Page 38 of Mad Duke March

He shrugged. “How is the theater different from a walk in the park? I can’t see a reason the entire family can’t enjoy a show. Besides, I invited a few friends to accompany us, and they will be devastated if we show up alone.”

The entire family. Emily’s chest tightened and warmth traveled from her stomach up to her cheeks. It felt nice that he acknowledged her family as his. Even if he didn’t know how many siblings she had. Then his last sentence finally registered in her mind and she grimaced. “A few friends? Surely not the ones I cursed out of this house a few days ago?”

Tyrone let out a bark of laughter. “Yes, that was a rather entertaining night. And yes, Lucien Drake, one of the gents from that night, is going to accompany us. But you have nothing to worry about. He rather admires your… pluck.”

Emily doubted it.

It probably showed on her face, because he chuckled as he continued, “He said so himself. He also said that it was about time someone took me under their heel.” A mischievous smile graced his lips, and Emily froze in shock. She didn't think that her husband, the angry beast who snarled and growled at everything, could be this… charming. He leaned his shoulder against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest, looking relaxed. Emily hadn’t thought he could be relaxed, either. “Not that that’s ever going to happen.”

“Will the Earl of Sutton be there as well?” she asked before picking up her brush and running it through her hair, just so she had something to do other than sit and stare at her husband as he was studying her from under his hooded eyelids.

He looked different tonight, somehow. Clean-shaven, with his hair—longer than hers—cascading down to his shoulders, an ironed-out crisp white shirt under his waistcoat. His breeches sat snug around his muscled thighs. His body was relaxed, yet he was alert, as though he would spring at any moment if needed.

He looked… What was that word she was looking for? Ah, yes, sober.

And it made him dangerously appealing.

But the moment she mentioned Sutton, he tensed, his eyes narrowing. “I’ve invited him, yes. Why are you curious about him?”

Was that a note of jealousy in his tone? Surely not. She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “He helped me in my time of need. I believe he is the only decent friend you have.”

“Decent?” He bristled. “At least I didn’t hide you away at my estate. And I’d say taking your entire family to the theater qualifies as rather decent.”

Emily raised both brows. He was jealous.

This was her chance. If she was ever to lure him into her bed, this was the perfect opportunity. He was sober. He was in her room. And he was exhibiting signs of jealousy. Surely this was what he came for?

But how did one go about inviting one’s husband into one’s bed? She wasn’t a virgin, but she wasn’t savvy in the art of seduction either.

She pushed off the floor and tried to get up as slowly and gracefully as she could. But of course, in her agitation, she tripped over her nightgown and almost plummeted back to the floor.

She would have, if not for her husband. He pounced, and in one quick motion, he was right in front of her, his warm hands holding her by the shoulders. Emily let out a nervous laugh. “Thank you,” she said as she straightened to her full height, shaking and burning from embarrassment. He still didn’t let go of her. She swallowed. “And thank you for arranging the theater. It will mean the world to my family.”

He absently caressed her upper arms with his thumbs, while his eyes bore straight into her soul. “I am just doing my duty as your husband.”

His voice was dark and sensual. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, her heart racing in her chest. If her husband dropped his gaze lower, she was certain he would see it pounding. She took a deep breath, inhaling the pleasant scent of his soap and his manly musk. And she was flooded by an inexplicable urge to bury her nose in his chest or neck, to feel more of him. Heat spread through her entire body and settled in her cheeks, her belly, and low between her legs. She licked her dry lips. “Duty, right.” She raised her arm and ran a finger along the seam of his waistcoat. “Is that why you’re here? To fulfill your marital duty?”

His eyes tracked the path of her finger before he raised his eyes to hers. They were dark and hooded, glinting with fire. “Are you trying to seduce me, Duchess?”

She knew she needed to seduce him. She needed him to believe the child inside her was his. But at this moment, as he looked at her as if she was the only woman on earth, as if he was ready to devour her, she couldn’t think of it as a duty. She wanted to experience his kiss again. She wanted to experience his touch. Everywhere. The wanton thought almost knocked her back on her heels. Instead, she looked up at him. “Should I be?”

The duke raised his hand and slowly, sensually, touched her cheek with a tip of one finger. She had the urge to lean into his touch, to rub her face against his hand like a cat. He moved his finger lightly over her skin, sending prickling sensations down her body, tracing it all the way to her ear before tucking a lock of hair behind it. Emily’s breath caught and her mouth went suddenly dry. Standing so close to him, feeling the heat emanating from him, reminded her of the time his lips were on her, wreaking havoc on her senses.

If he were to kiss her now, she wouldn’t let him stop. She was no longer the seducer, but the seduced. She’d let him do anything he wished to do to her. And she was afraid she was going to enjoy every moment.

He leaned forward, until his mouth was only an inch away from hers, and whispered, “You should let your hair free more often.” Then he straightened to his full height and smiled. “This short style is called A la Titus. It’s all the rage in Paris.”

Before Emily could decipher his words and collect her emotions, he was already gone, locking the door behind him with a decisive click.

Chapter Fourteen

She looked iridescent.

Her gown was faded and worn and her spencer-jacket was too threadbare, especially for a cold spring night, but even surrounded by the most fashionable ladies of the ton, she still stood out like a diamond among unassuming pebbles.

Her family was also dressed modestly in old-fashioned but neat clothing. And it took Tyrone a moment to realize that the reason they were dressed this way was that he had cut off her allowance and had forgotten to resume it. He’d been too preoccupied with his own issues, trying to delve into the estate matters and keep his mind from drinking that he hadn’t paid attention to his wife and her struggles.

He paid attention to her now.