helped her down the steps.

“Oh, did you hear that?” She asked before pulling free from his grip and taking off toward the tree line at the edge of the gardens.

Panic lanced through him. He would lose her in the press of people. He would lose her to the darkness of the forest.

Why would she run from him after what they had just done?

More importantly, where would his wife run to that he would not immediately follow?

He followed her at a brisk walk, keeping pace with her to the tree line. Just as he was about to call out to her and grab her to stop her from disappearing into the darkness, she stopped and stooped down.

He grabbed her by the shoulder and jerked her up. “What were you thinking, running during a party like this? You may be married to a duke, but you cannot run from me.”

She smiled up at him as she turned up her hands and opened them.

“I did not run from you,” she said. “I went to rescue this tiny kitten. I heard him mew from the gazebo and could not bear the thought of him being here on his own.”

“You ran from me to rescue a kitten ?” Aaron scoffed, examining the creature.

He was curled up into a ball in her cupped hands, covered in dirt.

“Please tell me we can take him home with us,” she pleaded, her eyes wide with wonder.

“We rode here, remember? You can’t carry him atop your horse.”

“I will leave him with Juliette and Grandmama. He can ride in the carriage with them. Please, say yes.”

Aaron studied his wife. The color was back in her cheeks, and her eyes were bright.

She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen at that moment. A smile spread across his face at his good fortune.

Why deny her something as small as a kitten that could roam the garden and catch the mice in the stables? She asked for so little from him.

Aaron sighed and reached for the handkerchief in his pocket. He handed it to Theresa, who used it to wipe the mud and dirt from the kitten’s face.

“I will name him Ashball,” she announced. “He shall be my new companion when you are not around.”

“As long as you promise me one thing,” Aaron said. “That you will never run off like that again, no matter the reason.”

“You were so close, and we are in the midst of a party. Whatever do you think could have happened to me?” Theresa laughed.

Aaron gave her a somber look. He laid down so few rules for his wife and her comportment, but this is one he would stand by.

“I do not know. There are too many wolves in the ton .”

“Wolves?” Theresa laughed and looked around. “I doubt there are wolves this close to the city. I’d more likely see them in the countryside, near the convent.”

“Do not mistake the city for safety, wife. Most of the wolves here are tame, but you never know who might want to steal a moment with a mesmerizing duchess.”

Theresa blushed at his compliment. How could she still be so sensitive to his praise despite everything they had shared? Piety and modesty must be so deeply ingrained in her.

“The only one I want to spend time with is you,” she said in a soft voice. She lifted her free hand and brushed it along the edge of his mask, this time on the cheek that sustained most of his scars. “I will be careful, even here in the city.”

“That is all I ask of you,” Aaron said.

He lowered her hand from his face, though it was the most tender touch he could have imagined.

How many times had he dreamed that someone would see past his scars to the man beneath?

“Husband, I must confess that this party has exhausted me. Can we please go home?”

They wove their way through the crowd after they handed the kitten to Juliette. Her sister-in-law had been suspicious when they found her, asking where they had stolen off to in the middle of the fireworks show.

“Nowhere special,” Aaron had responded with a shrug and a suggestive look at his wife.

Juliette had smiled when she saw the color rise in Theresa’s cheeks.

Theresa was certain her sister-in-law knew what they had done.

I am a married woman. This is my duty, she reminded herself.

“You must be exhausted,” Juliette told her. “Your first garden party in London. I would be tired, too. Travel safely, then. We will take good care of Ashball until we return.”

Theresa and Aaron then hurried to the stables and waited for the grooms to retrieve their horses and saddle them for the ride home.

Theresa stifled a yawn. Juliette was right—tonight had been a monumental feat for a little nun who had grown up in a convent.

She had curtsied and met so many people. She had spent time with her husband and had not embarrassed him in front of his friends. It was, all in all, a massive success.

“Your Grace, the horses are ready,” a groom said as he emerged from the stables with their horses, clutching the reins in each hand.

