Page 112 of An Unwanted Spinster for the Duke

“Do you see where we are, Duchess? I dare say I already have,” he said in that patronizing, calm tone. “When your husband finds out that his lovely wife is missing and left without a trace, do you know what he will do? He will panic, Duchess. Men who panic become careless. I have been waiting for this foryears. He didn’t have anything to lose before, but now, there’s you.”

A weakness.

Marianne vowed that she’d do her best to be less of a weakness to Dominic. Her heart could not accept it coming from his mouth, but seeing Linpool use her to get to her husband’s wealth made her feel awful.

“You’ll never get what you want at Oakmere,” she murmured.

“Oh, do you think so? I think you’re wrong, but even if you were right,” Linpool interjected mildly, “I can find other uses for you. After all, I have the best pawn right in my hands. A beautifulduchess. How many men could honestly say they had their cards right like I have?”

Chess. Cards. The man was a gambler, and she would be part of his next attempt at winning.

A wave of nausea assaulted her. This man was getting worse and worse before her eyes.

Linpool still looked relaxed, but she felt a slight change in him. He pulled out a silver flask and gulped down whatever was in it. The smell of alcohol wafted toward her.

It was never good when your captor decided to get drunk when they were frightening enough while sober.

Then, he leaned toward her.“Forgive me, Duchess. I am going to make sure you won’t give me any trouble for the rest of the trip.”

Marianne tensed up. Had she pushed him over the edge?

“What are you?—?”

She didn’t get to finish her question. Linpool’s hand was quick. It went into his coat pocket and pulled out a white cloth.

“You wouldn’t dare! Linpool!”

Her hands flew to the door handle, struggling to open it. She’d rather get bruised again from a fall than have him do what he was planning.

But it was too late. He grabbed her wrist and shoved the cloth into her mouth. The scent was strong, sharp, and sweet.

Marianne did not plan to give in without a fight. She thrashed wildly as she tried to claw and kick at Linpool, and she managed to slap his face. One slap. She wished she could enjoy it better.

The cloth held firm, and she felt its effects quickly.

Weakening limbs.

Swimming head.

Everything was spinning.

The shadows felt longer, as if they were closing in on her.

For a moment, Dominic’s face flashed through her mind. His arms reached out to her, comforting her. Promises of protection were whispered in her ears.

Dominic.

Then, everything went black.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Dominic began his stay at the gentlemen’s club with the comforting smells of leather and brandy. He lunged out of it to get away from the stench of smoke, spilled brandy, and sweat.

There was nothing peaceful about him. His knuckles were bruised, and rage clouded his mind. Yes, alcohol might have contributed to his addled state, but anger was at the top of his list.

His ears hurt from the remnants of the chaos and noise from the brawl.

The shouts. The broken glass. The sound of fists against muscle and bone.