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Page 29 of A Virgin for the Ton’s Wolf (Ton’s Wolves #4)

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

H er heart thudded in her chest so loudly that she feared the entire chapel and all the guests could hear it.

You may kiss the bride.

She would be lying if she said that she had never thought this moment would come. She had been dreaming of it ever since she had been a girl and her mother had brought her to her cousin’s wedding.

It was just a kiss, she might tell herself. She and Hudson had done so much more that the minister would have been tempted to call the wrath of God upon them if he had known.

But Hudson could never be trusted with a mere kiss. He had lips made for sin and seduction. With him, a simple kiss would turn into a raging inferno. Unstoppable. Soul-scorching.

If only he had not been such a wonderfully obstinate man and insisted on a kind of union that would not benefit either of them.

His hand slid around her waist. Strong. Stable. Possessive.

Her toes curled in response. In anticipation. Her whole body swayed towards him, easily falling under his spell.

His face remained impassive, even as he loomed ever closer to her.

Scarlett sighed inwardly.

Really, truly vex—oh.

The train of thoughts speeding down the tracks of her busy, busy mind came to a screeching halt when she felt his lips on hers. Soft. Insistent. Possessive. With just the slightest hint of a heady liquor she would readily want to blame for her sudden stupefaction.

For a man who insisted they stay away from each other, he was doing the complete opposite.

Scarlett felt herself smiling despite it all. If she had to live on a marriage of sporadic kisses, then by all that was holy, she was going to seize every moment of it!

She reached up, kissing him back softly, melting into his arms when he growled.

Thunderous applause rang out, and then it was all over.

Too soon, too soon .

But there was nothing she could do. Hudson’s eyes had that shuttered look in them once more, as if he was carefully sealing away all the passion he had just poured into their kiss.

Just how did he do that? How did he make her weak in the knees one moment and then cold the next?

Was this how the rest of her life was going to be?

The incandescent joy she felt earlier cooled like a sudden, unexpected frost. If this was how Hudson wanted to play, then she did not mind indulging him.

Her dear husband was going to find out that two can play this game of his.

She was going to make sure of it.

It was supposed to be a simple kiss. A chaste peck on the lips, more for their eager audience than for either of them.

Instead, he felt wildfire blooming in his veins. Desire scorching a path through his nerves, leading to arousal, raging and inevitable. When thunderous applause finally awakened him to what he had been doing, it was too late—he had lit a fire between both of them that would not be so easily doused.

He should have known that there were no such words as mere or simple when it came to Scarlett. All roads led to the overwhelming need to take her to his bed, to fulfill his obligations to her as her husband. To ensure both her satisfaction and his.

In that regard, he would have to disappoint her, too. Just as he had been a disappointment to her in every other aspect, besides that which he now withheld from her.

The only thing I can do right for her, and it pushes us ever closer to a path of no return .

He might as well have tied a boulder to his neck and hurled himself and the rock into the Thames. He would die from such a stunt, most probably, but he had already sentenced his poor, gloriously beautiful wife to the life of a widow. Perhaps he should just make it a reality…

“So… this is how I find the Duke of Wolves at his wedding. Drunk on his wine.”

Hudson looked up from the said wine at the sound of sensual laughter and met a pair of green eyes holding even more laughter.

Fantastic. Now, everyone seems to find his predicament amusing.

“I must admit that I was a bit confused when you sent me away a month or so ago,” the lady continued, her voice a sultry cadence that had wrapped many men around her little finger. “But to find Lady Scarlett in Wolverton Estate? It was a pleasant surprise, I should say. And one that is quite understandable.”

“Josephine.” His past lover’s name came out harsher than the biting winds of a snowstorm. “I never thought I would find a woman so gracious in conceding defeat.”

Josephine raised a dark eyebrow. “To Lady Scarlett—or should I say, Her Grace? I have enough awareness of my meager capabilities to know that I cannot possibly measure up to such standards.”

Just what the hell does she mean by that?

Hudson frowned darkly. “It would be best if you choose your next words carefully.”

The opera singer simply rolled her eyes at him. “Calm your horses down, Your Grace. I meant no disrespect towards your lady wife. In fact, I only have the utmost respect for her.” Her eyes narrowed as a mischievous smile spread across her face. “It cannot be so easy, being your Duchess.”

Now, she was insulting him? He must have given the woman far too many concessions in the past for her to be this bold.

“Barely a day into your marriage and you are snapping the reins,” she continued, laughter threading through every word. “Perhaps I should bid Her Grace good luck. Not that she would need it. To marry the Wolf himself…” she trailed off, and her smile widened. “She is a far stronger woman than most of us.”

