Page 38

Chapter Thirty-One

“ G ood morning,” Dominic murmured, still a little sleepy, but fully awake now with his beautiful wife lying naked beneath the blanket beside him.

They had finally agreed to share a room. It made moments like this easier.

“Good morning,” she replied softly, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “I thought you would have disappeared by now.”

“I’m not running away like a coward again, Marianne,” he promised. “Not this time.”

She raised an eyebrow, skeptical but not surprised. He couldn’t blame her. He hadn’t been exactly forthcoming before. But after their first night together, there was no turning back. It was irreversible.

“Do you regret it?” he asked cautiously.

“No,” she said with a laugh. “Why are you asking now, after we’ve made love several times in three days? A little late, don’t you think?”

“True.” He hesitated. “But you’re unlike anyone I’ve ever known.”

“I hope that’s a compliment.”

“It is, little doe. It is. And you know what? I want you again. Right now.”

Dominic couldn’t help himself. Seeing her, smelling her, feeling her so close stirred his desire again.

“I thought you had your fill last night,” she teased, her smile transforming her pretty face into something breathtaking. Her hazel eyes caught the sunlight and glowed gold.

“I can never get my fill. And I want to see you—all of you—in the daylight.”

His words ignited a fire between them. Their kisses deepened, deliberate and hungry.

Kneeling before each other on the bed, Dominic pulled the blanket away, revealing the body he had worshipped so many times.

He lifted her over his lap, sliding inside her. She was still slick from their shared passion, tight and warm around him.

“Come on top, little doe. I want to see how beautifully my Duchess rides me,” he whispered in her ear.

At first, her movements were hesitant, uncertain. Then, she found her rhythm.

“Yes, just like that. Think of the forest—riding hard,” he urged, groaning as she pulled him in deeper with each thrust.

Her breasts bounced before him, tempting feasts.

Marianne was no prey. She knew what she wanted. Pushing a breast into his face, she dared him. Dominic gladly obliged, teasing her nipple with his tongue. Every time she thrust down, his tongue followed.

“You—” she breathed, barely a word.

He chuckled. Then, he wrapped an arm around her, taking over the rhythm, sucking hard on her nipple the way she liked.

Together, they came—hard, breathless, satisfied.

They collapsed on the bed, spent and sated.

Over the next few days, they could not get enough of each other. Every private corner of their home bore witness to their passion.

The servants smiled secretly, and Dominic caught their mirth—a silent celebration of the happiness he had found.

Finally, they were on their honeymoon. They were truly married now, in every sense of the word, though uncertainties still lingered beneath the surface.

“What does this mean?” Marianne asked one day.

“This?” Dominic smiled, trying for lightness. “We’re married, aren’t we?”

She didn’t look pleased. The sadness behind her laughter and desire struck a chord deep within him.

“I suppose we’re fortunate to have found something like this,” she murmured, staring into the horizon.

“Yes, we are. By the way, do you want to ride later this afternoon?”

Her eyes lit up, and her cheeks flushed pink. He grinned at the sight of her arousal.

“Not that kind of ride, little doe,” he teased, tapping the tip of her nose with his finger.

He swore she’d bite it off one day.

“I know that, silly,” she snapped playfully, a tremulous smile breaking through. “I’d love that. You know how much I love horses.”

“Hunters, the both of us,” he declared.

“No. I can’t imagine killing an animal for sport,” she said indignantly, her pink cheeks flushed with anger, not desire this time.

Dominic wondered if he’d gone too far.

“You don’t have to. We’ll just ride and scan the forest for things that shouldn’t be there. Have you ever thought of protecting your land?”

“Hmm. Sounds interesting,” she admitted.

But then she shut down again—closed off so he couldn’t read her.

“You know… the only time my father ever offered a kind word was when we went hunting,” Dominic revealed suddenly, and realized he craved her approval more than was safe.

“Oh.” She looked surprised, probably thinking men like him had the world at their feet. “I suppose that might be true for the adult Dominic, but not the boy trying to earn his father’s favor.”

