Page 124 of The Boxing Baroness

It was slight, but Marianne heard it—the edge in his voice when he asked the question. It wasn’t her that he was jealous of, it was the duke. Dominic didn’t just hate Sin, he was consumed with jealousy.

“How it must have eaten away at you to grow up around such a man,” she said in a pleasant tone.

His jaw tightened.

“Wealthy, attractive, honorable—admired and respected by the ent ire—”

“If you think I envy a dried-up stick like Staunton, you’re not nearly as clever as I thought you were.”

She chuckled.

“What?”

“Oh . . . nothing.” She smirked to herself at his visible irritation.

They rode in blessed silence for a few minutes, but anger, jealousy, and spite were boiling off him.

“I never did apologize for that little trick I played on you.”

It pleased her that she didn’t even experience a twinge at a subject that had once left her blind with humiliation and fury.

“It was my fault as well.”

His lips parted in shock. “I’m sorry?”

“Yes, I should have expected that Sonia was a double-crossing snake and guessed she was in your pocket,” she said, purposely misunderstanding the trick he was talking about.

He scowled. “I wasn’t talking about that.”

“Then what? Oh—” She gave him a condescending smile. “You meant when you hired an actor to pretend to be a vicar and marry us?”

“Yes,” he said, eyeing her sharply. “That’s what I meant.”

“No apology necessary. In fact, I should be thanking you.”

“What?”

“The notoriety was good for my career. Before you, I was just another novelty act. As the Boxing Baroness, I always take top billing. So, your trick—as you call it—has made me a great deal of money, Dominic.”

He eyed her shrewdly for a few moments. “You are much more interesting than you were before you met me; you should be thanking me.”

It was Marianne’s turn to throw back her head and laugh.

Dominic didn’t like that. “You were just another green girl—pitifully grateful for any attention from a man of my status.”

It was easy to smirk at his puffed-up assessment of their past. Especially when one considered the status he was referring to—that of pariah.

When she failed to take the bait, he went on. “What happened between us has given you . . . texture. And you’re much more confident—it looks good on you.”

“And all thanks to you,” she said.

“I’d like to think I had my share in shaping you.”

“So you actually did me a favor?”

“You could say that. If nothing else, I’ve brought you to the notice of a man like Staunton. Now that he’s taken you as his mistress, I’ve elevated you beyond your dreams.”

“So, you’re something of a humanitarian, then?”