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Chapter Thirty-Two

“ W hat are you trying to do, Marianne?” Her father’s cold voice interrupted her thoughts.

“What do you mean, what am I trying to do?” she asked innocently.

If her father expected her to cower now, he would be sorely disappointed. She would find all kinds of ways to protect her sisters.

“Every time Linpool comes close, you and your sister seem to go the other way. Are you doing this on purpose?” he asked, his voice a quiet thunder.

Marianne was familiar with the undercurrents of Lord Grisham’s voice. The anger that he could somehow hide from others and communicate to her and her sisters.

“No, Father. She simply needs to be able to explore her options,” Marianne retorted, becoming a dam just like him.

“Options? Linpool is serious about pursuing your sister.”

“If that was the case, then no evading him would deter him.”

Then, she turned her back on him and strode away. She might be afraid of him, but she was more afraid of her sister being caught in a marriage with a lecher.

It had been three days since Dominic had told her about who Linpool was—his mother’s former lover—and she was still rattled. How could a woman be so callous and unkind, and so willing to debase herself, that she would give up her relationship with her son for her lover—or lovers, in her case?

After weeks of subtle maneuvers and whispered warnings, Marianne had managed to keep herself and Elizabeth away from Linpool. She had somehow been careful enough to keep it graceful, but she knew that some people would recognize it for what it was—deliberate.

Yet, even as the sisters found excuses, Linpool found ways to get closer.

He was charming and persistent. Marianne shuddered to think about how she’d believed in him so easily that she was willing to fight her husband over it.

It had seemed like a pretty diversion from the tension between her and Dominic.

The Viscount was everywhere: garden parties, musical nights, and charity luncheons. He’d have a smile that she wouldn’t have called predatory before but now did.

Dominic had taken to following her everywhere, too. She wondered if it was merely to keep Linpool at bay, or if there was something else.

She looked at him. He didn’t smile, but his eyes radiated heat that made her weak in the knees. They arrived together, of course, but there was still a thrilling connection between them, like they were meeting each other over and over again for the first time.

Lady Balfour’s musical night was supposed to be a quiet, intimate event in the countryside. It wasn’t that far from London, though. So, city dwellers weren’t too opposed to visiting and leaving for home afterward, although, as usual, some opted to stay with the hosts for the weekend.

“It looks like a good decision, coming here,” Marianne murmured, looking around at the eligible bachelors present. Some of them were of appropriate age—up to no more than a decade older than Elizabeth.

“It should be,” Dominic responded as he tightened his arm around hers.

Even though Marianne had made it clear that she was not interested in Linpool, her husband could not help but express his possessiveness anyway.

“I-I wish I had known about him earlier,” she said, glancing up at him.

His face was stoic, except for the slight softening of his eyes.

“You could not have known, Marianne.”

“I—Is this fine with you?” she asked.

“It is what it is. It’s my duty to ensure that you and your sister are safe,” he said solemnly as they continued to smile politely at other guests.

Weaving through the crowd had become easier for Marianne. It was no longer simply done to be noticed. It was now part of a mission—to keep her sisters safe and their reputations spotless.

“There you are, lovebirds!” Olivia startled them into bigger grins when she approached them like a storm. Her arms were already wide open for a hug.

“Lady Darfield,” Marianne greeted.

“Your Grace. Is it only me, or do you look even more beautiful than the last time I saw you? It seems you are looking better and better,” Olivia observed.

“Oh. Do not flatter me, dear,” Marianne said, with a gentle wave of her hand.

“No. Not flattery. Simon and I may be loud and possibly uncivilized in the eyes of the ton, but we do not flatter. We always speak the truth, even if it gets us in trouble. There certainly is something. A new rouge?”

“She is not wearing rouge,” Dominic said, looking a little… proud?

“Your lovely bride indeed looks positively glowing, my man, but what about you? Still stiff as ever!” Simon commented, with a raised eyebrow. “You look like you must comport yourself that way, or else you’ll commit murder!”

“Mmph,” Dominic grunted. “Give it time.”

The glance he cast at Marianne was far from murderous. However, it did speak of a different kind of violence, the kind that would have her clothes shredded on the floor. In delicious tatters.

“Darling, please don’t cause a scene here,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper but loud enough for their friends to hear.

