Page 42 of An Unwanted Spinster for the Duke

“Then I will make sure to thank her when I see her,” Marianne said.

A lady’s maid, just for her.

Her father had made her share a maid with Elizabeth, as he disliked spending more money than needed on his daughters.

Here, it would be different. She was, after all, the Duchess of Oakmere.

Still, she didn’t know whether she was finally free… or trapped in a different cage.

Chapter Eighteen

“One moment,” Marianne said, her heart leaping to her throat.

The moment she’d heard the knock on the door, she knew that it was him—the Duke. Her husband. It was, after all, their wedding night. With clammy palms, she turned the knob to let him in.

Candlelight highlighted his sharp features as he entered. He was breathtakingly handsome, yet something troubled him. His eyes raked over her from head to toe, and she wondered what indistinguishable emotion they hid.

Apprehension? Repressed anger?

She tried not to shrink under his intense gaze, the one that traveled from the top of her head to her bare toes. Was he trying to see if his “purchase” was a wise one? She could already imagine her father’s future demands.

Shame washed over her, but she reminded herself that she was doing this for her sisters and their brother.

“I came to see if my new wife intends to fulfill any of her marital duties. Or if she’s here in Oakmere Hall to sulk in satin and silk.”

“What duties would those be? Smiling at dinner? Pretending you didn’t drag me here in a whirlwind?” Marianne asked.

The Duke stepped closer, his breath fanning her cheeks. She could not help but notice the twitch in his jaw.

“Among other things,” he replied dryly.

Marianne burned with too many sparks to name. Desire warred with fury. Yes, she was drawn to him, insufferable as he was. She knew what it felt like to kiss those soft, unyielding lips. But trust him? Never. He was a hunter, and she suspected he’d married her just to prove a point.

Still, escape was no longer possible. Her father would make her siblings’ lives unbearable—more than they already were. She knew he meant every word of his threats. And if she didn’t submit to the Duke in every way he desired, she risked being sent back to that house.

A non-consummated marriage could be annulled. Her father would greet her with even sharper teeth, and her sisters would pay the price dearly.

She could not risk that.

So, she took a long, deep breath and walked toward the bed.

“What are you doing?” the Duke asked, his voice low.

“What does it appear to you, Your Grace? I’m getting ready for our wedding night. My marital duty, as you said,” she said evenly, even as her heart thundered in her chest.

She sat on the edge of the bed, hoping that he would not see her legs shaking.

She thought that he would jump at the chance, maul her with kisses. Yet, he did not. Instead, he remained still, narrowing his eyes at her. Only after a moment did he move closer.

But then he stopped. And paced. Left to right. Right to left. His eyes were on her the whole time, waiting for the right moment.

Then, he stopped again. He bent his torso a little so that his face was close to hers.

“I told you, I do not like easy prey,” he grunted.

“I amnotyour prey,” Marianne retorted, her hands clenched into fists on either side of her thighs.

“Not yet,” he murmured, his eyes widening. “You will be, and you will beg for it.”