Page 20 of A Virgin to Tempt the Duke

“The east end. Near the third pot.”

He nodded, moved toward the door, and then stopped when he reached her. They were both in the doorway and lookedat her hands. She only looked at him. It was then she could feel just how tall he was, at least six feet four inches of pure muscle, leaning down over her. While Birchall’s presence made her feel trapped, his towering over her only made her feel safe, protected, and yearning for more. She could almost feel the heat coming off of his skin, and a strong desire to lean into that warmth.

“Did he scratch you badly?”

“It was close.” She showed him the back of her hand, her mind coming back to the present moment. The red line was fading already, as was the bruise on her wrist. “He warned me first. Several times. Unfortunately, I have never had a cat of my own, so I am learning some of the particulars.”

“That is unfortunate. I have always found felines superior to canines.”

“I did not have a dog either. Maybe I did when I was with my parents, but that was so long ago. My cousin did not allow any furry creatures within the confines of his home. I suppose that is why I am so drawn to Percy.”

“He doesn’t let people near him.”

“Oh yes, I noticed.” She moved aside to let him pass. “He made his position very clear, but he needed me.”

He looked at her hand for a moment longer, his lip curled up. “Thank you,” he said. “For helping him.”

“Of course.” She paused. “He didn’t want it. But he needed it.”

The Duke was quiet for a beat. “He had a difficult start,” he said. “Before I found him. He has not entirely stopped expecting difficulty.”

“Oh,” Anna said. “I would imagine that takes time.” She looked at him steadily. “If it goes away at all.”

She watched the recognition move across his face.

“I was going to send for you this morning regardless,” he said, and turned back into the study, which was either a subject change or a retreat. Possibly both. “My attorney has replied. Sit down.”

She sat in the chair across from his desk. It was a good chair, the kind that suggested the study received occasional guests and he planned for their comfort.

The Duke settled back into his chair and picked up a letter.

“The grounds are more solid than I initially outlined,” he said, which she understood was his version ofgood news. “No consummation, clearly. But the coercion component is, well… Barnes thinks it is substantial. The way the marriage was conducted, the license obtained without your knowledge, theabsence of any reasonable notice, the methods used to bring you to the altar…” He glanced at her. “And the methods used to keep you there.”

Anna nodded. “The bruises.”

“I saw them.” He said it directly, as he had before, and she appreciated the directness because it spared her from having to introduce the subject herself. “If there is any dispute on that point, I can testify to what I observed. Such testimony from a witness of standing would carry weight.”

“I see.” She looked down at her hands, now folded in her lap. “What do you need from me then, Your Grace?”

“A written statement. Your account of the wedding morning, everything. The discovery of the dress, how you were brought to the church, what happened there, what happened outside. In your own words, as detailed as you can manage.” He paused. “Including how… physical Birchall became with you. I know that is not… I know it is not an easy account to write. But it needs to be in your words and no one else’s.”

“I understand.” She was quiet for a moment. “I’ll write it.”

He looked at her. She was looking at the edge of his desk.

“Miss Cartwell.”

She looked up.

“The process is slow, and it requires paperwork and testimony and patience. I know that feels like very little to set against the situation. But what is being built here is real. Barnes knows what he is doing.” He held her gaze. “You are not helpless. You are… strong.”

The morning light came through the window behind him. She looked at him across the desk, this man who had lied to her husband’s face and put his household on a carriage. The man who meant every single word that came out of his mouth, that had delivered on every promise so far, and no doubt, on every promise he would ever make.

She breathed in once, carefully. “Thank you,” she said.

“There is a writing room two doors down,” he said, returning to the letter. “You can draft it there at whatever pace you need. My lawyer doesn’t require it immediately, but sooner is better.”

“I’ll start today.”