Page 34 of Wedded to the Duke of Seduction (Dukes of Passion #3)

CHAPTER 34

“ T hat’s not fair,” Marina said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I had no way of knowing about Felicity’s gifts to you.”

Leo watched her face—the hurt in her eyes, the slight tremble of her lower lip—and tried to force back the toxic thoughts poisoning his mind. The rational part of him knew she was telling the truth. Henderson had no reason to mention Felicity’s habit of giving him Breguet watches at key moments in their relationship.

And yet the watch box in his hand felt like a burning brand, searing through the careful defenses he had constructed since that night in the garden a decade ago.

“Of course,” he heard himself say, his voice sounding distant to his own ears. “It’s a beautiful timepiece. Thank you.”

The words were automatic, a social facade concealing the underlying chaos. Unable to bear its weight, he carefully placed the watch on the mantelpiece.

Marina took a tentative step towards him. “Leo, if I’ve upset you?—”

“Not at all.” He managed a smile that felt more like a grimace. “It was… thoughtful.”

The hurt in her eyes deepened, joined now by confusion. She wasn’t fooled by his performance but seemed unwilling to challenge it directly. “Dinner will be served soon. Should I ask Henderson to delay it?”

“No need.” Leo moved to his desk, putting physical distance between them. “I’ll join you shortly.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Marina nodded and withdrew, closing the door softly behind her. It was only then that Leo slumped in his chair, his mind racing with troubling comparisons.

Felicity had given him his first Breguet after their third dinner together—an outrageously expensive gift that had both flattered and discomfited him. Later, she had presented him with another when he confronted her about a flirtation with Lord Pendleton. A third had appeared when he’d grown suspicious of her increasing interest in William.

Each timepiece had been exquisite. Each had been strategically timed to disarm his doubts or secure his forgiveness. Each demonstrated her unsettling knack for recognizing and using his vulnerabilities.

And now, Marina echoed this pattern.

Leo’s hand shook as he reached for the brandy decanter on his desk. The logical part of his mind argued that this was mere coincidence, but the wounded part of him, the part that had spent a decade hunting the brother and lover who had betrayed him, whispered darker possibilities.

What if Henderson had been more forthcoming than Marina admitted? What if she had deliberately chosen a gift designed to remind him of Felicity? What if this was the opening move in some new deception?

He downed the brandy in a single swallow, struggling to quiet these thoughts. Marina wasn’t Felicity. Their circumstances were entirely different. She had married him for protection, not social advancement. She had no reason to manipulate him.

Except…

Except that her position had improved dramatically since their marriage. Her writing was flourishing under Pritchard’s honest management. The ton had embraced her as the Duchess of Blackmere, forgetting their previous condemnation of the scandalous widow. She was no longer dependent on him as she had been when Giles threatened her.

What if she had decided she no longer needed his protection? What if, like Felicity, she had found someone else who better suited her desires?

The dinner bell rang, forcing Leo to compose himself. He could not miss the meal without raising questions he wasn’t prepared to answer. Straightening his cravat, he took a deep breath and moved toward the door, leaving the watch on the mantel rather than in his pocket.

Dinner passed in a fog of strained politeness. Leo ate without tasting the food and responded to Marina’s attempts at conversation without fully registering her words. He was aware of her growing concern, reflected in the furrow between her brows and the way she toyed with her food rather than eating it, but he couldn’t breach the sudden chasm that had opened between them.

It was safer this way, he told himself. Distance was protection against the pain of eventual betrayal. He had dropped his guard too quickly, allowed himself to develop feelings that went beyond their practical arrangement. This watch—this echo of Felicity—was a timely reminder of the risks of emotional entanglement.

When Marina suggested retiring to the library after dinner, as had become their custom, Leo found himself making excuses.

“I have correspondence that requires my attention,” he said, avoiding her direct gaze. “Business matters I’ve neglected.”

“Of course.” Marina’s voice was carefully neutral, but her hands twisted in her lap, betraying her distress. “Perhaps tomorrow night, then.”

“Perhaps.” Leo stood, grateful for the formality that allowed him to bow and withdraw without further explanation.

