Page 101 of Duke of Wickedness

He was afraid, Ariadne realized. It seemed obvious now, and it seemed ridiculous that she’d never considered it before. She understood how she had missed it; she’d grown accustomed to seeing him as the one in control of things, the one who had served as her guide through everything she wanted to know.

It hadn’t occurred to her that he might feel lost, too.

Ariadne hadn’t always been brave, but she thought that maybe this meant she knew the weight of bravery better than others. She knew how to dig for it, how to fight for it when she needed it.

She needed it now. She could be brave now.

And, if she was very, very lucky, that would be enough to keep her hope burning.

“Do you make a habit of going to brothels?” she asked.

This abrupt shift clearly surprised him.

“I—no,” he said.

“Do you harass your maids?” she pressed.

His horror couldn’t be faked. “Christ! Of course not.”

“And do you regularly ruin ladies?”

He was beginning to understand what she was getting at. It had taken him long enough, she thought fondly.

“I probably ruined you just now,” he said, jerking his head back toward the ballroom. “You were only now just shouting at me about it.”

Despite herself, Ariadne smiled. He couldn’t have set things up better for her if he had tried.

“It needn’t mean ruination,” she said, smiling shyly at him. “You know what it would take to fix things.”

He looked frankly terrified, but he didn’t leave.

“Ariadne—”

She kept talking. She didn’t want him to convince himself of his own insufficiencies, and she didn’t want to lose her own nerve.

“You aren’t your father,” she said flatly. “I didn’t know him—” Which was lucky for the late duke, she thought furiously but did not say. “—but I know that much. Moreover, I am not your mother. If you betrayed me… Well, actually, I wouldn’t have to do anything, because my brothers would murder you. And that’s if Catherine didn’t get to you first.”

“That’s what Percy said,” David muttered.

Ariadne found the idea that Percy knew anything about any of this to be unsettling in the extreme, but she decided to handle that horrifying little detail later.

“I am not afraid of you,” she said. “I’ve been ready to throttle you a dozen times this month, but I’ve never been afraid of you. So those other things—they don’t matter.”

He hesitated before his next objection, and the light inside her grew.

She needed that light. She needed all her courage to get through the next part.

“Here is what matters,” she said, her heart pounding in her chest. “I love you. I love that you showed me what I wanted tosee when I asked you. I love that you use your power to make the world safe for people who don’t. I love that you care enough to try to protect me—even if you are unbelievably, idiotically misguided for doing so.”

She stepped forward then, because she could not hold back any longer. She was relieved beyond measure when he didn’t shy away from her touch as she laid her hand on his arm.

“So,” she said, feeling the way he trembled with tension. “The past doesn’t matter. Yes, some marriages end badly. But some don’t. And this—” She waved a hand between them. “Things between us right now are already terrible. I miss you.” She sniffed, but kept going. “I miss you so much that it is killing me. So if you don’t love me back?—”

“I do.” The words came out of him in a rush.

Ariadne felt as though her heart might burst out of her.

“You do?” she asked, breathless.