She regarded him with a raised eyebrow as if to inform him that he was Scarlett’s problem now.

Really, he had been far too lenient with this woman for her to be so free with her words.

“Just… stay away from her,” he warned her.

This day was for Scarlett, after all. He did not want it ruined just because she crossed paths with a woman with whom he had been… intimate.

“Of course, Your Grace.” She curtsied, the movement graceful, elegant, yet undeniably seductive. “And if I might be so bold?—”

“You already have been.”

She smiled. “Yes, but allow me to say this—she suits you. I could not have imagined a more perfect match for you. In every way.” She dipped her head. “A most joyful day, Your Grace. To you and your bride.”

It was a most disorienting thing, to receive felicitations on one’s wedding from one’s past lover.

Hudson tipped his head back and downed the rest of his drink. He needed to get himself another glass if he intended to make it to the end of the wedding breakfast.

And then, after that, there would be just the two of them.

Alone.

Scarlett watched the dark-haired woman walk away from Hudson with slightly narrowed eyes. There was nothing inappropriate about their interaction, but the bold familiarity with which the lady regarded her new husband made her insides squirm most uncomfortably.

“You know who she is?”

She turned slightly to Phoebe, who was looking at the woman with open curiosity.

Scarlett smiled coldly. Who did not know who she was?

“I am not so uncultured that I would fail to recognize Miss Josephine Lambert,” she replied softly.

“Yes,” Phoebe said. “But do you know who she is to him?”

Of course, Scarlett knew. In fact, the whole of London knew that the most famous opera singer of that age frequently warmed the Duke of Wolverton’s bed. Still, the knowledge did not rid her of her queasiness.

Miss Josephine was beautiful. Hair as dark as a raven’s wing, eyes the color of emeralds, and curves that would tempt even a monk to sin. She had a graceful gait, yet the sway of her hips whispered of seduction. When she smiled, her lips curled in mischief and playfulness and forbidden promise.

Hudson had excellent taste in paramours—and she told Phoebe precisely that.

Her friend paled slightly. “And you are certain you are…?”

“Perfectly fine,” Scarlett replied quickly, adding a smile to reassure her. “He is kind enough not to press me for his husbandly rights. I suppose I should be considerate enough to allow him to seek comfort elsewhere.”

“Considerate?” Phoebe’s voice rose along with her eyebrows. She shook her head. “I could never be as calm as you are. Why, when Ethan absconded to that townhouse of his early in our marriage, I was despondent.”

Scarlett bit back her smile. So despondent her friend was that she managed to pen a wildly popular—and highly scandalous— book that finally brought her wayward husband to heel. Phoebe might be the gentlest of their group, but she was not as helpless as most would perceive her to be.

“If you need help?—”

Scarlett shook her head. “I assure you, I am perfectly fine,” she told her friend firmly. “Let Wolverton see his paramour, if it brings him a measure of peace. I shall enjoy my own pursuits without his interference—as he has promised me.”

Phoebe did not look too convinced, but thankfully, she was tactful enough to stop pressing the issue.

“What are the two of you talking about?” Evelyn asked, her eyes bright with curiosity.

“Oh!” Phoebe looked a little startled but quickly regained her composure. “Nothing much.”

The Duchess of Ashton narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Was that Miss Lambert I saw leaving earlier?”

“I know, right?!” Phoebe pursed her lips in disapproval.

Both women turned towards Scarlett, and she sighed. “Do you expect me to wallow in misery?” she asked with a roll of her eyes.

“Not really,” Evie hedged. “I just thought that you would be…”

“A little less nonchalant about the whole matter,” Phoebe supplied.

Scarlett smiled at her friends, even as the puff pastry she had eaten earlier threatened to make another appearance.

“I know what to expect of this marriage,” she reassured them. “And I do not have unrealistic aspirations for it. The Duke has assured me of my freedom, which is far more than any man would have given me, and for that, I consider us well-matched.”

Scarlett forced the tight smile to stay in place, even as her stomach churned once more. Apparently, beyond her facade, she was not so accepting of the arrangement that Hudson had proposed. It irked her to no end that he was willing to share his bed with a woman outside of marriage but was adamant in his refusal to visit hers. It gnawed at her insides like a seed that took root and now squeezed her heart most abominably.

If that is what he wants, then let him have it!

Later that night, after all their guests had left, after their servants had retired early to allow their new Duke and Duchess the privacy of their first night together, Scarlett locked the door and barricaded her room against her husband.

If only it was that easy to protect her heart from him.