Page 70 of The Duke's Only Desire

Her silence disagreed.

“Most likely, he simply wanted to terrify you into leaving and won’t carry through on his threats.”

Not easing her grip on his coat front, she lifted her head and gazed up at him soberly. “There’s more.”

Shay steeled himself.

“The only way he could have known what was happening at Ravenscroft was if he had a spy among the staff who reported to him. That’s how he knew we’d married in the first place. He claimed he’d heard rumors, but we were married too quickly for rumors to reach him all the way up here, and he wouldn’t haveknown we were at Ravenscroft and not in London.” She lowered her voice to a soft whisper, as if afraid someone was listening even then. “That’s how he knew we had finally shared a bed, too. Someone told him.”

“Pearson will find whoever it was and route them out. We can trust him.” He placed a tender kiss to her soft lips. “And each other.”

He expected her to melt against him the way she always did when he kissed her. But she didn’t. Instead, she remained just as stiff as before, and none of his reassurances seemed to bring her comfort.

He cupped the side of her face in his palm and tilted her lips up to his as his mouth fully claimed hers. “Sophie,” he murmured, kissing her again in an attempt to cajole from her the other worries she wasn’t sharing.

Yet she turned her face away and blinked rapidly to keep back the threatening tears. “I’ve thought of nothing for the past three days and nights but Malcolm’s threats and what they could do to us if he acts upon them.”

An ominous weight settled on his chest.

“And I think…we have no choice but to sacrifice our marriage.”

His heart stopped, and an icy coldness swept over him that was worse than the blistery frigid night outside. “No.”

“He’s alleging murder, and everyone who knows you were a mercenary before you joined the British army will be inclined to believe him.” She stepped out of his embrace and wrapped her arms around her waist. She’d looked more fragile at that moment than he could ever remember seeing her. “You have enemies in Whitehall and St James’s from your days serving with the Prussians.”

“I also have allies in the Lords.”

“Dartmoor, Crew, and Greysmere? Allies who were also mercenaries and outcasts.”

“Your father,” he reminded her.

“Who has even less power to influence Parliament and the Crown than your friends do.”

Her shoulders sagged, not with anger, he realized but with fear. Malcolm had rattled her to her core.

Her face darkened with hopelessness. “I can’t think of another way out of this. It’s Malcolm’s word against yours, and all the proof points to exactly what he’s claiming.”

“Circumstantial evidence. I’ll have to be tried in the Lords, and my fellow peers wouldn’t dare let one of their own be tossed out, even one they despise.”

She shook her head. “Prinny’s desperate for money these days. He might just decide to attaint the dukedom to get his hands on your fortune and lands rather than give them to Malcolm, and the Lords would all fall in line to stay in his favor.” Her blue eyes turned watery. “Other dukedoms have been attainted on less evidence than that.” Her voice choked. “I won’t let them harm you.”

“They won’t harm me.”

“They’ll hang you! Because ofme. That’s what’s changed. You’ve married me and gotten everything John possessed as heir.I’mthe proof they need to believe that you murdered John. To sane jurors, it might not make a difference. But to greedy princes and lords desperate to curry favor…it’s all they need to destroy you.” Overcome with emotion, she began to shake, and a single tear slipped down her cheek. “I will not let them destroy you. Do you hear me? I won’t!” She pressed her fist into her chest as if her very heart tormented her for loving him. “You saved my life, Shay. You saved me from marrying James Norton.” Her voice was little more than a hoarse rasp, filled with coarseemotion. “It’s my turn now to save yours, and the only way I can do that is by leaving you.”

“The hell you will,” he growled.

Without warning, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the dining table. He shoved the chair away with his boot and perched her on the table’s edge, her legs dangling in mid-air, her eyes level with his.

He placed his hands flat on the tabletop on both sides of her and leaned in. The anger burning inside him surely turned his gaze piercing as he fixed it on her. “We are married now,” he bit out, “in every way.”

When she looked away, he cupped her face between his hands and turned her back to look at him.

“You are the Duchess of Malvern. You are my wife. You areeverythingto me.” He caressed her cheeks beneath his thumbs. “And I would rather die than part from you.”

He darted his head down to capture her mouth in a kiss so full of intensity that she gasped from the power of it. The kiss wasn’t tender or affectionate; it was possessive and raw, full of the pulsating yearning for her that had plagued him since he rode away five days ago. Not just physical desire either, but the way she filled his life with happiness and possibility, how she provided the chance for absolution for all his sins.

Her gasp turned into a sultry moan when he parted her lips with his tongue and slid inside to claim her sweetness. He thrust relentlessly between her lips in a promise of more to come, and he felt the passion rising inside her as she wrapped her arms around his neck and arched herself into his hard front as he stood between her knees, parted as wide as the hem of her dressing gown and night rail allowed. He rewarded her boldness by running his hands over her, massaging her soft curves, enjoying the warmth that seeped into his palms.