Page 16 of Wedded to the Duke of Seduction (Dukes of Passion #3)

CHAPTER 16

“ F ive hundred pounds? Your Grace, I had expected the Countess—pardon me, the Duchess—to make this payment herself.” Robert Giles’s obsequious smile faltered as Leo placed a bank draft for ten thousand pounds on the businessman’s desk.

“I am settling the debt in full,” Leo replied, his voice deceptively calm as he regarded the overweight man across the cluttered desk.

Even in his fancy coat, Giles looked like a man who preyed on the vulnerable.

Giles’s eyes widened as he examined the bank draft. “This is… most unexpected. And most generous.” His fingers caressed the paper with disturbing reverence. “Though I note the amount exceeds the agreed-upon sum.”

“Nine thousand, two hundred and forty pounds to clear Lord Asquith’s debt,” Leo confirmed, maintaining his rigid posture. “The remainder is to ensure your discretion.”

“My discretion?” Giles repeated, feigning innocence.

Leo leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a register that had made braver men than Giles tremble. “The debt, the payment, and most importantly, any connection to my wife—all of it remains private. Should you ever approach the Duchess again, should I hear even a whisper of her name from your lips, should any rumor of this transaction reach society’s ears…” He left the threat deliberately unfinished.

“I—of course, Your Grace,” Giles stammered, color draining from his florid face. “Complete discretion. You have my word as a gentleman.”

“You are no gentleman,” Leo corrected coldly. “But I trust you understand self-preservation.”

Giles swallowed audibly. “Perfectly, Your Grace.”

“Excellent.” Leo rose in one fluid motion. “Then our business is concluded.”

Leo walked out of Giles’s office without waiting for him or offering a goodbye. Giles’s obvious fear would do more to keep him quiet than any threats could.

The fresh spring air felt good after the stuffy room, and Leo took a deep breath as he headed down the steps toward his waiting carriage.

“Home, Your Grace?” his coachman asked, opening the door.

Leo paused. The dressmaker was scheduled to visit the house today, preparing Marina’s new wardrobe. He ought to go home to oversee things and make sure his duchess had everything she needed.

But Marina’s reaction last night stuck in his mind—how quickly she’d pulled away when he touched her, how stiff and formal she’d become. Facing her again right away suddenly felt awkward.

“No,” he said finally. “Take me to White’s.”

The short drive gave him a moment to sort through his thoughts.

Avoiding uncomfortable situations wasn’t his style—usually, he tackled them head-on. But Marina’s reaction had gotten under his skin more than he’d expected.

Then again, she hadn’t exactly rejected him. Their marriage was purely practical. He had no right to expect genuine affection from her or the kind of response he got from other women.

Yet, he’d noticed a flicker in her eyes before she’d pulled away—a brief hint of interest or desire quickly hidden. That moment of vulnerability, combined with their surprisingly comfortable conversation, had stirred something in him he wasn’t ready to think about too closely.

The carriage pulled to a stop outside the exclusive gentlemen’s club, and Leo descended, nodding to the doorman, who recognized him immediately despite his long absence from London.

“Your Grace! What an unexpected pleasure,” the club secretary greeted him. “Lord Blytheton is in the card room. Shall I inform him of your arrival?”

“No need,” Leo replied, handing his hat and gloves to a waiting attendant. “I’ll find him myself.”

The familiar scent of leather, tobacco, and fine brandy enveloped him as he moved through the club’s hallowed halls. Here, at least, was territory he understood—the bastion of masculine privilege where rules were clear and expectations straightforward.

He found Noah engaged in a game of whist with several other gentlemen. His friend’s face lit with surprise and pleasure at his appearance.

Leo had barely been married a day, and already, he found himself at the club.

“I thought we’d lost you to marital bliss,” Noah teased, rising to shake Leo’s hand. Turning to his companions, he added with a smirk, “Gentlemen, excuse me. My friend here has just returned from his honeymoon.”

