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L ord, I hope the servants did not hear me.

Alicia was mortified and exhilarated in equal measure. The pleasure still pulsed through her body.

Seth had barely moved for the remainder of their journey, sitting across from her, a gentle—and smug—smile playing on his lips.

She did not know whether to scold him or die of shame.

When they finally arrived back at the manor, Alicia’s thundering heart had calmed somewhat, but as soon as he reached for her hand, the desire pulsed through her again.

Katie and Bridget will be very disappointed in me. I am weaker than I thought.

But as they alighted from the carriage, his smile faded, and his brow was furrowed as they made their way into the house.

Alicia watched him warily, unsure where this change had come from, and as they made their way up the stairs to their chambers, she pulled back.

Seth turned to her, his eyebrows raised in query.

“What is it?” she asked. “You seem troubled.”

Seth shook his head slowly. “I apologize,” he said, sounding tired. “I should not have done that.”

Alicia frowned. “You regret it?”

Seth’s gaze sharpened as he gave another gentle shake of his head.

“Not for the reasons you think,” he said gently. “It seems when it comes to you, my emotions are…”

He looked up the stairs, the moonlight highlighting his handsome features.

“They are compromised,” he whispered. “I should not have been so bold.”

She did not know how to respond. His answer had all but confirmed his regret.

Should I feel ashamed?

He held out his hand once more, and Alicia had no choice but to take it, even as uncertainty rose inside her.

As they reached her room, Seth lingered beside her, his body close and heated against her skin. His scent surrounded her, and she fought not to inhale greedily.

“Goodnight Duchess,” he muttered slowly. “Thank you for a most enjoyable evening.”

Alicia watched him walk to his room, glancing back at her before he disappeared through the door.

How am I ever going to understand this man? He changes from one minute to the next.

Alicia wondered whether her husband would come to her that night. She lay in her bed, waiting for him, thinking that he was sure to continue what had begun in the carriage.

He did not.

She awoke the next day with the same strange unease in her gut. The only way she could dispel it was to occupy herself with her plan to repel him.

If he regrets our time together, I shall make him want me even less!

She wore another outrageous dress to breakfast, with two sashes slung across the skirts in colors that did not complement one another, but her heart was not really in it.

It did not help that the servants seemed to be getting used to her antics and barely batted an eye when she arrived. Seth, too, simply glanced at her quizzically and made no comment.

They did not discuss the strange shift in his demeanor the night before, and after breakfast, he left for his club.

On the second day, she walked into the library to find him playing with Dove, a happy smile on his face. But as soon as he saw her, he left them alone.

On the third day, he ignored her attempts to gossip. Seth seemed to enjoy hearing the unusual machinations of the ton almost as much as she did.

She was beginning to lose hope of ever finding a topic that bored him. He listened attentively to every word she said.

Even the most ridiculous part of her plan, to pretend to be interested in birdwatching, had somehow become one of her favorite pastimes.

Seth always breakfasted outside when the sun was out, and he had started to teach her all about the birds in the gardens.

He had even introduced her to the robin, who perched on the balcony most mornings, and they had taken to leaving him some bread crumbs to feast on each day.

In short, her plan was working terribly, but her feelings about the marriage had not changed. She was uncertain how she felt about being a duchess and still felt trapped.

Habits were forming in her daily routine that she would never have expected to enjoy.

She walked the grounds, visited the buzzards, planted bulbs, and researched what might grow in the right areas of the garden.

Alicia loved the manor and was beginning to cherish her time in it, but she still missed her sister and her friends and Society.

It was as if, in the time she was spending at the manor, she was losing a part of herself, her character becoming diluted by her duties. No matter how accommodating and fair Seth had been, the fact remained that Alicia had been taken from the life she had always known.

Her father had not written to her once since she had moved to the manor, and every day she waited for the post to arrive, pleased to hear from Katie, Bridget, and her sister, but never from him .

She felt as if her father had discarded her. As if he did not care whether she was happy with Seth. To him, her feelings were irrelevant.

She did not know why she cared, but she did. She would often pick up her quill, intending to write to him, but would change her mind at the last minute.

Seth had also started to distance himself the days after the ball.

She passed by his study deliberately a few times a day and could hear him reading aloud to himself or pacing back and forth before the fire.

The carpet in front of the hearth was becoming positively threadbare.

One evening after supper, she had been with Dove in the drawing room for a couple of hours. The kitten sat on the settee, falling asleep when she wasn’t playing with Alicia’s skirts, and Alicia had read her book contentedly until she realized the time, frowning as the clock struck midnight.

Seth’s routines were always fluid, but tonight it bothered her that he was still working and had been reading through his correspondence for so long.

They had not spoken much at supper. He appeared preoccupied and brooding, his responses more clipped than usual, his eyes distant.

