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Chapter Thirty-Four

I t was the longest day of Dominic’s life. Even as he tried to focus on his ledgers, he couldn’t. Even going out for a ride through the woods did not work. Being a hunter would remind him of her, his little doe.

But was she ever really his?

He barely slept that night, and he knew he was not welcome in her bedchamber. So, he tossed and turned until sleep claimed him right before dawn.

When the morning came, he had to squint when the sun rays filtered through his windows. He trudged toward the breakfast room, hoping to catch Marianne for the first meal of the day.

She was not there. A creature of habit, she should have been seated in her usual chair, a book set to the right of her plate. She’d said that her father thought of it as bad manners, and perhaps it was, but she decided to defy him anyway.

The emptiness made everything else seem loud. He could hear his boots echoing on the marble floor. His fork and knife seemed to clatter more loudly on his plate, even though he was using them the same way as before.

Nothing should have changed, with breakfast still served on the well-polished mahogany table. But so much had happened in just a day.

Something moved out of the corner of his eye. Then, it purred and jumped onto Marianne’s usual seat.

Serafina.

Of course.

The tabby quickly curled up on the velvet, acting like she owned the chair. Her tail swayed lazily while she eyed him. He imagined the gaze was judgmental, although that would be foolish.

He frowned at the scene before him. Instead of feeling annoyed and shooing the cat away as would have been expected of him, he felt a sense of loss. That knot in his stomach remained tightly coiled. Then, he spotted the butler, who was not often there, and knew something was terribly wrong.

“Where is the Duchess?” he inquired in a tight voice. His throat felt raw, like it had razors in it.

The butler stood at attention and responded, “Her Grace left early this morning, Your Grace. She had mentioned visiting her family.”

Dominic’s heart skipped a beat. So, she had decided to defy him. He should have known, based on her character. Perhaps he should have approached her last night, talked to her more gently.

“Did Her Grace say when she would be returning?” he asked, trying to keep his tone neutral.

“No, Your Grace. There was no specific time provided,” the butler replied.

The older man was trained not to show any emotion or opinion, but his eyes flickered with a hint of sadness. Or perhaps Dominic was imagining it?

He squeezed his eyes shut, and the events from the day before replayed in his mind.

He had demanded so many things from his wife.

For him, it was all about her safety. For her, it was all about her freedom.

He had not been willing to compromise, however, and it had all ended with harsh words and her tear-filled eyes.

She had left the room with such finality that he should not have been surprised by the dismal morning after.

Dominic took a deep breath. He calmed himself down with the reminder that his wife was at Grisham townhouse. She was right in the middle of London, surrounded by the people she loved the most—her sisters.

Would Linpool even attempt anything with so many eyes watching? Would he orchestrate another carriage accident?

It did not seem likely, since the Viscount should know that more caution would be exercised now. Still, unease suffocated Dominic like a heavy cloak.

Marianne stepped out of the carriage in front of her father’s townhouse. Her gloved hands trembled slightly. What was she doing here?

The townhouse’s exterior was made of stone. It was hard and cold like her father.

She adjusted the bonnet to cover the bruise on her cheek. She was still in some pain, but the pain of being rejected by her husband was worse. Her palms still stung, but at least her gloves hid them.

She took a deep breath before she ascended the steps and knocked.

The door opened quickly, slightly startling her. The butler also looked surprised.

“Your Grace, we weren’t expecting you,” he said kindly, taking her luggage from her.

“I wish to see my family,” she murmured.

She stepped inside, without the need for further invitation. The butler looked a little hesitant, and she could not blame him.

“Very well, Your Grace. They are in the drawing room.”

Marianne didn’t think anything was out of the ordinary. She just did not emphasize that she wanted to see her sisters instead of her father because that did not sound proper, even to a butler who knew how family members interacted with each other.

The familiar corridors evoked some childhood memories, both pleasant and horrible. Her approach was more uncertain with every step, her legs heavy.When she drew nearer to the drawing room, she heard voices within.

“I must say, Lord Linpool, that I agree with your insights on the latest political developments. Your business acumen should also be recommended,” her father said, sounding smug, not knowing what kind of man he was dealing with.

Linpool? What is he doing here?

