Page 24 of Wedded to the Duke of Seduction (Dukes of Passion #3)
CHAPTER 24
“ I s it true the latest story features a rather creative use of a plant mister in a moonlit conservatory?” Noah asked, his voice deliberately loud enough to be heard by the cluster of gentlemen at the next table. “I only ask because Lord Hatton has apparently ordered one for his wife’s birthday, despite neither of them showing any previous interest in horticulture.”
Leo took a measured sip of his brandy, keeping his expression neutral despite the warmth that spread through him at the memory of what had inspired Marina’s latest tale.
“I wouldn’t know. Unlike some people, I have better ways to occupy my time than reading anonymous fiction.”
“Pity,” Noah replied with a knowing smirk. “It’s surprisingly educational. The author has quite an… inventive mind.”
Gerard cleared his throat, casting a warning glance at Noah. “Perhaps we could discuss something more appropriate for mixed company?”
“Mixed company?” Noah looked around the gentlemen’s club with exaggerated confusion. “I see only four dissolute rogues enjoying an afternoon drink.”
“Some of us are reformed rogues,” Dorian corrected with a smile, raising his glass in a small toast. “The benefits of a good marriage.”
“Speaking of which,” Gerard turned to Leo, “how is your duchess?”
Leo felt three pairs of eyes fix on him with varying degrees of curiosity.
Since the Pembroke ball three nights ago, he had deliberately given Marina space, uncertain of how their encounter might have changed things between them. He’d expected her to pull away even more and keep up that cautious distance she’d maintained ever since their wedding. But instead, he’d noticed her watching him at breakfast, a curious glint in her eyes that sent a rush of heat through him.
“She seems to be settling in fine,” he answered cautiously.
“That’s it?” Noah leaned forward, clearly intrigued. “The ton is buzzing with speculation about your sudden marriage, and all you can offer is that she’s adapting well enough?”
Leo shrugged, unwilling to share the truth of his complicated feelings for Marina, even with his closest friends. “What would you have me say? That we spend our evenings reading poetry and discussing philosophy?”
“I’d settle for knowing if she makes you happy,” Gerard said quietly.
The unexpected question caught Leo off guard.
Happy? The word seemed inadequate to describe the tumult of emotions Marina stirred within him. Desire, certainly. Frustration, frequently. But beneath those simpler responses lay something more complex, something that had shifted since the night of the ball.
“She’s unexpected,” Leo finally answered, aware that his friends were watching him closely. “Marina isn’t like anyone I’ve known before.”
“High praise indeed from a man who’s known half the beauties of Europe,” Noah commented.
Dorian studied Leo thoughtfully. “Alice mentioned the Duchess seemed somewhat guarded at their literary gathering. Reserved though unfailingly polite. She thought perhaps the transition to marriage had been difficult.”
A pang of something uncomfortably like guilt struck Leo. Had Marina seemed unhappy to the Duchesses? The thought bothered him more than he cared to admit.
“Marina values her independence,” he explained. “Our arrangement allows her considerable freedom within the bounds of propriety.”
“Arrangement,” Gerard repeated, arching his brow. “Is that what we’re calling marriage these days?”
Leo felt a flicker of irritation. “Not all marriages begin as love matches as you well know. Some develop gradually.”
“And is yours developing?” Dorian asked bluntly.
Before Leo could answer, Noah interjected. “The new story circulating amongst the ton suggests someone’s relationship is certainly developing in interesting directions. The author seems to have found fresh inspiration lately.” He cast Leo a sly look. “Almost as if personal experience has replaced mere imagination.”
Leo fought back a smile as he remembered Marina’s surprise and surrender in his arms.
“Perhaps the author simply has a creative mind,” he replied, echoing Noah’s earlier words.
“Or maybe,” Noah continued, undeterred, “she’s discovered a more direct source of inspiration. Someone who knows exactly how to provoke the most… vivid reactions.”
“You seem unusually interested in this anonymous author, Crawford,” Gerard observed. “One might almost suspect a personal connection.”
Noah laughed. “Merely a literary appreciation, I assure you. Though I do wonder if our friend here might have more insight than he’s sharing.” He raised an eyebrow at Leo. “The latest story’s protagonists bear a striking resemblance to certain recently wed individuals of our acquaintance.”
