Page 31 of A Virgin for the Ton’s Wolf (Ton’s Wolves #4)

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

I t had been a week since he married Scarlett. A full seven days since he stood at the altar and claimed her for his own. His wife. His Duchess. His little cat—no. He could not let himself think of her that way again.

Since then, Hudson lived as if he was on the precipice, teetering over the maws of damnation itself.

He heard the butler clear his throat and forcibly dragged his gaze from the window—the one which afforded him an unobstructed view of the gardens, where Scarlett was currently playing with her puppy, her boisterous laughter like a siren call that lured him ever closer.

“I have come to give you my report, Your Grace.”

Ah, yes. That report. The one highlight of his day.

He waved his hand at the butler, motioning for him to start, and sat down at his desk with his brow furrowed in deep concentration.

“This morning, Her Grace rose early and saw to breakfast in the kitchens,” his faithful servant reported.

His eyebrow arched. “I thought it had been made clear to her that she need not bother with such trivialities.”

The kitchens were hot and uncomfortable. A slice of hell in the manor. And as such, it made devils of those who stayed there.

They also liked to talk. Incessantly.

“Her Grace has been informed thus, but she insists on it.”

“Fine. But make sure that she is afforded every comfort on those visits.”

It was not fine, but he was more than aware that dissuading Scarlett from something she had set her mind to was an exercise in futility.

“After the kitchens, she went out to the stables?—”

The stables? What business had she there?

“She asked for a horse that she may ride on occasion.”

Damn, he had forgotten about that . Colin had mentioned that Scarlett was an accomplished rider, and he had not even thought to provide her with a suitable horse. She must think him the worst of husbands now. He was sure of it.

“After breakfast with Your Grace, she saw to the invitations and correspondence. There were quite many .”

“I am certain there were,” Hudson remarked dryly.

Scarlett was now a duchess. That meant every woman who thought herself a lady of consequence would endeavor to ingratiate herself with her—even if they had gossiped about her on more than one occasion.

“Send me a list of those sycophants,” he sneered.

He would like to see them try to take advantage of his wife .

“Her Grace has already dealt with the, erm, sycophants , Your Grace.”

Hudson smiled proudly at that. Smart girl .

“Except for this.”

He frowned when the butler handed him an envelope. It appeared to be a formal invitation.

“Her Grace has expressed a desire to attend the said event,” the butler continued. “And she wanted to know if you would accompany her.”

Hudson opened the envelope and sucked in a harsh breath when he recognized the invitation to the opera. Scarlett never cared much for the opera.

Damn it, she saw them, and this was her subtle way of informing him of what she knew .

Or what she thought she knew.

“Of course, the Duchess cannot go without me escorting her,” he told the butler. “Tell her that I shall accompany her.”

“As you wish, Your Grace.”

The butler started to bow when Hudson frowned. “The invitation—who sent it?”

“The Earl of Southford,” the butler replied, his voice as smooth as glass.

Hudson’s frown deepened. “The Duchess’s brother?”

“One and the same.”

Perhaps he should have a talk with his brother-in-law soon.

Hudson nodded. “Is that all?”

“That is all, Your Grace.”

“Very well then. You are dismissed.”

The butler left the study in quiet, measured steps. When he closed the door, it barely made a click as the mechanism slid into place.

But outside, the afternoon sunshine spilled into the gardens, turning her vivid red hair into a glorious cloud of fire. Her laughter rang out as she cheered Snowdrop on, the sound sending tendrils of warmth into the cold stones of the manor and into even Hudson’s colder heart.

Such a sound had never been heard in Wolverton Estate before.

Hudson clenched his hands into fists at his sides as he looked at her, longing and desire tugging at him until he feared they would tear him apart. Maybe then he might even deserve it after everything he did.

But he would make sure to protect her. His wife. His Duchess.

His Scarlett.

If men had their study, then the parlor was the domain of women—or at least, Scarlett made it her domain in Wolverton Estate.

It was where she mostly took her tea or set about working on the mundane affairs that kept such a vast estate running. It was also mostly where she consulted with the servants, like Cook for the menu, and the butler for… a great many things.

“You have spoken to the Duke, then?” she inquired, sipping her tea delicately. “What did he say?”

She had not seen much of Hudson since their wedding and even less after Diana left for Oakview. Were sons so attached to their mothers as to withdraw to such a degree? Scarlett would not believe it of this particular son.

“His Grace received the invitation to the opera,” the butler confirmed with a slight smile. “He also bade me relay to Your Grace that he shall attend it with you.”

“He bade you?” she muttered. “When he could have told me himself?”

The butler’s smile widened, but he refrained from saying anything more.

“Very well.” She wrinkled her nose. “If that is all?—”

“Well, there is another matter, Your Grace…”

She looked up from her tea. “Yes?”

