Page 33 of Wedded to the Duke of Seduction (Dukes of Passion #3)

CHAPTER 33

“ I believe I’ll walk to Bond Street this morning, Betty,” Marina said, adjusting her bonnet in the mirror. “Mrs. Wentworth mentioned a new shipment of French ribbons that would complement my green day dress perfectly.”

Betty looked up from where she was arranging Marina’s shawls in the wardrobe. “Shall I call accompany you, Your Grace?”

“No, thank you, Betty.” Marina reached for her gloves, trying to dismiss the strange disquiet that had followed her since the previous evening.

“His Grace might not approve of you walking alone,” Betty said hesitantly.

Marina paused, considering her maid’s concern. Leo had been oddly distant at breakfast, polite but watchful in a way that made her uncomfortable. While they ate, his intense gaze made her feel like he was appraising her, not admiring her.

“His Grace has business with his solicitor this morning,” Marina replied, forcing lightness into her tone. “What he doesn’t know won’t trouble him. Besides, I’ll take Thomas with me.”

The young footman would provide a suitable escort without the carriage. Marina needed space to think, to understand what had changed between them.

Just yesterday, Leo had been supportive of her writing, offering to deliver her manuscript personally. His praise had seemed genuine, and his kiss afterward passionate. Yet by dinner, something had shifted—a coolness had crept into his manner, and there was a distance she couldn’t explain.

“Is everything all right between you and His Grace?” Betty asked, her loyalty to Marina overcoming her usual discretion.

Marina sighed, sinking onto the edge of her bed. “I’m not entirely sure. Something’s changed, but I don’t know what.”

“Men can be strange creatures,” Betty offered with the wisdom of her twenty years. “My mother always said they’re like weather in April. Sunshine one moment, storms the next, with no warning in between.”

Marina smiled despite her concern. “An accurate comparison. Well, I won’t solve the mystery sitting here. I’ll return before lunch.”

As she descended the stairs, Marina paused in the corridor that led to her private writing room. Something felt wrong, but she couldn’t immediately identify what. Pushing open the door, she looked around the familiar space—the writing desk positioned to catch the morning light, the bookshelves filled with her favorite volumes, the comfortable chair where she often sat to read.

The book she’d been reading yesterday, a collection of poetry Leo had given her, lay on the desk rather than on the side table where she distinctly remembered leaving it. Marina frowned, crossing to examine it. Had a maid moved it while dusting? But the household staff knew not to disturb her papers or books.

She picked up the volume and opened it to where her ribbon bookmark lay. Nothing seemed changed, but something still troubled her. This wasn’t the first such incident in recent days. Last week, she’d found her desk drawer slightly open though she always kept it locked. Two days ago, her journal had been moved from beneath her blotter to beside it.

Small things, easily attributed to forgetfulness or the minor carelessness of the servants. Yet considered together, they created a pattern that raised the fine hairs on her neck.

Marina shook off the feeling and returned the book to the side table. She was being fanciful, allowing Leo’s strange mood to color her perception of ordinary occurrences.

With Thomas following at a respectable distance, Marina stepped out into the spring sunshine. The warm May morning had drawn many fashionable Londoners onto the streets, and she nodded to several acquaintances as she made her way toward Bond Street’s elegant shops.

“Marina!” Caroline’s delighted voice called from across the street. Her friend waved enthusiastically before navigating the crossing to join her. “What a lovely surprise! I was just about to call on you.”

“I decided to walk to Madame Delarue’s for some ribbons,” Marina explained, linking arms with Caroline. “Will you join me?”

“Happily. I’ve been meaning to look at her new laces, too.” Caroline studied Marina’s face with concern. “You seem troubled. Is everything well?”

Marina hesitated, unwilling to voice her vague concerns yet needing her friend’s perspective. “Leo has been different since yesterday. Distant somehow, but I can’t pinpoint why.”

“Men are rarely as inscrutable as they believe themselves to be,” Caroline said as they continued walking. “Was there a reason for this shift?”

“Nothing I can think of. He seemed perfectly happy when he left to deliver my manuscript to the printer.” Marina frowned, recalling the shift in his demeanor upon his return. “But by dinner, he was watching me with a…strange intensity. Almost as if he were looking for something.”

Caroline squeezed her arm sympathetically. “Maybe something happened during his afternoon out that troubled him. Have you asked him?”

“He said it was merely business concerns,” Marina replied. “But I know him well enough now to recognize when he’s being less than forthright.”

They let a carriage pass, and Marina felt a sudden sensation of being watched. Glancing across the street, she caught sight of a blonde woman in an elegant blue pelisse, staring directly at her with an unsettling intensity. The woman’s face wasn’t visible beneath her fashionable bonnet, but something in her posture sent a chill through Marina.

When the carriage passed, the woman was gone, leaving Marina wondering if she’d imagined the entire encounter.

“Did you see that woman?” she asked Caroline, searching the crowd.

“Which woman?”

“In the blue pelisse across the street. She was watching us.”

Caroline looked puzzled. “I didn’t notice anyone in particular. The streets are rather crowded today.”

Marina shook her head and dismissed the incident. “It’s nothing. My imagination is overactive lately.”

