The Duke’s Sinful Bride (Vows of Sin #5)

Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

“ F orgive me, Your Grace, but it seems you have something on your mind,” Daisy observed gently, pausing mid-stroke as she combed Yvette’s hair.

Startled, Yvette blinked back to reality, her gaze snapping to Daisy through the reflection in the vanity mirror. Her lips curved into a small, practiced smile.

“What gave it away?”

Daisy set the comb down momentarily and tilted her head.

“I’ve asked twice if you’d like your hair up or down, and you didn’t respond either time.”

Yvette sighed softly, feeling the weight of her distracted mind.

“I must have been terribly lost in thought. Let it down, please. I plan to spend some time in the drawing room this afternoon.”

Daisy nodded with a knowing smile and resumed combing. The gentle pull of the brush against Yvette’s scalp was soothing, though it did little to still the whirl of thoughts that occupied her mind.

It had been almost four days since the nuns’ unexpected visit to Braemore Castle, yet the memory of Killian standing by her side, fiercely defending her, lingered vividly.

She had told herself repeatedly that his actions were purely out of duty—his wife couldn’t be hauled back to the nunnery like an errant child. And yet, no matter how logical her reasoning, she couldn’t suppress the warm flutter in her chest every time she thought about the protective fire in his voice.

“There, all done,” Daisy announced, stepping back. “You look lovely, Your Grace.”

Yvette offered a genuine smile this time. “Thank you, Daisy.”

With her hair styled in soft waves cascading down her back, Yvette dismissed Daisy and rose from her seat. She requested tea and biscuits to be sent to the drawing room and decided to fetch the book she had been reading.

The quiet hallways of the castle embraced her as she made her way toward the grand library, savoring the peaceful stillness.

But as she neared the corridor, faint voices drew her attention.

“…but the duke is busy, Lady Maisie,” the governess was saying, her tone gently reproachful. “He might not appreciate being disturbed.”

Yvette’s brow furrowed. She edged closer and saw Maisie standing near a large window, her little face scrunched in determined defiance. Her small hands were clasped together as though pleading.

“But I have a surprise for Papa!” Maisie insisted earnestly. “He has to like it.”

Before the governess could reply, Yvette stepped into view, her expression warm.

“What’s this about a surprise for your father?”

Maisie spun around, her eyes lighting up instantly.

“Duchess!” she cried, running over and grabbing Yvette’s hand. “I want to surprise Papa, but Miss Pemberton says he is too busy.”

Yvette smiled down at the little girl. “Perhaps Miss Pemberton is just being cautious.” She lowered her voice, “but I think if we approach this correctly, we might just manage to surprise him.”

Maisie beamed, bouncing on her toes. “You’ll help me?”

“Of course.” Yvette squeezed her hand gently. “Tell me all about your plan, and I’ll find him myself if I must.”

Maisie let out an excited squeal, clapping her hands together as she tugged Yvette toward the nearby sitting area.

“It’s going to be perfect! ” she declared, her voice ringing with joy.

As they settled into the sitting area, Maisie eagerly detailed her plan. Her small hands gestured animatedly as she described a special drawing she had been working on—a portrait of her father she wanted to present.

“I made it extra special with flowers around the edges,” Maisie explained proudly. “Papa likes flowers, even if he doesn’t say so.”

Yvette couldn’t help but smile at the sweetness of the gesture. “That sounds absolutely wonderful. I am certain he’ll love it.”

Maisie’s face lit up even brighter. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” Yvette said and gently cupped Maisie’s cheek.

Yvette’s palms were slick with sweat as she paced in front of Killian’s study door. Her heart drummed in her chest with an intensity she couldn’t ignore, and despite the cool air in the hallway, her skin felt unnervingly warm.

She could barely comprehend the swirl of thoughts racing through her mind. How had she allowed herself to be swept into this—helping Maisie to surprise Killian?

It had seemed harmless at first, a small favor she could do for a young girl. But now, Yvette wondered if she had made a terrible mistake.

Since that searing kiss they had shared, Killian had become a ghost in their home, vanishing into his work during the day, and slipping out of Braemore Castle in the dead of night, as though he were trying to escape her—or something else.

Yvette sighed, pressing her hand against her forehead as she tried to steady her thoughts.

No . Now was not the time to think of that.

There was something more pressing to do, something that could no longer be ignored. She had made a promise to Maisie, and Maisie was waiting. The young girl had placed her trust in her, and despite the strange distance between her and Killian, Yvette intended to keep that promise.

With one final breath to calm her nerves, she knocked firmly on Killian’s study door.

There was no answer.

Yvette frowned. She had expected at least the sound of him moving around, the rustling of papers, or even a dismissive grunt from within. But nothing.

She knocked again, this time a little louder. Still no response. Her frown deepened, and confusion crept into her chest. Killian was never unreachable, even when he was buried in work.

Her brow furrowed as she placed her hand on the doorknob. It turned easily, and with a slight push, the door creaked open.

The desk was covered in papers, but there was no sign of Killian. He wasn’t here.

A sense of unease settled over Yvette as she stepped back into the hallway. She glanced at the door of his chambers and decided to try there next.

With a soft knock, she waited for his response, but there was nothing. No voice calling out to her, no sign of him. His chambers were empty, just as the study had been.

Now, her confusion bloomed into full-blown worry. Killian was always steady, so predictable in his habits, but suddenly he was nowhere to be found.

Where was he?

Frustration bubbled beneath her skin, and she spun around, heading toward the living room in search of someone who might know where he had gone. Her mind was flooded with possibilities, none of them making any sense.

