Selina let go of her. “What else troubles you, Dee?”
She was a mind reader; Deena could never hide anything from her.
She sighed before she admitted the truth. “What if Austin goes back to his… rakish ways? What if he abandons me?”
Deena did not understand why it mattered at all if they were just marrying for convenience’s sake. But the thought of Austin being with someone else made her feel sick.
Selina smiled at her sweetly and said, “You never know, Dee. Austin might just surprise you.”
Twenty
Surely you do not believe that I am done?
I will stop at nothing to see you and your soon-to-be Duchess ruined.
The note shook in the solicitor’s hand as he read it, and Austin felt his face heat up with rage.
“I will have the investigator look into this.” Mr. Whitman, senior partner of Whitman, Harriet & Crowe, leaned back in the high-backed chair opposite Austin’s desk in the Windemere estate’s private study. He held the note up as he spoke.
“Make sure that you do. And what are your thoughts about this marriage?” Austin needed his wisdom now more than ever. The wedding was tomorrow, and Austin knew that everything was about to change. The question was whether it was for the better or the worse?
“I assure you, Your Grace, that this marriage is a masterstroke.”
Austin picked up and swirled the brandy in his glass but did not drink, his body and mind were on edge as he thought about Deena and her safety. “You sound relieved, Whitman.”
“I am relieved.” The solicitor tapped the stack of settlement drafts between them. “A union with Lady Deena, sister of the Duke of Greystone, granddaughter of the Dowager Duchess of Greystone, places you beyond the reach of most of the vultures who’ve been circling. The moment the banns are read tomorrow and the special license executed the day after, any serious inquiry into your parentage becomes an attack on two of the most respected families in England. Politically, it’s suicide. The Lords will drop the matter faster than a scalded cat.”
Austin’s mouth curved without humor. “And personally?”
Whitman’s expression gentled a fraction. “Personally… you have acquired a duchess who is already acquainted with scandal and therefore unlikely to be shocked by yours. That is no small thing.”
Austin stared into the amber liquid. He had not seen Deena since he left Greystone three nights ago.
Three nights. Seventy-two hours.
An absurdly short span of time, yet it felt like a year. He missed the way her nose crinkled when she laughed or lied, the flash oftemper in her green eyes when he teased her, the soft, surprised gasp she made when he kissed the hollow beneath her ear and left his marks on her fair body. He missed her voice, her scent, and the stubborn set of her chin when she was determined to argue with him.
So little time apart, and already he was half-mad with it.
He set the glass down harder than intended.
Whitman blinked. “Your Grace?”
Austin rubbed a hand over his face. “I apologize, Whitman. My mind has been everywhere all at once.”
“That’s quite all right, Your Grace. I have some paperwork for you to sign as per the agreement.” Whitman babbled on while Austin’s thoughts traveled back to Deena.
She’ll be in this house. In my bed. Every night and every morning.
The solicitor cleared his throat. “And the investigator, Your Grace?”
Austin grunted. “Yes, what about him?”
Whitman shifted in his chair. “He has a lead, but he needs more evidence.”
That piqued Austin’s interest.
“He has leads on the identity of the blackmailer?”
