Page 34 of Wedded to the Duke of Sin (Dukes of Passion #2)
CHAPTER 34
“ I say, Ashthorne, you look positively morose for a man recently married to one of the Season’s most charming ladies.” Viscount Seymour settled uninvited into the chair opposite Dorian at White’s. “Though I must say, your duchess has quite changed since your wedding. Quite the diamond of the first water now.”
Dorian’s fingers tightened around his glass of brandy. “Marriage has a way of changing people, doesn’t it?”
The Viscount blinked at his flat tone. “Er… yes, quite. Though in Her Grace’s case… that is…” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I merely meant to offer congratulations on how well she’s adjusted to her role.”
“Has she?” Dorian’s voice held an edge that made him shift uncomfortably in his seat. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Right. Well.” Seymour stood up hastily. “I’ll just… Good day, Your Grace.”
As the Viscount beat a strategic retreat, Dorian shook his head at his dark mood.
You’re becoming exactly what you feared—a shadow over her light. Just like your father cast a shadow over everything he touched.
The brandy burned down his throat, doing nothing to quiet his thoughts.
She deserves better than a husband haunted by ghosts and hunted by enemies. Better than someone who can’t even keep his own friend safe.
“Your Grace.” Treyfield’s oily voice interrupted his brooding. “Might I join you? It’s been far too long since we had a proper chat.”
Dorian didn’t bother looking up. “I have nothing to say to you.”
“Come now.” Treyfield settled into the recently vacated chair, his tone almost paternal. “We’re both men of the world. Surely, we can put aside our… misunderstandings. For Lawrence’s sake, if nothing else.”
That got Dorian’s attention. “Don’t speak his name.”
“My dear nephew,” Treyfield sighed heavily. “Such a tragic loss. Though between us,” he leaned forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially, “I have often wondered if he confessed certain… indiscretions to you. As his closest friend.”
“If you’re fishing for gossip, try the ladies’ drawing room.”
“Not gossip, Your Grace. Family concerns.” Treyfield’s eyes gleamed with something that made Dorian’s skin crawl. “After all, your lovely Duchess must understand the importance of family connections. Such a devoted sister she is—willing to do anything to protect her brother’s interests.”
The threat, though veiled, made Dorian’s blood run cold. “Are you threatening my wife, Treyfield?”
“Threatening? My dear boy, I’m merely making conversation.” Treyfield’s smile turned sharp. “Though it would be unfortunate if certain rumors about her hasty marriage were to resurface. Society can be so unforgiving of scandal.”
This is why you should have kept your distance . Everyone you care for becomes a target.
“I’ll say this once.” Dorian’s voice could have frozen brandy. “If you so much as cast a shadow in my wife’s direction?—.”
“Such drama.” Treyfield stood up, brushing invisible lint from his coat. “I merely thought, given your obvious affection for the lady, that you might wish to protect her from any… unpleasantness. A word about Lawrence’s activities before his death would ensure her continued social success.”
As Treyfield sauntered away, Dorian felt the walls closing in on him. He’d been a fool to think that he could have both—justice for Lawrence and happiness with Alice. Now, his enemies would use her against him, just as they’d use Sarah if they found her.
You have to protect her . Even if it means pushing her away. Better a cold marriage than a ruined life.
The brandy in his glass caught the afternoon light, reminding him of how the sun brought out the copper in Alice’s hair. He’d have to forget such observations. Forget the way she felt in his arms, the sound of her laughter, the fierce intelligence in her green eyes.
Distance . It’s the only way to keep her safe.
But even as he steeled his resolve, his heart rebelled at the thought of losing the warmth she’d brought to his life. Still, he was his father’s son, after all—duty must come before desire, regardless of the cost.
The lamps along Berkeley Square were being lit when Dorian arrived at Gregory’s townhouse, the spring evening settling into dusk. His friend’s butler was surprised at his unexpected visit but ushered him into the smoking room, where Gregory was going through his evening correspondence.
“Dorian?” Gregory set aside his letters, studying his friend’s face with growing concern. “I thought you’d be at home with your Duchess.”
“I needed…” Dorian accepted the glass of brandy Gregory offered without asking. “I needed perspective.”
The smoking room was appointed exactly as Gregory would want—leather chairs worn to perfect comfort, shelves lined with leather-bound books that showed signs of use, and a faint lingering scent of his preferred Turkish tobacco.
“Perspective.” Gregory settled into his favorite chair. “About what’s troubling you enough to seek me out at this hour?”
Dorian paced before the fireplace, the crystal tumbler forgotten in his hand. “Treyfield approached me at White’s today.”
