A hand slapped down on Fitz’s shoulder, and he jumped.
“Everything well with you, brother?” Felix asked. “You’ve been staring—and now scowling—at your wife’s bedchamber door for quite some time now.”
“I—I—”Come on, Fitz. Form words.
“You are working up the courage to bed your wife?” Felix arched a brow at him.
Fitz’s gaze darted from the dark-wood chamber door to his brother’s concerned visage, an understanding smile tilting Felix’s lips. This wasn’t exactly the best time for a supportive brotherly chat. Anothermanwas in that chamber with his wife.
Felix squeezed his shoulder. “I know it is easier said than done but try not to worry overmuch. To be frank, first times are often awkward. But I’ve seen the way she looks at you. Most wives don’t look at the husbandsthey choselike that. When someone looks at you like that? Regardless of if you hit some bumps along the way, you two will find your, ah…harmony.”
Fitz cocked his head as his brother’s words sank in. The way she looked at him? Athim? He looked around the hallway. Him, Fitz? Inept, stilted, and clumsy Fitz?
His brother chuckled and cuffed him on the shoulder. “Yes, you, brother. Your wife must find your nervousness charming. I hated that you were forced into this predicament. But I think, perhaps, this was actually a blessing in disguise.”
A blessing in disguise. Was his wife withDereka blessing in disguise?Shite, Derek. The man currently with your wife.
“Do you know anyone named Derek? A servant, perhaps?”
Felix’s chin jerked in, and he studied Fitz under scrunched amber brows. Yes, Fitz realized the timing of that question made him seem like he had gone mad. Which was exactly how Felix was looking at him.
“Not that I am aware of… The only Derek I know—and not well, I might add—is Roderick Blackwood, the Marquess of Dunmore.”
“Roderick Blackwood,” Fitz muttered, turning the name over in his mind. The Marquess of Dunmore.
“Are you sure you are well, brother?”
“Yes, yes,” Fitz said, distracted. He shot his brother a smile. “I am fine.” He inclined his head toward the door. “I should get to it.”
Felix chuckled and started walking backwards. “Good luck, Fitzy.” He turned and lifted a hand in farewell.
Fitz spun toward the door, hand reaching for the handle. Derek better be ready for a muzzler, because Fitz’s fist was about to greet the man’s face with a heartyhullo.
Oh God. Those were definitely moans coming from her chamber. Every muscle in his body went whipcord straight, and it wasn’t nerves. It was searing. Savage. Fury. If he had more presence of mind, he’d wonder where this possessive, primal rage had come from. But if another man touched her? The man was dead. Deceased. A corpse. Food for the worms. A growl ripped from him.Touch her, and I will strangle you with my bare hands.
He burst through the door and kicked it shut behind him.
“What the fu—” His roar died a quick death.
His wife screamed. And then scrambled to cover herself. He slapped a hand over his eyes and bolted out the door. Well, that had been his aim.
Thwack!
Urghhhh.
Right, he had kicked the blasted thing closed. He really needed to stop doing that. He rested his throbbing head against the very hard, very solid door. At least he hadn’t fallen on his arse this time.
Unfortunately, the pain distracted him for…well, not at all. Dear God. Dear Lord. Dear Almighty. Dear Mary, Joseph, Lazarus, and Barnabas. He swallowed and gulped and, blast and damn, he couldn’t breathe. He had just walked in on his wife. She was—Georgiana was—
“Fitz?” His wife’s small voice came from behind him.
“I must beg your pardon,” he said to the door, his voice strangled. His neck burned, fire racing up it to cover his face. “I sh-should have knocked. I-I promise it won’t happen again.”
“Fitz…”
But he was already out the door. He raced to his room nearly as fast as his brain raced in his head. His cock was hard as stone. Because—bloody hell—he had just walked in on his wife fucking herself with-with-with—with a sexual implement.How had she even procured one of those things? Sodding hell, that was the most erotic thing he had ever witnessed. Granted, Fitz wasn’t exactly a conjugal aficionado. He wanted to go back and ask her to continue, to let him watch. Until she came.
He groaned and slipped into his room, then walked up to his bed and fell flat on his face on the mattress.