“Yes. It was also my escape.” His gaze drifted to the horizon as he fought to push painful memories aside—of his father, his mother.

The thought of her made his hands clench into fists.

“Riding and being with nature—and animals, especially—are the only things that give me peace,” Marianne confessed.

Dominic had suspected there was more to Lord Grisham than ruthless ambition.

Was he cruel in other ways, too?

Marianne was already waiting when Dominic arrived at the stables, her horse saddled, her posture perfect. But her face lit up when she saw him.

They exchanged a few quiet words before separating briefly to tend to their mounts, both immersed in the comforting rhythm of the familiar task. Still, the moment apart tugged at something in Dominic. He missed her already, and they hadn’t even ridden out yet.

Once they were side by side again, they rode in silence through the woods—the kind of silence that didn’t need to be filled.

The wind danced in Marianne’s hair. Sunlight filtered through the trees and kissed her cheeks. Occasionally, she glanced over at him, smiling softly.

The ride was peaceful, grounding. Until they reached a small clearing.

Dominic drew his horse to a stop, his heart suddenly tight in his chest.

“Marianne,” he said, his voice lower than usual, almost hesitant. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

She turned toward him at once, the playful ease in her expression vanishing.

“What is it?” she asked, her brow furrowed. “Is something wrong?”

He hesitated. “Linpool.”

Her eyes narrowed in confusion. “Linpool?” Then, her lips curled into a small, teasing smile. “Really? We’re out in the middle of nature, and you’re thinking of him? Are you still jealous?”

Her tone was light, but he could hear the note of relief beneath it, as if she’d feared something worse.

He didn’t return her smile.

“He’s not what you think,” he said quietly. “He…” He paused, the words sticking like stones in his throat.

For a second, he wasn’t sure he could speak them aloud.

But he forced a breath through his nose and continued, “He was my mother’s lover.”

Marianne’s expression shifted instantly. The humor vanished. Her eyes widened, and she sat straighter in the saddle.

“Yes,” Dominic uttered bitterly. “My mother was unfaithful, and not just with Linpool. There were others. She—” He stopped and looked away, his jaw tightening.

“She died from a venereal disease she contracted. One that worsened rapidly. And it wasn’t the sort of thing anyone wanted to call a physician for.

There was shame. Silence. She died alone . ”

The leaves rustled around them, but otherwise, there was only quiet. Marianne didn’t speak at first. Her eyes were on him, searching his face as if she could touch the hurt there if she only looked hard enough.

Then, her lips parted, and she exhaled slowly. “Dominic… I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged once like it didn’t matter, but his shoulders were stiff with old pain.

“I don’t tell people this,” he said roughly. “I haven’t even said it out loud until now. That is why I had the west wing closed off. It was where my mother stayed. I thought by locking it up, I wouldn’t have to deal with the anger and the shame that comes with her memory.”

Marianne leaned forward, placing a hand gently on his arm. “Thank you. For trusting me with it.”

He nodded, swallowing hard.

A moment passed before she spoke again, her voice thoughtful. “Elizabeth must know. About Linpool’s… activities.”

He met her gaze. “Yes. I don’t know what he wants from her, but if he’s anything like he was… he’ll only leave ruin behind.”

Marianne’s expression turned solemn. Her fingers gripped the reins tighter. “I have to tell her.”

“Marianne—”

“I know,” she interrupted softly. “It won’t be easy. Especially with Father watching her every move. But I have to. She needs to know what he’s capable of.”

Dominic studied her for a long moment. The determination in her voice. The steadiness in her eyes.

God, she is brave.

“We’ll find a way,” he said finally. “Together.”

She smiled faintly, but her gaze remained distant, fixed on the treetops. “Thank you for telling me. I know it must’ve cost you something.”

“I told you,” he murmured, “no more running. Not from you.”

Marianne turned back to him then, and for the first time in that clearing, she leaned over and kissed him—soft and fleeting. But full of something deeper.

Hope.