The amused laughter that followed made Leo’s jaw tighten though he kept his expression neutral as Noah guided him toward a quiet corner. They settled into leather armchairs near the stone fireplace.

“Brandy?” Noah suggested, signaling to a passing servant.

“Please.”

Once they were settled with drinks in hand, Noah leaned back with a smirk. “So, the Duke emerges from his love nest. I’m surprised you could tear yourself away so soon. Your bride is quite captivating.”

Leo took a measured sip of his brandy. “There was no love nest, Blytheton. I had business to attend to.”

“Business,” Noah repeated skeptically. “On the second day of your marriage? What could possibly be more pressing than attending to your lovely duchess?”

“Settling her late husband’s debts,” Leo replied succinctly.

Noah’s expression sobered. “Ah, our friend Giles. I trust you were… persuasive?”

“Sufficiently.”

“Good.” Noah raised his glass in a small salute. “The man’s a viper. Though I must say, it’s unlike you to abandon a beautiful woman to handle such matters personally. Especially when that woman has only been your wife for twenty-four hours.”

There was something in Noah’s tone, a question beneath the teasing, that made Leo uncomfortably aware of his friend’s perceptiveness.

“The modiste is with her today,” he said, deflecting. “I doubt my presence would be welcome during such fittings.”

“Mmm.” Noah’s expression suggested he wasn’t convinced by this explanation. “And does the Duchess know you’re here instead of attending to your own affairs?”

Leo’s fingers tightened imperceptibly around his glass. “I don’t make a habit of accounting for my movements, even to my wife.”

“Of course not.” Noah’s smile was too knowing for comfort. “Though most men might be reluctant to stray from a bride who looks at them the way Marina looked at you during your wedding breakfast.”

“And how was that?” Leo asked, unable to contain his curiosity despite his better judgment.

“It was hard to tell if she was more fascinated or frightened,” Noah said, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “Much like a mouse wondering if it could befriend the cat.”

Leo scoffed. “Poetic but inaccurate. Our arrangement is practical, nothing more.”

“Alice has already arranged a tea for next week to properly welcome Marina to their ranks. And Gerard mentioned something about a dinner once you’ve had time to settle into married life.”

The easy acceptance of Marina by his closest friends should have pleased Leo. Instead, it added to the unsettled feeling that had haunted him since their wedding. Everyone around them seemed to view their marriage as natural, even inevitable—everyone except the two people actually involved.

“So, what’s she like?” Noah asked suddenly.

“What do you mean?”

“Behind closed doors,” Noah clarified, his roguish grin returning. “Is she as passionate as her writing suggests? Does she?—”

“That’s enough, Blytheton,” Leo cut him off sharply.

Noah’s eyebrows rose at his tone. “My, my. Territorial already? That was quick.”

Leo forced his expression to relax into something more casual. “Simply maintaining appropriate discretion about my wife.”

“Your wife,” Noah echoed, a strange smile playing at his lips. “How easily that trips off your tongue for a man who swore he’d never marry.”

“Circumstances change,” Leo replied, draining his glass.

“Indeed, they do.” Noah signaled for another round. “Though I must admit, when I encouraged you to find a distraction from your search for William, I never expected you to choose a wife—and certainly not one who writes scandalous stories for a living.”

“Former occupation,” Leo corrected automatically.

“Ah, so the writing is finished then?” Noah accepted two fresh glasses from the servant. “Pity. I was rather looking forward to the next installment.”

Leo accepted the new brandy with a nod of thanks. “Marina has agreed to focus her talents elsewhere.”

“Generous of her.” Noah’s tone suggested he found this development interesting. “And what will she do with herself now, besides organize your household?”

The question caught Leo off guard. He had assumed Marina would find suitable occupations—managing the townhouse, taking part in society events, perhaps continuing to write stories that didn’t involve him—but he realized suddenly that they hadn’t discussed specifics.