They continued to Madame Delarue’s shop where the promised ribbons and laces provided a welcome distraction. As Marina selected several lengths in soft greens and blues, her thoughts returned to Leo’s strange behavior and the uneasy sense of being watched.

“Your latest story has caused quite a sensation,” Caroline remarked as they examined a display of silk flowers. “Lady Jersey invited me to tea specifically to discuss it. She claims the sea captain’s longing for his lost love moved her to tears.”

Marina smiled, pleased by the reception of her work. “It’s different from my earlier stories.”

“Yes, and it’s even more moving because of that,” Caroline agreed. “There’s a depth of emotion that speaks to the heart rather than… other areas.” She raised a suggestive eyebrow that made Marina laugh despite her troubled thoughts.

“Perhaps I’m maturing as a writer,” Marina said.

“Maybe your own life is influencing your work in new ways?” Caroline suggested thoughtfully. “Your marriage may have begun as an arrangement, but it’s clearly grown into something more meaningful.”

Marina couldn’t deny the truth of her friend’s observation. Her feelings for Leo had deepened from reluctant attraction to genuine affection and respect and yes, something that increasingly resembled love though she hesitated to say it.

Which made his sudden withdrawal even more painful and confusing.

After completing their purchases, the women parted ways, Caroline to continue her shopping and Marina to return home. As Thomas fell into step behind her, Marina scanned the crowds more carefully, half-expecting to glimpse the blonde woman again.

Instead, her attention was caught by a different figure—a man in a dark coat, partially concealed in the doorway of a coffee house, his hat pulled low over his eyes. Something in his posture suggested he was watching rather than merely waiting.

Marina quickened her pace, turning down Brook Street rather than continuing along the more direct route. The footman followed, his expression concerned.

“Is everything all right, Your Grace?” he asked, moving closer as they left the busier thoroughfare.

“Yes, Thomas,” Marina replied with more confidence than she felt. “I merely remembered I wanted to stop at the bookshop on Curzon Street.”

She glanced back as they turned the corner and was relieved to see no sign of the man in the dark coat. Perhaps she truly was allowing her imagination to run wild, influenced by Leo’s uncharacteristic behavior and her own unsettled thoughts.

At the bookshop, Marina browsed without really seeing the volumes before her, her mind preoccupied with the morning’s strange occurrences. The displaced book in her study, the woman in blue, the watchful man—individually, each could be easily explained away. The pattern they formed was too striking to ignore.

By the time she returned to Berkeley Square, Marina had resolved to speak to Leo about her concerns, both regarding his changed demeanor and the unsettling sense of being watched. Their relationship had moved past the stage of polite avoidance.

As she entered the house, Henderson informed her that the Duke had not yet returned from his meeting. Marina nodded, handing over her bonnet and gloves before making her way to her writing room. Perhaps she could capture some of her turbulent thoughts on paper while waiting for Leo’s return.

The door to her writing room stood slightly ajar though she distinctly remembered closing it before leaving. Marina slowly pushed it open and surveyed the space with renewed wariness.

Nothing seemed obviously disturbed, yet the atmosphere felt different somehow. It was as if someone had recently occupied the room. Moving to her desk, she found her journal had been shifted slightly, and the pen she’d left uncapped was now placed in its holder.

Marina pulled open the drawer where she kept her most recent writing, and a cold certainty settled in her stomach. The pages were there, arranged as she’d left them, but the top sheet lay at a slightly different angle than the others, as if it had been lifted and replaced by careless hands.

Someone had been reading her private writings, not her published stories but the personal reflections she shared with no one. The intimate thoughts that included her growing feelings for Leo, her hopes for their future, her lingering fears of rejection.

Marina sank into her chair, questioning if the culprit was a servant, a stranger who had broken in, or someone familiar.

The thought that it might be Leo himself, perhaps seeking confirmation of her true feelings or evidence of deception, was too painful to consider.

Yet as she gathered the disturbed papers and secured them in a locked box she kept for her most private writings, Marina couldn’t shake the suspicion that the strange occurrences of recent days were connected to the change in Leo’s behavior.

Whatever was happening, whether someone was indeed watching her or simply her imagination was running wild, she needed to address the growing distance between herself and Leo. Perhaps what they needed was not confrontation but reconnection. After all Leo had done for her—protecting her from Giles, supporting her writing, sharing his painful past—she wanted to do something special to show her appreciation.

“Betty,” she called. “Could you ask Mr. Henderson to join me here for a moment?”

Though clearly curious about why he’d been called to the Duchess’ private rooms, the butler arrived with his usual dignified bearing.

“Your Grace requested my presence?”

Marina gestured for him to enter. “Yes, Henderson. I was hoping you might assist me with something of a personal nature.”

His expression remained perfectly neutral. “Of course, Your Grace.”

“I wish to give His Grace a gift,” Marina said. “Something that would hold meaning for him. You’ve served the Duke for many years, and I thought you might have insights into what he might appreciate.”

Henderson’s formal demeanor softened slightly. “That is most thoughtful of Your Grace. His Grace is not a man who easily expresses his preferences, but there are certain things he has valued over the years.”

