Page 42 of The Duke’s Rejected Mate

“It sounds quite delightful,” I reply though I honestly heard no description.

“I see.” His voice is soft and even, without a trace of enthusiasm. “You can, of course, make certain parts your own. It does so long for a woman’s touch.”

“Then I shall be happy to oblige, but I’m sure the current state is fair enough for me.”

He continues to look at me, blinking a bit as if he doesn’t quite understand me. “And you don’t mind it?”

Bollocks. I fear as though he’s catching me so expertly in the lie I weave around me. “All I need is hearth and home. Nothing else really matters.”

This time, he looks out over the horses as he slaps the reins against their backs again. “I see.”

I look away, glancing across the field as a child chases a dog. My mind instantly drifts back to Thomas. He felt so perfect in my arms. How I would love to have one of my own. I’m just not sure I’d want one with Henhaven. Not that he’ll give me much of a choice. Though demure in his speech, he is an Alpha after all.

“Would you like one?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts.

“A child?” I sputter, unsure of the nature of his question.

He tilts his head back and laughs. The throaty sound drips from his lips to wrap around me. It’s much higher in pitch than Charles’s, but somehow still oddly soothing. Just like his purr. If one had to marry a stranger, I guess I could do worse than Henhaven.

“A dog,” he chuckles. “I am sure we can wait on the children until we know each other much better.”

That’s a relief at least. “A dog might be nice, but I have no knowledge of how to raise one.”

“Such things are easily remedied.” His lips take on a secretive smirk as he brings the horses around to head back toward the dowager duchess’s town house.

Whatever could he have planned?

Chapter 20

Charles

Wednesday

My Despondent Duke Dwelling in the Doldrums,

How fare you?

Less than two weeks and your love will be forever taken from you. Will you intervene? Will you make some mad declaration that will embarrass you and your family? Even now I see that your brother has made it his occupation to be at your mother’s house far more than he used to. Can it be he keeps you from her yet again?

Such sorrow to be had. Such delicious suffering. I cannot wait to see your beautiful bride walk down the aisle. Only… she will not be your bride then, will she?

Your Rosy Thorn in Your Side

Insanity eats at my brain, plaguing me as I read and reread the letter. Who on earth can this be? How have we not found them yet? A growl simmers under my breath as I rip it up and toss it into the fire where it belongs.

It must be someone so happy to see me brought low. Only who have I wronged? Who could be so pleased to see me in such a state? I stare at the flames as the paper curls in on itself before turning to ash.

Could it be Lewis after all? He knows so much about me. Hell, he is, in fact, thwarting me every chance he can so that I am not alone with Cynthia unless under the cover of darkness.

Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he eventually put the pieces together and showed up, unannounced, at the servants’ entrance to keep me from seeing my precious obsession.

No.

I quarrel with myself as I pace my study. My brother may be many things, but I don’t see him going so far as to write me letters reveling in my misery. No. It has to be someone else. But then who?

As I sit back in my chair and shuffle through the few reports I’ve gotten thus far, I shake my head. Nothing. A whole lot of nothing.

An odd tightness spreads through my chest as I leave the town house and head to White’s. At the very least, I can keep a close eye on the betting ledger and see if anyone slips in their penmanship.