Page 42 of Mad Duke March

Her husband smiled. “Have you now?”

I’ve been madder. She wrinkled her nose remembering her unladylike behavior following their first meeting and up until they married… No, even after that. “I haven’t witnessed you do anything mad.” She scoffed as a certain picture came to her mind. “Except for whatever you were doing on the day we met.”

He chuckled. “I was a lot madder when I was younger. I drank a lot, caused a lot of trouble, dueled over trivial things.”

“What trivial things did you duel over?”

Tyrone resumed absently playing with her fingers. He did it easily, as if it was natural for him to do so, as if he’d done it thousands of times before. Emily found comfort in the action, until he said, “The honor of a dishonorable woman was the most common reason.”

“Dishonorable?” She tensed.

“Yes. A married lady who spent her nights with me instead of her husband, for example. Or a young debutante who set her sights on trapping a duke.”

Tyrone's fingers continued their lazy exploration of Emily's palm, tracing delicate circles and swirls that made her shiver. She held her breath, praying he wouldn't stop the intoxicating caresses.

"Trapping?" Emily finally managed, though his touch had scattered her thoughts.

"Mmhmm." His thumb stroked the sensitive skin of her inner wrist. "Tricking me into a compromising position."

Emily wet her suddenly dry lips. "Have... have many ladies tried to trap you?"

His lips quirked. "Some have tried. None have succeeded." His fingertips danced up the inside of her arm. "Until now."

A flush rose on Emily's cheeks. She met his heated gaze, heart pounding. "Have I trapped you then?"

"Completely." His hand slid around to cradle the nape of her neck. Emily swayed toward him, mouth parted in anticipation. “Somehow, I don’t seem to mind.”

His fingers tightened possessively, and then his mouth claimed hers in a searing kiss that stole Emily's breath. When at last he raised his head, her lips still throbbed from the pressure of his mouth and the caress of his tongue.

For a brief but passionate moment, she had forgotten that they weren’t alone in the world. They were, in fact, in a crowded theater box filled with her family and her husband’s friends. Her mother and siblings were sitting just a few seats away! And here she was unashamedly kissing her husband. For some odd reason, she couldn’t force herself to care.

"Still think me less than mad, mo tíogar?" His rasping voice held a note of humor and something far more dangerous that thrilled her to her core.

Emily touched her swollen lips, shock and wonder and desire swirling through her. "Yes," she murmured. “For if you are mad, then I must be too.”

Chapter Fifteen

Aweek had passed since their outing to the theater, and Emily was as confused as ever about the state of her marriage.

On one hand, the duke had become the most caring husband one could have ever asked for.

The day after the theater, he had invited Emily into his study and instructed his solicitor that he was now to work for Emily as well. He had dispensed Emily’s allowance and opened credit in every major shop in London in her name. He had told her that he would pay for the governesses and tutors for her siblings from his own account.

He had also joined them for dinner every night since then. He wasn’t very talkative, but a few remarks he made during conversations added levity, putting her siblings at ease.

He had even spent a portion of his time with Reggie, playing chess and showing him the stables, making Reggie light up with glee. He had suffered through her sisters’ musical numbers without once showing his displeasure, and continued to show up to their lively evening entertainment as if there was nothing better he could do with his time. As if there was nothing else he would rather be doing.

He had teased Emily with words and seductive touches, and if looks could devour, she was certain she would not exist any longer.

Which made it even more perplexing that when the night fell, he was nowhere to be found.

Emily came to his bedchamber every evening to see if he desired to start their marital relations now that she had received her allowance, and also because she needed him to think the child she was carrying was his, but he was never in his room. She looked for him in his study, the library, and every other room of the house, hoping to run into him, speak with him, or sit with him in silence, steal a kiss or two, and maybe more, to no avail.

She didn’t want to think where he spent his nights, but she couldn’t help but lie awake all night wondering. And when he returned to his room in the early hours of the morning, he always locked his door as if afraid she was going to pounce on him and ravish him… Which was her ultimate goal.

She told herself that she had to do it. She had to seek him out. Not for pleasure, but for self-preservation and the future of her child. But the truth was, she just wanted to be near him. The world got warmer when he was near, whether it was from his body heat or the fire in his eyes.

Seeing him with her siblings, observing him more, she knew he would never hurt her child even if he found out the truth about her condition.