In the days that followed, Leo maintained the same careful distance. He fulfilled his duties as host and husband in public, escorting Marina to social functions with impeccable courtesy. But the easy intimacy they had developed—the shared laughter, the quiet conversations by the fire, the passionate nights in his bed—all were replaced by a polite facade that grew more brittle with each passing day.

He told himself it was necessary. That by withdrawing now, he was sparing them both the greater pain that would come when history inevitably repeated itself. Yet each night, alone in his bed, he ached for her presence, remembering the softness of her skin, the trust in her eyes when she yielded to his touch, the way she spoke his name in moments of passion.

A week after the watch incident, Leo paced his study like a caged animal. Noah had commented on his black mood that afternoon at their club, and even Dorian had sent a note inquiring about his health. Apparently, his attempt to mask his inner turmoil was failing.

The knock that came at his study door was tentative but determined. He knew before it opened that Marina had finally decided to confront him.

“May I speak with you?” she asked, entering when he called permission. The simple gown she wore reminded him of the widow he had first encountered rather than the confident duchess of recent weeks. The regression sent a pang through his chest.

“Of course.” Leo gestured to a chair, but Marina remained standing, her spine straight and her chin lifted in a familiar show of courage.

“Something has changed between us,” she said without preamble. “Since the watch, you’ve been distant. If I’ve offended you somehow, I’d rather know directly than continue this charade of politeness.”

Her bluntness caught him off guard. He’d braced himself for accusations, maybe tears, but not this directness. “I’ve been preoccupied with business matters,” he offered, the excuse sounding hollow even to his own ears.

Marina shook her head. “We both know that isn’t true. You’ve deliberately withdrawn from me, and I need to understand why.”

Leo turned away, moving to the window to avoid meeting her gaze. “I think we may have been overly optimistic about our arrangement,” he said finally. “There are… complications I hadn’t expected.”

“Complications?” Marina moved closer though she stopped several feet away, respecting the invisible barrier he had erected between them. “You mean feelings.”

The word hung in the air between them, dangerous and undeniable. Leo’s hands clenched at his sides. “Whatever has developed between us was never part of our agreement.”

“Agreements can change,” Marina replied, her voice softening. “People change. I’m not the same woman who married you for protection, and you’re not the same man who only wanted to stop my stories.”

Leo closed his eyes briefly, fighting the pull of her words. “Perhaps that’s precisely the problem. We’ve strayed too far from our original purpose.”

“And that frightens you,” Marina observed, the quiet insight striking closer to home than he would have liked. “Why? What are you afraid of, Leo?”

He turned to face her, anger flaring to cover his vulnerability. “I’m not afraid. I’m being realistic. Our marriage was never meant to be a love match.”

Marina flinched as if he’d struck her but recovered quickly. “Then what was it meant to be? A business transaction? A convenient solution to mutual problems? Because it’s become something more, whether or not you’re willing to admit it.”

“And if it has?” Leo challenged. “What then? We continue this entanglement until one of us inevitably becomes disenchanted? Until you decide you no longer need my protection or my name?”

Understanding dawned in Marina’s eyes. “This isn’t about the watch at all, is it? This is about Felicity.”

The name fell between them like a stone. Leo felt his jaw tighten. “This has nothing to do with her.”

“It has everything to do with her,” Marina countered. “You think I’m going to betray you like she did. That I’ll leave you for someone else or for my own ambitions.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Leo snapped though her accuracy was like a blade between his ribs.

“Don’t I?” Marina stepped closer, her gaze holding his with fierce intensity. “I’ve given you everything, Leo. My body, my trust, pieces of myself I’ve shared with no one else. Yet, you hold parts of yourself back, keeping them locked away where I can’t reach them.”

Leo felt the walls he’d built crumbling under her direct assault. “Marina?—”

“No,” she interrupted, her voice rising with emotion. “I won’t live this way anymore. You can have all of me, Leo, but you refuse to let me in. I can’t keep existing in halves! Half a wife, half a partner, loving a man who won’t let himself be loved.”

The word “loving” struck Leo like a physical blow. He took a step back, his defenses slamming into place. “I never asked for your love,” he said, the words harsh even to his own ears. “Our arrangement has always been clear.”