It was then that she bumped into Mrs. Calloway, who had appeared as if by fate, just when she needed her most.

“Good morning, Your Grace,” Mrs. Calloway greeted, her voice warm with familiarity.

She smiled up at Yvette, though there was a touch of knowing in her eyes that Yvette couldn’t quite place.

“Is everything well?”

Yvette forced a polite smile, though her impatience was beginning to show.

“Mrs. Calloway, have you seen my husband? I have searched everywhere for him.”

The older woman’s expression flickered, but only for a moment before she replied with a soft nod.

“Ah. His Grace has been tending to his beasts behind the mansion since early this morning, Your Grace.”

“Tending to his beasts?” Yvette repeated, her brow furrowing in confusion.

The only beasts she had seen since arriving at Braemore Castle were the horses, and yet Mrs. Calloway spoke of them in such a manner that it sounded almost… peculiar.

“Yes, Your Grace,” the housekeeper continued. “His Grace is out back with them. He’s been there for a while.”

Yvette blinked, trying to process the information. It was so unlike Killian to retreat to the stables or the fields. Then again, she still didn’t know much about him.

“Thank you,” Yvette said curtly, the tension in her chest loosening.

She offered Mrs. Calloway a brief nod before turning sharply on her heel.

If Killian was truly out behind the mansion, then that’s where she would go.

Her steps quickened as she made her way out of the mansion and into the morning air.

The courtyard was quiet, with the only sounds being the distant call of birds and the soft rustling of the trees.

She pushed through the back door, the cool wind tugging at her skirts, and ventured into the open space beyond the house.

She scanned the area, searching for any sign of him. The stables were to her right, a familiar sight she had passed by many times since her arrival.

Where was he?

Yvette’s eyes caught sight of a small building which looked unremarkable from a distance.

It stood there with a simple roof and wooden planks that had weathered the years. A rusted metal fence ran along one side of the property, and the small shed beside the house appeared to have been used for tools, though it seemed abandoned now.

The yard surrounding it was overgrown, as though it had been left to fend for itself in the absence of a caretaker.

Yvette strained her ears, expecting to hear something, anything. But there was nothing. No footsteps. No sounds of movement.

She hesitated for a moment, confusion gnawing at her. Could he really be out here, tending to animals?

She pushed forward, her heels crunching the dry earth beneath her as she approached the house. And then, just as she neared the building, she heard it.

A sudden burst of violent barking. The sound hit her like a wall, a clamor of growls and sharp barks from multiple dogs. Her heart leapt in her chest as she jumped back in fright, a gasp escaping her lips.

The sudden movement sent her off balance. She missed a step, her foot slipping on the uneven ground.

Before she could catch herself, two strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her back against a hard, unyielding surface.

A startled shriek tore from her throat as she instinctively braced herself. The voice that followed, low and soothing, did little to calm her racing pulse.

“It is just me,” Killian’s voice murmured, the familiar drawl of his Scottish accent wrapped in an unexpected softness.

Yvette’s breath caught in her throat as he slowly released her. She placed a hand on her chest, trying to steady her heartbeat, but the sensation of his arms around her lingered, still warming her skin.

Killian didn’t seem to notice her hesitation as he moved past her, heading toward the small building.

Yvette remained where she stood, unable to tear her gaze from him as he passed. Her eyes followed the strong, muscular frame of her husband, noticing for the first time the absence of his shirt.

Heavens.

His chest, bare in the cool air, was well-defined, his skin tanned from hours spent outdoors. His back was wide and rippling with muscle. His shoulders were broad, and every movement seemed to highlight the grace of his form, even as he walked toward the dogs.

Yvette’s breath hitched, her mouth going dry as she caught sight of the taut muscles shifting beneath his skin with each movement.

The sight of him, so raw and so powerful, did something to her—something that made her feel both alive and conflicted in equal measure.

The ache in her chest tightened, and she quickly looked away, though the image of him stayed burned into her mind.

She couldn’t quite explain it. How seeing him like this, without the usual restraint of his clothes, made her feel both drawn to him and yet repelled, as if some part of her knew it was a vulnerability she shouldn’t want to touch.

She wanted to feel his arms around her, to be held by him, but at the same time, she recoiled from the sudden heat of that desire. She fought to ignore it, focusing instead on the dogs, barking furiously behind the small house.

Her gaze, however, kept drifting back to Killian. He moved fluidly, tending to the dogs, his hands working deftly as he soothed them into submission.

“Sit, Doris. Come on, girl,” he said to one of the dogs wagging her tail with her tongue hanging out.

Doris didn’t respond immediately, but when she did, it brought a smile to Killian’s face.

“That’s my girl.”

The muscles in his back shifted under his skin with every motion. She couldn’t help but watch, her heart fluttering erratically.

She stayed frozen, her thoughts swirling as she continued to watch him, the raw energy of his body creating a heat that had nothing to do with the temperature of the day.

Her heart seemed to pound louder in her chest with each movement he made.

It wasn’t until she heard the rustle of his movements stop that she realized she had been staring too long.

Killian had raised his head, his sharp eyes locking onto hers. He paused for a moment, his lips quirking into a slight smile, though there was a hint of challenge in his gaze.

“Can I help ye with something?” His voice was thick with amusement, yet there was an edge to it—a knowing, almost teasing tone that sent a shiver down her spine.

Yvette’s breath caught. She hadn’t realized how close she had come to him, how intently she had watched him.

His question felt like a challenge, like he knew what she had been thinking, even if she hadn’t voiced it.

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she simply stood there, heart racing, caught in the tension of the moment.