Page 44 of Duke of Rath

“If only I could see my family one more time…” she whispered. “To see that they are doing better. That our marriage…this sacrifice… has produced fruit, and they’re well.”

Dorian nodded without hesitation. “I’ll write to your papa, inviting them to come and stay for a week. Would that be agreeable to you?”

Her chest felt light, her lips curving upward of their own accord. “Agreeable? Oh, that would be absolutely marvelous!”

At the same time, the carriage slowed, signaling their arrival. The Mayfair mansion was beautiful and grand. As if on wings, Patience put her arm through her husband’s and ascended the stairs to the front entry. Then they walked into the ballroom accompanied by a very stern butler.

Patience was so blinded by glittering crystal chandeliers and the diamonds on the necks and clothes of the beautiful ladies and gentlemen, she had to squint. The new scratches and cuts under her silk gloves itched, and she ached to remove them.

This was her first ball in the London ton, and she couldn’t feel any stranger as she walked into the grand room where dozens of mirrors lined the dove-blue paneled walls and hundreds of candles burned in ornate candelabras. Lady Buchanan’s soirée a few days ago seemed cozy and familiar compared to the great ballroom and the sheer number of fashionably dressed and coifed guests.

If she didn’t hold on to her husband’s elbow, she might fall. Her tightly tied corset wasn’t helping. Mademoiselle Antoinette had been ecstatic and outdone herself by dressing Patience into a gown of pale blue, finely embroidered, and with a layer of delicate tulle. The maid had also created a masterpiece with her hair, adding fabric roses of various shades of blue, from icy pale to the intense sky-blue color of her husband’s eyes.

And her efforts had paid off. Looking into the mirror before walking out of her bedroom, Patience wouldn’t have recognized herself. Dorian’s intense gaze, feeling like he was going to scorch her skin, confirmed it.

His arm was solid under her hand, his fierce presence strangely reassuring in front of all these glittering strangers.

“Did I please you that first night?” she asked.

The muscles of his forearm tensed beneath her palm. “Excuse me, what?”

“Did I please you?” she repeated. “When you spanked me?”

“Why would you ask this now? There are dozens of people around.”

“I want to know. It’s a simple question. Yes or no?”

He grunted and walked forward, tugging her after him. Her heart beat strongly in her chest. Many pairs of eyes followed them, but instead of shrinking, Patience squared her shoulders.

Poor Dorian looked miserable. Despite his exterior of a grump, there was a haunted pain in his eyes.

“I’ve only been unhappy in Rath Hall for the past eighteen days,” she said. “That is how long we’ve been married. But you look like you’ve been unhappy there your whole life. Please tell me if I pleased you?”

He inhaled sharply, and his arm grew as hard as granite.

“Very well,” she said. “If you do not wish to reply, I will. You pleased me that night,” she said quietly, watching that no one overheard them. “Did I please you…then and last night?”

When she craned her neck to look up at him, he appeared to be choking.

“You did,” he coughed out.

She felt her lips stretch in a wide smile and it was not forced at all. Joy filled her heart.

“Good,” she said. “I’d like to please you more. I’d like to bring you pleasure like you bring me.”

He shook his head and lowered his mouth to her ear. “No, you wouldn’t, dear girl.” His warm breath tickled the edge of her ear. “No matter how much I want you to.”

Before she could ask more about that, his aunt practically flew towards them. Lady Buchanan wore a striking red dress with a thin waist and a full skirt. She had a high white wig on, with a stunning arrangement of feathers and jewels.

“Ah, there you two are!” Her face brightened. “Goodness, Patience, you’re even more beautiful today, if that is possible.”

Patience smiled back. “How are you, Aunt? You look beautiful, too!”

“Would you serve us punch, Dorian, dearest?” asked Lady Buchanan.

“Of course, Aunt,” said Dorian. They had reached a side table that held a huge crystal bowl of punch and glasses. He poured punch into a glass and handed it to her. It smelled like apples and oranges, and Patience realized she was quite thirsty. “How’s Chastity? She’s not here, is she?”

“No, of course not,” said Lady Buchanan as she let go of Patience’s hand and turned around to survey the guests. “You know her. Reading a new fascinating issue of the medical review magazine that was just delivered. She’ll return to Rath Hall soon, after giving you two newlyweds your time to get acquainted.”