She pressed her shoulder against his side, and the tiny tremor there was enough for her to know that he wanted her. Wanted her at that very moment .

“No, my… Duchess,” he replied.

The pause after “my” suggested that he wanted to say something else, like “little doe.”

“I never cause scenes. Someone will have to begin them. Then, I will gladly end it for them.”

The passion she was feeling from him seemed to have transformed into something else—like anger. His shoulders had stiffened.

Marianne could understand, though. Despite fleeting glimpses of Linpool over the weeks they had been in London, and even tonight, she and Dominic had passed the evenings without incident.

“Then perhaps you and the Duchess should retire earlier so that we won’t be subjected to such a sight,” Simon jested, nodding subtly toward Linpool, who was only a few feet away.

The man, forty or so years old, seemed to know just how to act like a smitten young lad around Elizabeth. At the moment, though, he seemed to have forgotten his mission: he was deep in conversation with Lady Balfour’s niece.

Marianne could not even blame the girl for being charmed. She was charmed once, too.

Olivia wrinkled her nose when she saw what her friend was looking at.“I don’t know how people could not see how repulsive he can be,” she muttered.

“My love, I don’t know how people could not see how repulsive he is,” Simon countered.

“If, um, the two of you must leave, you can rely on us to watch over your sister.”

As if on cue, Elizabeth walked toward them. She looked flustered, as if she had been running instead of doing little tippy-toe hide and seek with Linpool.

“I agree,” she uttered, her eyes falling to Dominic’s hand on Marianne’s waist.

The glance made Marianne more aware of the heat of her husband’s large hand. She was aware that they were pushing the boundaries of propriety in public gatherings. It was not just him either. Marianne often found herself leaning toward him or pressing a hand to his chest.

So, this is desire.

After she had given her body to her husband, thoughts of him plagued her. He was always there. In her mind. Right next to her. Even now, she wanted him, and she wondered just how much their friends were seeing.

She should have been embarrassed, but the flush was superficial, and her restraint crumbled.

“Go,” Elizabeth whispered.

This time, Marianne had the grace to blush—to truly blush. Her younger sister must have noticed how she watched Dominic like he was a meal she was eager to devour.

“Er—”

“I’ll be fine. Olivia’s already promised to escort me home. She alsopromised to beat Linpool senseless with her fan.”

Marianne could not help but smile at the thought.

Petite Olivia didn’t look like she could hurt a fly, but Marianne believed every word her friend said. Still, the thought of leaving her sister behind only because she could not look at her husband without trembling did not sound proper. It did not sound responsible, at all!

“Elizabeth—” she protested weakly.

“I am serious,” Olivia added, edging closer to Elizabeth.

She gave her friend a knowing smirk. The glint in her eyes was positively naughty, which should not surprise her, given how she and Simon talked.

“We don’t want to hear you two panting for each other.

Leave the party. One, how could they be scandalized if a newlywed couple wanted some alone time?

Two, you two have other important things to do.

Dukes and their Duchesses should grace events like these with brief appearances. ”

While Marianne gaped at her friend and her sister, Dominic needed no more encouragement. The hand on her waist began leading her toward the front doors. She tried to keep up with his long strides, and somehow made it, panting as Olivia said they were.

The evening air was cool and sweet—a true blessing for her heated skin. The scent of roses created a pervasive air of romance.

Marianne clung closer to her husband, but she felt something in him shift.

What is it?

Dominic had been hoping to get his wife alone the whole time they were at Lady Balfour’s musical night. He wanted her badly, as if his life depended on it. Somehow, Linpool was to thank for his self-control. At least, the anger balanced his overwhelming lust.

Was it normal?

He was a hunter. He thought he would be satisfied after he conquered and took her virtue. Then, he would grow bored. But no. Somehow, she had enthralled him.

Just when he thought the evening was heading for some relief, he saw a shadow shift behind the trees. It was brief enough for someone to believe it was their imagination. However, it was also distinctive.

Someone was out there, watching them.

Dominic narrowed his eyes. He could see a tall and broad-shouldered figure, and it was unnervingly still. Was he the prey right now, and his hunter was patiently stalking him?

The figure merged with the darkness, but his heart still pounded.