“Ah.” Gregory’s expression darkened. “What new threats did our friend make?”
“He mentioned Alice.” Dorian’s voice roughened. “Implied that her reputation might suffer if I didn’t give him information about Lawrence.”
“He’s growing desperate, then.” Gregory leaned forward. “To threaten a duchess so openly?—”
“He was careful to make it seem like concern.” Dorian finally dropped into a chair and rubbed a hand over his face. “Talking about family connections and social success. But the threat was clear enough.”
“And now you’re planning something noble and self-sacrificing, aren’t you?” Gregory’s voice held equal parts affection and exasperation. “I know that look, Dorian. It’s the same one you wore at Cambridge when you took the blame for that incident with the Dean’s prized roses.”
“This is hardly comparable to university pranks.” Dorian’s lips twitched despite himself. “Alice deserves better than to be caught in the crossfire of my vendetta.”
“Alice deserves to make her own choices.” Gregory’s voice softened. “Have you considered that she might be stronger than you give her credit for?”
“Strong?” Dorian let out a hollow laugh. “She’s the strongest person I know. That’s precisely the problem. She’d face down Treyfield by herself if she thought it would protect those she cares about.”
“Like someone else I know.” Gregory studied him over his glass. “You’re more alike than you realize.”
“Which is exactly why I have to protect her.” Dorian stood up again, unable to sit still. “You didn’t see her at the wedding breakfast, Gregory. The way she handled the ton’s expectations with such grace. She deserves that life—parties and social calls and all the normal concerns of a duchess. Not… not this darkness I’ve brought to her door.”
“The darkness was there before you married her,” Gregory pointed out. “Or have you forgotten how you met? She was already fighting her own battles.”
“That was different.”
“Was it?” Gregory set down his glass. “She went into a brothel alone to save her brother. She faced down Society’s censure with her head held high. And now you think she needs to be shielded from the truth?”
“I think,” Dorian said quietly, “that I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to her because of me.”
Understanding dawned in Gregory’s eyes. “Good God. You’re in love with her.”
“Don’t.”
“You are.” Gregory leaned back, a smile playing on his lips. “The mighty Duke of Ashthorne, brought low by Cupid’s arrow. No wonder you’re in such a state.”
“This isn’t amusing.”
“On the contrary, it’s highly amusing.” Gregory’s voice softened. “And completely terrifying, isn’t it? To realize that you’ve given someone that much power over your happiness?”
Dorian sank back into his chair, the fight leaving him. “I never meant for this to happen.”
“Of course not. Love rarely asks permission before it sneaks up on you.” Gregory refilled their glasses. “The question is, what are you going to do about it?”
“The only thing I can do.” Dorian stared into his brandy as if it held the answers to all his questions. “Keep her at arm’s length until this business with Treyfield is finished.”
“And you think that won’t hurt her more than any threat Treyfield could make?”
“Better a temporary hurt than permanent damage.” But even as he said the words, Dorian remembered how Alice had looked at him in the carriage after the wedding breakfast—concerned, confused by his withdrawal. “I have to protect her, Gregory. Even from myself.”
“You sound exactly like your father.”
The words hit Dorian like a physical blow. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.” Gregory’s voice held no accusation, only sadness. “Always putting duty before happiness. Always sacrificing happiness in the name of protection. How did that work out for your mother?”
“That’s different?—”
“Is it?” Gregory stood up and moved to the fireplace. “Your father thought he was protecting your mother too. Keeping her separate from the uglier aspects of his position. All he did was make her feel alone in her own home.”
Dorian’s hands clenched around the arms of his chair. “I am not my father.”
“Then prove it.” Gregory turned to face him. “Trust Alice with the truth. Trust her to be strong enough to stand beside you, not behind your protection.”
“And if she gets hurt?”
“Then you’ll face that together.” Gregory’s smile turned wry. “Though from what I’ve seen of your Duchess, she’s more likely to march straight to Treyfield’s door and demand satisfaction herself.”
That was so perfectly Alice that Dorian couldn’t help but laugh, though the sound was devoid of mirth. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”
“Good.” Gregory returned to his seat. “Fear means that you understand what you stand to lose. The question is, are you more afraid of losing her to Treyfield’s schemes, or your stubborn pride?”
Dorian had no answer for that. He thought of Alice’s smile, of how she faced every challenge with that indomitable spirit that had first drawn him to her. The way she’d stood up to the ton’s gossips just today, refusing to succumb to their petty cruelty.
I love her , he realized with a clarity that terrified him. God help me, I love her more than my own life.
But that was precisely why he had to protect her, wasn’t it? Even if it meant protecting her from his own heart.