Before the butler could open his mouth, a familiar figure swept into the parlor, auburn hair windswept as if he had been riding on horseback across the moors. He grinned widely at Scarlett, who returned his enthusiasm with a look of mild vexation.

“Sister!” Alexander greeted her with an exuberance that failed to reach her. “What a pleasure to see you doing so well!”

“Why? Did you expect me to languish abed so soon after my marriage?” she retorted.

The Earl of Southford looked properly abashed. “You are cross with me.”

Who would not be cross with a brother who tried to marry her off to a man she did not even remotely like ? And not just once, but twice .

It would be quite some time before her relationship with Alexander could be mended. Add to that his extreme lack of awareness when he sent her an invitation to the opera and she was looking at maybe a score or more years before she could properly forgive him.

“You cannot be holding a grudge against me.” He looked truly appalled. “I only had your best interests at heart, Scarlett, and so did Mama. You know that.”

Her mama, she could believe that. But Alexander was an entirely different story.

“You promised me,” she told him, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “After Father died, you promised you would not betroth me to someone not of my own choosing.”

“But we both knew George for quite some time?—”

“Then perhaps you should marry him instead,” a low growl came from the door.

Scarlett craned her neck to find Hudson leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. He regarded Alexander with barely restrained anger, his eyes as dark as a stormy sky.

“Your Grace…” Even her brother was rendered speechless by the sight of him.

Scarlett sighed inwardly. Her husband seemed to truly enjoy frightening people with his mere presence.

“Husband.” She smiled, walking up to him and pressing a gentle kiss to his stubbled cheek. Goodness, but he looked wild enough to tear a dandy like her brother apart. “I thought that you had business matters to attend to.”

He looked surprised for a moment, but his answering smile was cutting. Absolutely wolfish.

Undeniably heart-stopping.

“I was made aware that family was calling,” he told her, his voice warming by a few degrees. When he looked at Alexander again, his eyes turned frosty once more. “Your sister and I meant to stay in the country for an extended period after our wedding.”

Her brother looked visibly chagrined at having to be reminded of that particular fact.

“But seeing as you could not wait for us to return to Society—” Hudson’s grin flashed cold and dangerous. “I could always make an exception for family, especially where it concerns my wife. ”

Scarlett nearly rolled her eyes at that. How many times did he have to hammer in the point that she was married to him ? For a man who refused to come to her bed, he seemed to enjoy the title of husband a little too much.

“W-Well, yes,” Alexander stammered. “Glad to see that, Your Grace. I shall, erm, let Mama know that you will be attending the opera, too.”

Hudson gave a subtle nod like a monarch granting a mere peasant his favor. “Do tell the Dowager Countess that she may visit Wolverton Estate anytime she wishes. Our doors are always open for her.”

Alexander flashed a nervous smile. “She will be pleased to hear that, Your Grace.” He nodded to Scarlett. “Very well, Sister. I shall be off.”

Scarlett looked at him in concern. He had turned from pale to red and then back again so quickly that it was a miracle he had not swooned on the carpet.

Hudson did not even bother to offer to see him off.

“Well, that was not very nice of you.” Scarlett frowned. “Alexander was also visiting.”

“Your brother seems to have conveniently forgotten that you are not just his younger sister anymore,” Hudson bit out. “You are my wife. The Duchess of Wolverton.”

His eyes flashed with a possessiveness that caused desire to pool low in her belly, coiling like a viper poised to attack.

“You are mine , Scarlett,” he snarled at her. “Mine to protect—even from your idiot of a brother.”

“Alexander is not an idiot!” she protested. “Well, not all the time.”

It took her a moment to realize that she had not objected to his possessiveness, merely his opinion of her brother’s intellect.

He’s not quite wrong.

She bit back a smile. Her brother had grown up a little… spoiled. He had known from a very young age that he was going to be the Earl of Southford, and while he did well enough with his studies, his temperament left him easily swayed by others.

Like his best friend, the Marquess of Colton.

“I hope you will forgive Alexander,” she told her brooding husband. She needed to placate him before their familial relations deteriorated further. “He… tends to not think his actions through.”

He gave her a pointed look. “A familial trait, it would seem.”

Scarlett flushed. “You just have to keep pointing that out, do you?”

“It provides me with ample entertainment, to be sure.”

She could swear she saw the hint of a smile as he teased her.

But it was gone before she could enjoy it a little while longer.

Scarlett sighed. “I shall urge him to be on his best behavior the next time he comes over.”

It would be best if he watched his words as well . She groaned inwardly. Lest the Wolf thinks him a complete and utter lackwit.

Fortunately, she managed to convince her extremely critical spouse that her brother was still in possession of his wits. Somewhat.

But then he just had to do something that made him sink even further in Hudson’s eyes—the very next day, Alexander sent word that his carriage needed to be repaired.

And that he would need to ride with them to the opera.