Leo kept his composed expression despite the rush of satisfaction Noah’s words provoked. If Marina’s story so vividly depicted their encounter that even Noah recognized the shared experience, then their interlude must have left as profound an impact on her as it had on him.
“Pure coincidence, I’m sure,” Leo replied smoothly though he couldn’t quite suppress a small smile.
“Of course,” Noah agreed, his eyes twinkling. “Just as it’s coincidence that you’ve been in an unusually good mood these past few days, despite claiming to be frustrated by your ‘arrangement’ with the Duchess.”
Gerard leaned forward, his expression growing serious. “In all honesty, Leo, how is married life treating you? We’ve been concerned. The suddenness of it all…”
“I’m perfectly fine,” Leo assured him, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. “More than fine in fact.”
“And the Duchess?” Dorian pressed. “Is she happy?”
The question struck uncomfortably close to Leo’s own unacknowledged concerns. Was Marina happy? Their physical connection had been undeniable, but she remained guarded in so many ways, keeping parts of herself locked away from him just as he did with her.
“She seems content enough,” he replied carefully. “Though I’m hardly an expert on female happiness.”
“Perhaps you should ask her,” Gerard suggested mildly. “In my experience, wives appreciate being consulted about their own contentment.”
Leo frowned slightly. The idea of directly asking Marina about her happiness felt strangely intimidating, more vulnerable than even the intimacy they had shared at the ball.
“I’ll take it under advisement,” he said dryly, signaling to a passing servant for another round of drinks. “Now, can we discuss something other than my marriage? I hear Wellington is considering running for parliament.”
Leo’s friends accepted the change of subject though Noah kept shooting knowing looks his way for the rest of their gathering.
As his carriage rolled toward Berkeley Square, Leo found himself eager to see his wife.
Her stories with their passionate characters and vivid encounters revealed parts of Marina she carefully concealed in everyday life. Each story was a window into her inner desires, fantasies, and understanding of passion. Her latest work, clearly inspired by their encounter at the ball, hinted she’d felt their connection just as deeply as he had.
Still, Marina kept her distance, slipping away to her own chambers every night, despite the obvious attraction between them. Leo had respected those boundaries, letting her set the pace, but his patience was wearing thin. He’d glimpsed the woman beneath her carefully composed exterior, and he wanted more.
Tonight, he decided he’d try something different. Instead of chasing after her, he’d let Marina come to him. If Marina truly desired him as her story suggested, perhaps it was time she admitted it and not just on paper but in person.
With that resolution firmly in mind, Leo instructed his coachman to hurry home.
As Leo’s carriage pulled up to his townhouse, he scanned the windows for any sign of Marina. The eagerness he felt to see her was unfamiliar and somewhat disconcerting, but he didn’t bother to suppress it.
“Good evening, Your Grace,” Henderson greeted him as he handed off his hat and gloves. “I trust you had a pleasant afternoon.”
“Pleasant enough,” Leo replied, glancing toward the drawing room where Marina often spent her afternoons. “Is the Duchess at home?”
“I’m afraid not, Your Grace. Her Grace departed approximately two hours ago with the Duchess of Irondale.”
Leo felt an unexpected pang of disappointment. “Did she mention where they were going?”
“To Hatchard’s bookshop on Piccadilly, Your Grace. Her Grace mentioned that Her Grace, the Duchess of Irondale, wished to show her some recently arrived volumes from Paris.” Henderson’s face remained impassively professional despite the awkward repetition of titles. “I believe they intended to take a late tea afterward at Gunter’s.”
“I see.” Leo tried to keep his tone neutral though the news was oddly deflating. “Send word when the Duchess returns, would you?”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
Leo made his way to his study, his earlier anticipation fading into restlessness.
The once-welcoming space now felt confining and strangely empty. He poured a small brandy and sat down at his desk, facing a pile of letters which needed his attention.
Instead, Leo read the same paragraph three times without absorbing a word. His thoughts kept drifting to Marina—what books might she be selecting at Hatchard’s? Was she enjoying Seraphina’s company? Did she speak of him when he wasn’t present?
Marina would return eventually, and when she did, he would be waiting.
What happened after that would depend entirely on her.