Page 79 of How to Love a Duke in Ten Days

Fucking hell. She’d asked him to douse the bloody lights. What validation did he need beyond that? She couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

How had he been so blind?

Because genuine feeling had glimmered in her eyes when she’d cupped his face and called him handsome in the darkness of her doorway.

He’d believed her.

And, just like that, he was no longer angry at her. Only at himself. Had there ever lived such an absolute dupe?

“How long until your monthly courses?” he asked on an exhausted sigh.

“I—I’m sorry… Pardon?”

“I’m not unsympathetic to the woman’s plight.” He summoned into his voice an unperturbed tranquility. “I do not insist on being the first man who’s fucked you, but I do insist on being the unquestioned father of your child.”

“I’mnotwith child,” she vowed. “Please. I can’t explain, but I can swear to you that—”

He wanted no more empty promises. No more lies. No more secrets.No. More.“I’ll ask you only once again.” A foreign, acerbic vehemence crept into his tone, one that had sent warlords and beasts alike scurrying away in fear. “When are you scheduled to bleed next?”

“Ten days.” Her voice had become so small, that something withered inside of him, as well.

“Ten days,” he clipped. “Very well. When it arrives—ifit arrives—I’ll come for you after.” He snapped up his jacket and shirt and stormed out into the night.

CHAPTERFOURTEEN

It’d taken Alexandra an alarming portion of the next morning to search the entire first- and second-class decks for her missing husband.

Where could a duke hide on a ship?

And what would happen once she found him?

She should have dressed and gone to him last night instead of awaiting his return, sobbing quietly until exhaustion claimed her.

His valet had awoken her upon discreetly sliding into their rooms to obtain some of his things.

As Alexandra hunted, she berated herself. For such an educated woman, she could certainly be a magnificent dunce. How had she overlooked such a tiny detail as her missing virginity? She’d read about a hymen in certain texts and had known she no longer possessed one. However, it’d never once crossed her mind that a man would notice.

That he’d be so furious.

That he’d draw certain conclusions.

It had never crossed her mind because she simply would never have considered such a deception. Despite her terrible secrets, she’d never been a devious woman. She was a scientist, after all. She dealt in facts and data. Fictions and fibs never served her but the one.

The one keeping her neck from a noose.

What sort of woman would try to pass off her bastard as a duke’s heir? As any man’s child, really. To do something so shameful was abjectly unforgivable.

Alexandra put a hand to her belly, where unease mixed with relief. There were situations where a woman could be so desperate, so destitute, she’d be driven to that sort of deceit. The world was a cruel place, even crueler to the helpless.

“Thank God,” she whispered for perhaps the hundredth time. Thank God de Marchand hadn’t sired a child that night. Because, as much as she ached for one now, the evidence so long ago would have been damning.

So, what should she do about today’s disaster?

She’d absolutely choked when faced with her husband’s fury last night.

It wasn’t that she’d forgotten his banked rage, it was just that Redmayne seemed to discard it in her presence. As thoughhe’dforgotten it when she was nearby. He’d treated her with such tender deference. Like she was a treasure he’d uncovered. Something precious.

That was the case no longer, and his rage was currently directed ather.