Page 76 of Claiming his Cursed Duchess

Silas remained silent, waiting for further instruction. Adam knew he didn’t need to elaborate. Silas, like all his men, understood the unspoken code. Loyalty above all else.

He dismissed Silas with a curt nod, the image of Claridge’s smug face fueling his resolve. He would find the letter, he would expose the earl, and he would ensure that Claridge paid dearly for his insolence. He would make an example of him, a warning to anyone who dared to cross him.

He reached for a quill and ink, his mind already calculating his next move. He would play a dangerous game, a game of cat and mouse, with the fate of the earl hanging in the balance.

And he would win. He always won.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“You are staring, husband.”

Adam’s gaze sharpened from where he stood beside Rosaline’s bedchamber door. He had thought himself unobserved until their eyes met in the mirror.

He pushed off the doorway, wandering into the room and watching his wife with a wan smile as she placed the final sparkling diamond into her hair.

“These are very beautiful,” he said, gently touching one of the glittering pins as she smiled up at him.

“They were my mother’s. I am glad you like them.”

She contemplated their reflections in the mirror, cocking her head to one side as her smile grew.

“We do make a handsome couple, Your Grace,” she said teasingly.

He liked hearing that from her. She was usually so reserved about her appearance, but tonight she held herself with confidence.

“Indeed we do, although I believe you make up at least two thirds of the appeal.”

“Only two thirds?” she asked as he smirked in reply.

“Come,” he said, holding out his hand to her, a familiar thrill running over his skin as she took it. “We shall be late if we do not hurry.”

Roseline sighed heavily. “I shall never get used to the sheer number of invitations you receive when you are in London.”

“Whenweare in London. They cannot help themselves. Curiosity killed the cat, you know, and they are all eager to meet my bride.”

Rosaline rolled her eyes as they descended the stairs to the carriage.

“At least there will be dancing,” she said wearily, as they made their way through the entrance hall and out into the night.

The Lauriston ball was a fine occasion, with the crème de la crème of London society in attendance.

The townhouse danced with light, lilting music spilling out onto the street, where carriages and horses jostled for position as the guests who were in attendance arrived in style.

Lord Lauriston was a well-known businessman and a popular one at that. There was barely a spare foot of space to be seen as they entered the ballroom.

Adam’s jaw tightened when, almost immediately, his gaze alighted on Lord Claridge, laughing pompously on the other side of the room, spilling port all over the floor.

Of course, that odious little man is here again, I shall never be rid of him until I can beat him at his own game.

Adam glanced at his wife, whose eager eyes were taking in the room around them.

Her bearing was a stark contrast to the last occasion they had attended. She seemed altogether more relaxed and buoyant in herself, and he felt warm pleasure at the sight.

“What a crush,” Rosaline said, turning her dazzling eyes on him. “Shall we make out way to the refreshment table? I am already gasping for air in this place.”

“I cannot believe the man knows so many people,” Adam said, bewildered by the sheer volume of guests.

They made their way slowly through the room, Adam’s lips lifting up at the edges as he felt Rosaline’s fingers interlace with his own, drawing him forward.