Marina went pale, but her gaze remained steady. “Yes, you’ve made that abundantly clear. You want my body but not my heart. My presence but not my love. My submission but not my partnership.”

“That’s not—” Leo began then stopped. Wasn’t that exactly what he was doing? Retreating to the safety of their original arrangement rather than risking the vulnerability of deeper connection?

“I can’t give you what you’re asking for,” he said finally, his voice cold despite the turmoil within. “I thought I could, but I was wrong.”

Marina stared at him for a long moment, her blue eyes bright with unshed tears. Then she nodded once, a sharp movement that conveyed more than words could express.

“Then there’s nothing more to be said,” she replied, her voice barely audible. “I’ll move my things back to my own chambers tonight.”

As she turned to leave, Leo fought the desperate urge to call her back, to explain the fear that gripped him, to confess that his withdrawal came not from indifference but from terrifying depth of feeling. But the words refused to come, trapped behind the wall of self-protection he had spent a decade building.

The door closed softly behind her, the quiet click more devastating than any slam could have been. Leo stood motionless in the center of his study, the emptiness of the room suddenly unbearable.

He had driven her away to protect himself from the pain of potential betrayal, only to inflict a more immediate and certain pain on them both. In his determination to avoid Felicity’s path, he had created a self-fulfilling prophecy, pushing Marina away before she could leave him.

The irony would have been amusing if it weren’t so agonizing.

Leo poured more brandy, his hand shaking. Noah was right. He’d ruined the best thing in his life because he couldn’t trust his own heart.

His eyes caught the gold watch still sitting on the mantel where he’d left it a week ago. Marina’s gift gleamed in the firelight, a reminder of what he’d thrown away.

Too late he realized his mistake. Running from the past, he’d created a new loss all on his own.

Leo set down his untouched drink. The study walls pressed in on him. He couldn’t stay here knowing Marina was removing her things from his bedroom, wiping away all traces of their happiness.

He yanked the bell cord. Henderson appeared instantly, his face neutral despite surely knowing about the rift between his master and mistress.

“Have my valise packed,” Leo instructed. “I’ll be staying with Lord Crawford for a few days.”

If Henderson was surprised by this announcement, he gave no sign beyond a slight raising of his eyebrows. “Very good, Your Grace. Shall I inform Her Grace of your departure?”

“No.” Leo turned away, unable to bear the quiet judgment in his butler’s eyes. “She knows all she needs to know.”

Twenty minutes later, Leo’s carriage pulled up before Noah’s townhouse on St. James’s Street. The hour was late enough that his arrival caused a stir among the servants, but Noah himself greeted Leo with remarkably little surprise.

“I wondered when you’d appear on my doorstep,” Noah said, leading the way to his study where a fire still burned. “Thompson, bring another glass and leave the decanter.”

Once they were alone, Noah’s facade of casual welcome dropped. “What have you done?” he asked bluntly, studying Leo’s haggard face. “You look like hell.”

“Marina and I have agreed to separate,” Leo replied, the words like ashes in his mouth.

Noah’s expression shifted from concern to exasperation. “Agreed? Or did you drive her away because you’re too bloody stubborn to admit you care for her?”

Leo didn’t answer which was answer enough. Noah shook his head, pouring them both generous measures of brandy.

“You’re a fool,” he said though his voice held more resignation than judgment. “A predictable one but still a fool.”

“Are you going to offer me a bed for the night, or should I find lodgings elsewhere?” Leo asked, too exhausted for his friend’s insights.

Noah sighed. “You know you’re welcome here for as long as you need. Though I reserve the right to tell you exactly how stupid you’re being at regular intervals.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” Leo replied, accepting the brandy with a nod of thanks.

Later, lying in Noah’s guest chamber, Leo stared at the unfamiliar ceiling and acknowledged the bitter truth. He hadn’t left his house to give Marina space or even to escape the awkwardness of their situation. He had fled because he could not bear to witness the pain he had caused.

Sleep, when it finally came, brought no peace. It brought dreams of Marina walking away while he stood frozen, unable to call her back.