“May I steal you for a moment, Your Grace?” A voice suddenly called from behind them.

Theresa did not want to meet any more people tonight. The only thing she wanted to do was mount her horse, ride back to Blackwell Manor, and retreat to her chambers. Better yet, she would spend more time with her husband.

But something about the imploring tone made her turn around.

“Father.”

Lord Wyndham looked down at the ground, a bit sheepish to have been greeted as such by his long-lost daughter. Perhaps she should have addressed him by his title. She had no idea how to proceed in this kind of situation.

He was her father, and yet he was not.

Aaron stiffened at her side. She sensed that he was about to tell him something, but then her father asked, “Are you happy in your new life, Theresa?”

“I am satisfied with my new life,” she replied. She looked at Aaron, only to find him watching her carefully. “Not thanks to you.”

“I am sorry for the way things transpired.” The Marquess hesitated. “Your mother did not know what I had planned for your wedding day. Do not be angry with her. As soon as Hope sent word about her whereabouts, your mother left to be with her.”

Theresa bit her lip. Part of her wanted to be sad for her father. Both his wife and daughter had left him. The other part reminded her that it was because of his actions that he was now alone at Wyndham Park.

She pictured his face on her wedding day as he took her arm and forced her down the aisle. The stony look on his face, the determination in his eyes. She could not muster up any sympathy for him, as sad as that sounded.

“Perhaps some distance would do you all good,” she offered. “For what it is worth, I forgive you, Father. I have met people who truly care for me, thanks to your actions.”

The Marquess gave her a smile that did not reach his eyes. It was bitter, strained, pained.

“Perhaps when this is all over, and your mother and sister come back home, we can spend some time together and get to know each other as a family.”

“I would like that,” Theresa said.

At that moment, Midnight whinnied, as if reminding her that she and Aaron were supposed to be leaving for home. A home that she would not have found, were it not for the role her father had played.

“We must take our leave, Father,” she said, accepting the reins of her horse from Aaron. “I am sure you will understand.”

Aaron helped her up onto her horse.

The Marquess looked shocked that her husband would permit her to ride alongside him. She remembered that he had insisted on the carriage the day of their wedding. He did not know the first thing about her.

She and Aaron took off at a leisurely canter. They would not pick up speed until they were on the main road back to Blackwell Manor.

They had been riding in silence for some time when Aaron finally spoke up.

“Did you mean what you told your father? About the people who care for you?”

Theresa considered for a moment, but it was not a hard question to answer. “Yes. Because of him, I met Margaret and Sister Edith, who were like family to me. I don’t know where I would be if I were raised here in the city.”

“And me?” Aaron asked.

She thought she heard disappointment in his tone.

“I do not know you well enough, husband.”

“You knew me well enough to moan my name in someone else’s garden.”

He was teasing her, and she knew it. There was no question about the lightness in his voice now. She blushed at the memory of climaxing on his tongue.

“That was different,” she huffed.

“So you have not changed your mind about my… nightly visit?” His voice was still light, but she could feel his gaze boring into her.

She twisted in the saddle to meet his stare. “Will you kiss me without your mask on?”

“No.”

“Then no,” she answered. “It is a rule I will abide by.”

They rode in silence until they reached the main thoroughfare and then urged their horses faster. The speed was not conducive to their conversation.

Theresa took the opportunity to mull over her thoughts and the evening they had spent together.

Too soon, the ride was over, and they arrived at the manor. She slid down from her horse in one smooth motion and passed the reins to the stable hand.

“I suppose this is where I bid you goodnight if you are to stick to your rules, dear husband.”

“Goodnight, Theresa,” Aaron said, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand.

She wished he would kiss her goodnight, but she supposed she had had more than her fair share of kissing that evening.

She turned around and headed upstairs to her bedroom, a lonely chamber in a manor that was too big for her taste. She felt alone here in a way that she never had before, and she found herself wishing that her husband would ditch his strict rules.

What would it take to convince him that she could handle whatever it was he was hiding behind his mask?