Page 5 of Dukes All Night Long

V anessa Abelard did not chew her fingernails or wring her hands.

Unlike her husband—who did all those things.

The weak, milquetoast man had been a strategic choice on her part.

She’d known, when she married him, that he would always do her bidding.

That he would yield to her moods, her ambitions, her cruelty.

But now, as they were about to face her sister—risen from the dead like Lazarus—his natural tendency toward cowardice was most irritating.

“Do stop your sniveling, Thomas!” she snapped, the admonishment as sharp and cold as cracked glass. “Whether they know or suspect our involvement in Verity’s disappearance, the moment you show your face like that, we’ll be caught out for sure.”

Thomas shook his head, his hands fluttering near his chest like nervous birds. “She is a duchess. Her husband is a duke!”

“That is, generally speaking, Thomas, how one becomes a duchess,” she said, rolling her eyes at him and all his usual theatrics.

“The penalty for what we did—if we are caught—is death! I do not want to hang for this! For your petty feud with your sister.”

Petty? One dark, winged brow lifted in a slow arc. He had no idea. No one had any idea.

Her entire life had been one of comparison.

Separately, they were physically indistinguishable from one another.

Side by side, Verity had always been the slightly prettier one.

She’d certainly always been the sweet one.

The kind one. The nice one. If Vanessa had a shilling for every time someone had told her to be more like Verity, she’d have had a fortune of her own and no need for a worthless husband like Thomas Abelard.

Or a wretched, controlling mother-in-law who refused to shuffle off the mortal coil so that Thomas would finally have access to the fortune she’d married him for.

“You know nothing of my feud with my sister,” she hissed, the words tight and clipped between clenched teeth.

“Your mother thinks you are perfect. And she never ceases to tell me—whenever we are in her presence—that I am unworthy of such a distinction. Until you’ve been found wanting, found somehow less than, by every single person of your acquaintance, I will thank you to keep such opinions where they belong. ”

As if he’d recognized how far and how unwisely he’d pushed her, he began to grovel—as only he was capable of. “I am so sorry, my dearest. I shouldn’t have said it. I’m only worried for us. For you .”

On that score, they were at least in agreement. She was very worried for herself too.

Perhaps she could lay the blame entirely on Thomas.

Make it seem as though it had been his idea all along.

They’d hang him, and she’d be a widow—free to marry another wealthy man while she was still young enough and pretty enough to attract one.

The next one, she thought, would be old .

One foot and four toes in the grave, preferably.

And generous, she thought. He would be extremely generous.

“Are you certain this is wise?” Verity asked, looking down at the green velvet she wore. Her voice was quiet, but there was a tremor beneath it, one that betrayed the thrum of nerves beneath her poise.

“I am,” Colin said without hesitation. “We do not need to tell her you remember everything. We need to let her think you are on the cusp of it, however. That will force her to act swiftly. She will make her attempt to silence you—we both know that. But there will be servants positioned inside every room, waiting for the slightest sound of distress… she will not hurt you again. She most assuredly will not separate us again.”

It was a sound plan. Terrifying, but sound.

Vanessa would be infuriated to see her in her wedding finery. That much was certain. And also terrified that she might have to pay the consequences for her actions. It would drive her to do something rash. Something dangerous.

He was facing away from her, staring once more at the portrait. It was clear to her, even from behind, that he was aware of the danger as well. It was evident in the tight set of his shoulders, the hard line of his jaw as it clenched tightly. His stillness was the kind that preceded action.

“I do not yet remember all the details… or if I do, I certainly haven’t had a chance to sort through it all,” she said quietly. “But I remember our courtship. And I remember how terribly excited I was to be your wife. I was hopeful and eager. Nervous. All the things a bride should be, I suppose.”

He glanced at her then, his gaze softening.

“I felt all those things too. And then it all went away, seemingly in the blink of an eye. I’m angry at myself.

I should have known—should have recognized—that it wasn’t simply a matter of you pretending to be something you were not in order to lure me into marriage. ”

“Women have been trying to lure you into marriage for a very long time,” she said with a faint, sad smile.

“I know how everyone responded when they found out I was marrying a man with such an exalted title. Suddenly, people who hadn’t cared about me at all wished to be my bosom companion. I understand your suspicion.”

“But do you forgive it?” he asked.

“Do you forgive me?”

“You’ve done nothing wrong!” he insisted.

“When you look at me, you will still see the face of the woman who treated you so horribly. Who treated your poor sister so horribly! Can you honestly say that will never come between us?”

He stepped closer to her, taking both her hands in his. Then he pressed them to his chest, just over his heart, the steady beat beneath her palms anchoring them both.

“I can vow to you that so long as my heart still beats, nothing will come between us. Ever again.”

“I wish…”

“What do you wish?”

It was a terrible and terrifying confession.

“I wish that we didn’t have to do this. That we could slip away to our bedchamber and finally have the wedding night we’ve been denied.”

His eyes darkened, his voice a low vow. “Oh, have no doubt—tonight, you will be my wife fully… in every way. And I am most eager to revisit the delights awaiting us.”

He kissed her, just a soft press of his lips to hers, but it left her reeling and breathless. A promise. A spark. A beginning.

And then, the butler cleared his throat discreetly.

“The carriage is approaching, Your Grace. We must move quickly so everyone is in position.”

“Yes, Whitman. See to it,” Colin said, his tone snapping back to command. “We have our own places to take before this farce begins.”