Her blood ran cold at the idea of being close to the man after what she’d discovered about him and what Dominic suspected of him.

Still, she was here. There was no turning back. The thought of going back to Dominic made her chest hurt.

She blinked back her tears and pushed the door open.

From her very entrance, she locked gazes with the impeccably dressed man seated across from her father.A table was set between them, laden with cups of tea and a plate of tarts. Elizabeth was seated next to their father, looking pale.

Anger surged through Marianne.

So, they still found a way to make the two meet.

“Marianne!” Elizabeth exclaimed, hope clear in her eyes.

Some color had returned to her cheeks. She thought of her sister as her protector. She didn’t know that Dominic wanted to protect Marianne to the point of imprisoning her and that this visit was more to make a point.

Linpool gave Marianne an assessing glance, his expression one of feigned surprise.

“Your Grace. What a pleasant surprise! We’ve certainly missed you. You were always flitting from one thing to another, forgetting me,” he drawled, sounding like she’d wounded him.

“I was not aware you were visiting, Lord Linpool,” Marianne said coldly, her eyes narrowing on him.

She knew that she was making a mistake and that she should have chosen diplomacy, but she could not help it.

“Marianne, it is your visit that I am unaware of,” her father interjected sternly. “You should have sent prior notice. Lord Linpool, on the other hand, had requested a meeting with Elizabeth.”

“I apologize, Father,” she gritted out, even as her gaze remained on the unwanted guest—unwanted to her, at least. “I felt the need to see my family.”

Elizabeth leaned closer to Marianne, her eyes wide as she saw her sister’s face.

“You’re hurt!” she said softly, clamping a hand over her mouth.

“It was merely a minor accident,” Marianne replied with a forced smile.

Linpool seemed to think it was his turn to express his concern, even though he didn’t seem against giving away veiled threats.

“I do hope you are truly all right, Your Grace. Accidents, after all, can be so unpredictable.”

“Ah. I do agree with you there, my lord. Some accidents seem almost deliberate,” Marianne retorted, glaring at him openly.

“Do you think someone has deliberately caused your supposed accident, Your Grace?” Linpool asked with aggravating innocence.

“You tell me, Lord Linpool, as I suspect you are an expert in this particular field, aside from the business and political views you claim to be knowledgeable of,” she retorted.

“Ah, but I don’t know where you are getting such an idea, Your Grace—that I am pretending to be your father’s humble servant and your sister’s suitor,” he replied callously, but with a smile so charming one would think the conversation was more pleasant.

“Marianne, that’s enough!” Lord Grisham scolded, thumping his cane on the floor.

Ah. The cane. Dominic did not know what it was like to be subjected to the horrors of not knowing whether he would be caned for disobedience. The possibility mostly hung in the air, but it was enough.

Finally, Marianne turned to look at her father.

“Father, may I speak with you in private?” she asked.

It was her intention in the first place, to be able to talk to her family about what she was going through. It wasn’t realistic, though. It had never been.

Her father would not listen to her. After all, he always thought that women had wild imaginations.

“We have a guest,” he pointed out firmly, shaking his head. “It would be rude to leave him behind. You can say whatever it is you want to say in front of the Viscount.”

Marianne stifled a scoff. She clamped her jaw shut and breathed deeply until she was calmer. “Very well.”

She sat primly and slowly, positioning herself diagonally across from Linpool. She watched him directly, though.

“So, Lord Linpool, are you planning to stay in London longer? I am not sure where to stay, here or in the countryside. Or whose estate it should be, my father’s or my husband’s.”

Linpool smiled at her, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Why had she not noticed that about him before? Insincerity came with his charm.

“It depends on business, Your Grace. At the moment, I am occupied by some new ventures, and of course—” He paused to look at Elizabeth. Marianne shuddered. “Some other pursuits.”

“Of course,” she said, feigning enthusiasm. Her tone was saccharine sweet, and she wondered if her father noticed. So far, she had not been caned, and no admonishment followed. “You must attend to such affairs for your life’s balance.”

Marianne thought of the kind of affairs the man had found himself entangled in. Yet, somehow, she managed to hold a conversation with Linpool and her father. Lord Grisham did not seem to notice the underlying tension in the seemingly idle chatter.