“I imagine she’ll keep herself busy,” he said finally.

“I’m sure she will,” Noah agreed though there was something in his expression that made Leo wonder if his friend knew more than he was letting on. “Women like Marina rarely remain idle for long.”

They lapsed into a companionable silence, interrupted occasionally by Noah’s observations about other club members or bits of society gossip.

Leo listened with half an ear, his thoughts continually circling back to the townhouse on Berkeley Square where his new duchess was likely being fitted for gowns while he hid away at his club like a coward.

Because that was what he was doing, he admitted privately. Hiding. Not from Giles or society, or even Noah’s knowing smirks, but from the unfamiliar feelings that Marina had stirred in him.

Physical attraction he understood. He had experienced it countless times before, satisfied it with willing partners, and moved on without complication. But this persistent awareness of Marina, this curiosity about her thoughts, this strange pleasure in her company—this was something different.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Noah’s voice broke into his reverie.

Leo blinked and then realized he’d been staring into his brandy for some time. “Not worth half that amount.”

“I disagree.” Noah leaned back in his chair, studying him with uncommon seriousness. “I haven’t seen you this distracted since… well, since before William left.”

The mention of his brother sent the familiar pang through Leo’s chest. “Matthews sent word last week,” he said, seizing the opportunity to change subjects. “He had a promising lead in Brussels, but they’d already moved on.”

Noah frowned. “And you’re still here? The Leo I know would have been on the first ship to the continent.”

“I had business to finish here,” Leo replied, the excuse sounding hollow even to his own ears.

“Yes, your sudden marriage to our literary duchess,” Noah said, swirling his brandy. “Interesting timing, wouldn’t you say? Just as Matthews provides you with actual evidence of William’s whereabouts.”

Leo regarded his friend coolly. “If you have something to say, Blytheton, say it plainly.”

“Very well.” Noah set his glass down with deliberate precision. “I’ve watched you chase your brother across Europe for years, abandoning everything at the merest hint of his location. Yet here you sit, drinking brandy with me while Brussels grows cold.”

“Marina needed protection,” Leo replied, his voice tight. “It was the honorable thing to do.”

“Honor?” Noah chuckled softly. “Since when has honor outweighed your obsession with finding William? No, my friend, I think there’s something about the lovely duchess that holds your attention far more effectively than duty ever could.”

Leo stood abruptly, unwilling to hear more of Noah’s observations. “I should return home. The modiste will expect approval on her selections.”

Noah stood as well though his expression remained speculative. “Of course. Give my regards to your duchess. And Leo?” He placed a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “Sometimes fate gives us exactly what we need, even when it’s not what we thought we wanted.”

Leo nodded stiffly, uncomfortable with the philosophical turn. “Good day, Blytheton.”

As his carriage rolled through London’s busy streets toward Berkeley Square, Leo found himself considering Noah’s parting words despite his determination to dismiss them.

He had married Marina to solve a problem—to protect his reputation and to save her from ruin.

It was a practical solution, nothing more.

Leo stared out the carriage window, lost in thought. He hadn’t expected to be this eager to see Marina again. Sure, he wanted her—she was beautiful, spirited, and he sensed a passion beneath her calm exterior. Attraction was easy, especially given their circumstances.

But what surprised him was how much he genuinely enjoyed her company. He missed the easy conversation they’d shared over dinner, even if it had ended awkwardly. Her quick mind, her subtle humor—those were things he hadn’t counted on liking so much.

As the carriage rolled toward home, Leo realized it wasn’t just physical attraction drawing him back—it was curiosity, too. He found himself wanting to uncover more of the woman beneath her careful composure, even if he wasn’t quite ready to admit it.

The carriage rolled to a stop.

Perhaps Noah was right. Perhaps fate had given him exactly what he needed, even if it came in a most unexpected package—a widow with a talent for scandalous prose and eyes that haunted his thoughts.