Page 65 of Mad Duke March

“But they threatened to disown me. At that moment I couldn’t think of anything more terrible than that, but seeing you now, here, in the arms of another man… I can’t imagine going through life without you.”

Emily blinked, wondering whether it was appropriate to laugh. “That man is my husband. I am married. You do know that, correct?”

He stepped closer. This time, Emily assessed her surroundings before making a retreat.

“But the child inside you is mine, is it not? We’re connected. Forever. I made a mistake. Have you never made one? Would you throw away a chance for us to be a family because of a simple mistake?”

Emily wondered if this was a dream and she was in the middle of a play to which she had not learned the lines. It seemed so nonsensical. “How?” was all she could muster.

“Run away with me.” Bernard made another attempt to grab her hand and this time, he succeeded.

Emily twisted her arm away. She’d laugh if the entire exchange wasn’t so disturbing. “I am married,” she repeated, enunciating every word carefully.

“We can live in sin,” Bernard continued, his eyes feverish. “We can go to France or Prague. Anywhere you want. Just the three of us. You, me, and the baby inside you.”

Emily froze. You would never leave your family behind. Even if your own life was in danger. How could her husband know her so well after only being acquainted with her for a few weeks, yet the man who claimed to have loved her for years—the man she had thought she loved—knew so little? “If you truly think for a moment that I would even entertain your offer then you do not know me at all. And I do not know you either. But I thank you for finally opening my eyes. Although you broke my heart and shattered my trust, you are also the reason I married a man who knows what love and respect truly are. And I am immensely grateful to you for that.”

A cruel, ugly laugh left his lips. “Tyrone? He wouldn’t know respect if it knocked him over the head. He is a beast.”

Emily’s fingers curled into fists, her cheeks burning with anger. She hadn’t known she would ever feel protective over her husband, especially since she’d thought him a beast just a few weeks prior. But she couldn’t listen to this coward talk about her husband with such contempt in his voice. “He is more of a man than you will ever be. His name should never cross your vapid lips again.”

“You used to enjoy my lips,” he said with a twisted smile and Emily wondered how she had ever thought him handsome or kind.

“I didn’t, Bernard. Until I married my husband, I simply didn’t know what enjoyment truly was.”

"Tyrone?"

Tyrone turned to see Sutton standing before him. "Ah, Judas. Did you come to spring more family members on me?"

Sutton cleared his throat uncomfortably. He took out a cigar from his coat pocket. "I came to offer peace."

Tyrone nodded and both men stepped out on a balcony for a smoke. They stood in silence for a short moment, before Sutton said, "I only wanted what was best. I always thought you missed her."

Tyrone let out a cloud of smoke. "I did. But I would appreciate it if you let me deal with my own demons from now on."

"I vow not to engage in matchmaking of any kind from now on."

Tyrone looked at his friend and chuckled. "Occasionally you get it right," he said.

A small smile touched Sutton's lips. "I assume you're talking about your wife?"

Tyrone remembered overhearing his wife as she stood up for him against his mother, declaring him her priority, and he couldn’t help but feel the warmth travel down his limbs. She was loyal and protective over the people she loved. Then perhaps it meant that—

Tyrone snuffed out his cigar and grinned. "If I were you, I'd quit while ahead." He tapped his friend on the shoulder and walked away.

When he entered the ballroom again, he immediately looked for his wife. This night, thus far, had been one of the best of his life. And he would have loved to continue it in the same way.

But his wife was nowhere to be found. She should have been back from the retiring room by now. Where was she?

He moved toward the exit, wondering if she was ill, or if something had happened to her, when he finally noticed her talking to a slim, blond man. At that exact moment, the man unceremoniously grabbed Emily’s arm. Tyrone burned with anger at the oaf who dared such a liberty.

He was ready to tear the arms off the offender’s body, but by the time he managed to reach his wife, pushing through the crowd, not only had she successfully shaken the man off, but he had slunk away, disappearing into the crowd.

“Who was that?” Tyrone barked. His demeanor changed as he noticed that Emily was pale and looked rather ill.

She immediately reached for him, and without thinking, Tyrone wrapped his arms around her.

He didn’t care that they were in the middle of the ballroom or that dozens of disapproving matrons were going to whisper about them. His wife needed solace, and he would give it to her.