Rising from her seat, she went to find him, suddenly nervous about going to knock on his door.

To think I had a plan to disrupt his work and spill tea over his books only a few weeks ago. That thought seems horrifying now.

She knocked, wondering if he might have fallen asleep, and was surprised when the door swung open and his angry glare met hers.

It softened a fraction when he saw her, but not much.

“What is it?” he asked, frowning at Dove, cradled in Alicia’s arms.

“I was wondering what you were doing,” she said lamely, unsure why she had chosen to disturb him.

“I am working,” he bit out.

“On what?”

“Work,” he replied irritably.

When she didn’t leave, he sighed heavily and pushed the door open, allowing her to come in as he walked back to the desk.

Alicia stared at the papers scattered over every surface. There were crumpled piles of them around the hearth, as if he had written many versions of the same letter and thrown them aside.

“Are you looking for something? You have been at it for days.”

“It is not your concern,” he muttered, sitting down heavily behind his desk and pinching the bridge of his nose.

Alicia stood awkwardly before the fire, before placing Dove on the floor. The kitten began to bat at one of the smaller balls of paper and play with it.

Seth watched her, his eyes filling with warmth as she began to leap and dance over the carpet.

“I think that cat is feral,” he muttered.

Alicia walked over to his desk, taking in the letters across the surface. Her heart stuttered when a thought rose in the back of her mind.

Could they all be from the same person? Was he trying to write to someone? A woman, perhaps?

The idea that Seth had a mistress, that he had married her when his heart belonged to someone else, upset her more than it should.

Perhaps he had wanted to marry this woman but had been thwarted, and the numerous letters in the fire were him trying to explain why they could never see one another again.

“What is that look for?” he asked, his gaze darkening again.

Alicia fidgeted and gave a half-shrug. “I was just wondering who these are all from,” she ventured.

Seth sat back in his chair, his hands resting on his taut stomach, his eyes glittering wickedly. “Oh yes? Who do you think they are from?”

Alicia crossed her arms over her chest. “We have not known one another for long, so perhaps…”

“Perhaps?” he prompted, real amusement in his eyes now.

“Perhaps you have—had—a mistress.”

I hate the thought of him with anyone else, and yet I have been trying to repel him for weeks.

The dress she wore was a testament to that; it had a lurid orange stripe running down the center, which was quite revolting.

Seth leaned forward, his elbows on the desk.

“And if I did?” he asked, standing up and coming round to her.

Alicia stepped back, her anger rising. “I suppose she would have existed before me.”

“Mm, almost certainly. And if all of these letters—dozens of letters—are from her, what will you do about it, Duchess?”

He was advancing on her now, and she kept moving backward until her back hit the wall beside the fireplace.

“Do?” she asked heatedly. “I learned long ago that men act as they please. There is little I could do. ”

Seth chuckled, the sound shuddering through her as she shivered.

“You are stunning when you are jealous, Duchess. I might take a mistress simply to enrage you.”

Alicia moved to shove him aside and leave the room, but his hands gripped her wrists, in an echo of their time in the woods, and she gasped sharply as he pushed her back.

His scent enveloped her again, and her eyes fluttered, her head falling back against the wall.

“I remember telling you before that you should not lay a hand on me if you do not want it returned,” he said darkly.

Alicia struggled against his grip. “Let me go.”

For a frozen moment, neither of them moved, his weight heavy against her. He moved forward, his lips brushing lightly over her jaw, one side and then the other, until they slowly moved to her mouth.

He hovered above her, inches away, the heat of him all-encompassing, driving her mad.

Then, slowly, he pulled back, his eyes softening.

“The letters are from a friend of mine,” he murmured. “Long gone now. I am trying to find something I am sure he told me. It is taking longer than I thought.”

Alicia stopped struggling. Seth’s eyes had turned from dark brown to almost black, and there was such deep sadness in them that she felt an icy chill race down her back.

He stepped back, tugging at his coat as his eyes swept over the room. “It is late, and I have been in here for too long. Come, let us go upstairs.”

He offered her his arm, and she felt a shiver of anticipation at the change of topic.

Seth seemed to throw off his grief with a shake of his head as he slowly led her out of the study and up the stairs to their bedchambers.

Alicia’s heart was thudding so hard that she could feel it against her ribs. A frisson of excitement skipped over her heated skin as she glanced at him.

Is he expecting me to invite him in tonight? Is that what he wants?

But as they reached her bedchamber, he did not pause for long. He released her arm and bowed solemnly, his eyes lingering on hers for a powerful second, before he nodded, turned around, and walked to his chambers.

Alicia watched until he was out of sight, unsure why his leaving her tonight made her more disappointed than relieved.