Page 107 of Claiming his Cursed Duchess

Blood spurted over the wooden floorboards beneath their feet as Claridge wailed in pain, collapsing to the floor.

Adam could already hear the heavy tramp of footsteps ascending the stairs, and knew that the second part of his plan was moving into place.

“You will think of me and my wife every day, sir. You will wish that you hadgroveledat my feet to make amends for the pain you have put her through. But, from this day forth, we will never think of you again.”

The door burst open as a number of constables barged into the room.

The lead officer nodded to Adam, as he indicated Claridge was their man, and they lifted his prone figure from the floor, blood running down his face, his shirt untied, no shoes on his feet.

A pathetic man, meeting a pathetic end.

Adam watched them drag him out as he released a long, relieved breath.

A few minutes later Adam walked out into the hustle and bustle of the London streets, breathing in the city air without a care in the world.

He was finally free, and there was only one person he wished to celebrate with.

Rosaline heard the softsnickof the door as she sat reading her book in the library at Oldstone.

She glanced up at the clock, surprised that Adam had already returned.

She stood as he walked into the room, taking in the calm demeanor and confident stride of a man who had succeeded in his task.

“You found him?” she asked.

“I did.”

“Is it all over?”

He took her into his arms, his lips lifting up at the edges.

“Oh yes. Claridge will never trouble you again.”

Rosaline felt an infuriating mixture of relief and guilt at the news.

“Are you all right?” Adam asked with a frown. “I expected you to be jumping for joy that he was gone.”

“Oh I am. Truly. I am very grateful to you for?—”

“You do not need to be grateful to me,” he said firmly. “Not ever. I did this forus. We are united in all things, or have I not made that plain enough?” he asked with a smirk lowering his head to her neck and kissing along it, making her shudder.

“You have made it very plain,” she said breathlessly as he pushed her back toward the chair before the fire. “But I still pity him.”

Adam’s tongue touched the skin of her neck as a low moan burst from her throat.

“Lord Claridge does not deserve another moment of your time. Do not waste your pity on him—he has made his choices in life, and he will pay for them.”

He lowered her into the seat as he moved slowly down her body, his hands running reverently over the folds of her gown.

“You look very beautiful today,” he said, his fingers deliberately tracing the scars across her arms as he said it.

“So you say every day,” she said with a laugh.

“I sometimes think you need reminding,” he said as his hands moved to the hem of her gown and began to move it upward toward her knees.

“Adam, we are in the library, anyone could enter and see us!” she said, feeling scandalized, and yet she made no move to stop him.

“Then I suggest, my exquisite duchess, that you remain very quiet while I attend to you.”