Marina leaned forward eagerly. “Such as?”

The butler considered for a moment. “His Grace has always been partial to fine pocket watches. When he was younger, before his travels began, he kept a collection of them. I believe he found the precision of their mechanisms appealing.”

This was new information to Marina. She had never seen Leo with anything but the single gold watch he carried daily. “A watch collection? I’ve seen no evidence of this.”

“The collection was broken up after… some things happened,” Henderson said carefully. “His Grace retained only the watch that had belonged to his grandfather which he carries now.”

“I see.” Marina considered this. A pocket watch seemed a deeply personal gift, one that acknowledged Leo’s appreciation for craftsmanship and history. “Are there any particular watchmakers he favored?”

“Breguet,” Henderson replied without hesitation. “His Grace always admired their superior craftsmanship.”

“Thank you, Henderson,” Marina said, her mind already forming plans. “You’ve been most helpful.”

After the butler left, Marina jotted a note to her banker to withdraw the funds necessary for such a significant purchase. She had been saving her earnings from her writing, building a small reserve of independence. This seemed like a worthwhile use of those funds.

The following day, while Leo attended a meeting of the House of Lords, Marina visited the most prestigious jeweler in London. The proprietor greeted her with deference and ushered her into a private viewing room when she explained her purpose.

“A Breguet for His Grace? You show excellent taste, Your Grace,” the jeweler said as he presented several exquisite timepieces for her consideration.

Marina examined each one carefully before finally selecting a gold pocket watch with an engine-turned case and a white enamel dial. The watch featured a perpetual calendar and moon phase indicator, complications she knew would appeal to Leo’s appreciation for precision.

The price was extravagant and consumed most of her saved earnings, but Marina felt a glow of satisfaction as the jeweler packaged the watch in a leather presentation box. This was no mere trinket but a significant gift that reflected the depth of her gratitude.

She spent the afternoon composing a note to accompany the gift, discarding several drafts before settling on words that expressed her appreciation without venturing into declarations of emotion that might make Leo uncomfortable.

By evening, everything was ready. Marina arranged the wrapped box and note on Leo’s desk in his study where he would find it when he returned from his club. Then she retreated to her chambers to change for dinner, a flutter of anticipation in her stomach.

When Leo arrived home, Marina heard his voice in the entrance hall greeting Henderson. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she descended the stairs to meet him.

“Good evening,” she said, noting the weariness around his eyes. “Did your day go well?”

“Well enough,” Leo replied, but his smile did not quite reach his eyes. The distance she had sensed the previous day remained, even though he attempted to be cordial. “And yours?”

“Productive,” Marina answered, resisting the urge to mention the gift immediately. Better to let him discover it himself. “I believe Henderson has something to tell you.”

On cue, the butler stepped forward. “Your Grace, Lord Crawford sent word that he will call tomorrow regarding the matter you discussed.”

Leo nodded. “Thank you, Henderson. I’ll be in my study until dinner.”

As he turned toward his study door, Marina exchanged a quick glance with Henderson, who gave her an almost imperceptible nod. The butler had ensured the gift would be prominently placed where Leo couldn’t miss it.

“I’ll see you at dinner then,” Marina said, retreating to give Leo privacy for his discovery.

She paced her chambers nervously as Betty helped her dress for the evening. Would he be pleased? Would the gift help bridge whatever strange gap had opened between them?

A knock at her door interrupted her thoughts. “Enter,” she called, expecting it to be Betty returning with the jewelry she had requested.

Instead, Henderson stood at the threshold, his expression grave. “Your Grace, His Grace asks if you would join him in his study.”

Marina’s heart leaped. “Of course. Thank you, Henderson.”

She hurried down the corridor, eager to see Leo’s reaction to her gift. The study door stood ajar, and she pushed it open with a smile that faltered as she took in the scene before her.

Leo stood by the fireplace, the unwrapped watch box open in his hand. His face was pale, his expression not one of pleasure but something closer to shock. On the desk lay her note, apparently unread.

“Leo? Is something wrong?”

He looked up at her, his eyes dark with an emotion she couldn’t identify. “Where did you get this?”

The coldness in his voice sent a chill through her. “From Rundell and Bridge. I wanted to give you something special to thank you for?—”

“Who told you about the watches?” he interrupted, his knuckles white against the leather box.

“Henderson mentioned you once collected them,” Marina replied, confusion mounting. “He thought you might appreciate a fine example from Breguet?—”

Leo snapped the box closed, the sound sharp in the silent room. “Did he also tell you that Felicity gave me my first Breguet watch? That it was her signature gift whenever she sought to win my favor or apologize for some transgression?”

Marina’s stomach dropped. “No. Of course not. I didn’t know.”

He placed the box carefully on the mantel, his movements controlled in a way that suggested he was holding powerful emotions in check. “A remarkable coincidence.”

“It’s not a coincidence,” Marina protested, taking a step toward him. “It’s simply an unfortunate choice. If I had known?—”

“Known what?” Leo’s eyes met hers, searching. “That you were echoing the actions of the woman who betrayed me? Or that such a gift would make me question your motives?”