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

Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

T he air at the dinner party was thick with the aroma of fine food, expensive perfume, and the low hum of chatter among the ton . Yvette smiled politely as she and Killian greeted the hosts, the Marquess and Marchioness of Colwick.

The marchioness, a regal woman, wore an emerald gown that matched her sharp gaze. She gave Yvette a warm smile, the only genuine one Yvette had received all evening.

“I trust you are settling back in London well, Your Grace,” the marchioness said, her tone kind but knowing.

“As well as one could, Lady Colwick. Happy Birthday,” Yvette said with a small smile.

Killian placed a hand on the small of Yvette’s back.

“The pleasure is ours to join such a delightful gathering. Happy Birthday,” he said smoothly, his deep voice carrying an authority.

After the pleasantries were exchanged, Killian leaned down to Yvette.

“I’ll need to speak with a business partner for a short while. Will ye manage?”

Yvette offered him a tight-lipped smile. “Of course.”

As Killian walked away, she made her way to a table near the edge of the room, away from the prying eyes that followed her every move.

She’d barely taken a sip of the champagne in her glass when a shadow loomed over her. Looking up, she saw a tall, lean man with sharp features and a smile that didn’t quite reach his pale blue eyes.

“May I join you, Your Grace?” His voice was smooth but carried an edge that made her stomach turn.

“Yes,” she said hesitantly, the weight of his gaze unsettling her.

He seated himself gracefully, adjusting the cuffs of his jacket with an air of casual arrogance. “Forgive me for not introducing myself earlier. I’m Lord Hilfern.”

Yvette stiffened as she recognized him as the man that made veiled comments about her family at the ball they had attended the night before.

“I recall,” she said coolly, standing a little straighter. “You had quite a lot to say about my family, last night.”

Hilfern’s smile widened, unbothered that he’d been caught, as if her challenge amused him.

“Ah, yes. My apologies if my remarks offended you. I merely say what others are too afraid to voice.”

“How brave of you,” Yvette replied, her tone sharp. “To whisper behind people’s backs.”

His eyes glinted with malice. “I see why the duke married you. A sharp tongue, though not quite the match for Albina’s grace, wouldn’t ye agree? Especially given yer history.”

Yvette clenched her hands beneath the table, her nails biting into her palms. “I heard the late duchess was a remarkable woman,” she said evenly, refusing to rise to his bait.

Hilfern leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping.

“Does his daughter resemble him or her? I’ve always wondered.”

The cruelty of the question struck Yvette like a slap. “It is not a concern of yours,” she said firmly. “And I won’t entertain such tasteless inquiries.”

Hilfern tilted his head, clearly savoring her discomfort.

“Of course. I meant no offense. I’m merely curious.” He rose, bowing slightly. “A pleasure, Your Grace.”

Yvette watched him walk away, her chest tightening with unease. His knowledge of her family was disturbingly detailed, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that he had a deeper motive for his comments.

When Killian returned, his brow furrowed as soon as he saw her face.

“What happened?”

Yvette hesitated, then told him about the encounter with Hilfern. As she spoke, Killian’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides.

“I’ll ruin him,” he growled. “That bastard won’t?—”

“Killian,” Yvette interrupted, placing a hand on his chest.

“This isn’t the place for such threats. We can’t afford another scandal.”

His dark eyes softened slightly as he looked at her, though the anger still simmered beneath the surface.

“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “But we’re leaving. I’ll not have ye subjected to this any longer.”

She nodded, relief washing over her. “Thank you.”

The next morning, Yvette sat alone in one of the drawing rooms, gazing out at the bustling London street below. She was lost in thought when Fiona entered, her youthful energy lighting up the room.

“Good morning, Yvette!” Fiona chirped, settling into the chair opposite her. “You look deep in thought.”

“Just reflecting,” Yvette replied with a small smile. “How are you this morning?”

“Wonderful,” Fiona said, her cheeks slightly pink.

“Although I was wondering…” She hesitated, fiddling with the lace trim of her gown. “Do you think I’ll ever secure a match?”

Yvette’s heart softened at the vulnerability in her voice.

“Of course you will, Fiona. You’re beautiful, kind, and intelligent. Any gentleman would be lucky to have you.”

Fiona’s smile was shy but grateful. “Thank you, Yvette. Your words mean a lot.”

In the weeks that followed, Yvette, Killian, and Fiona attended numerous events—balls, plays, soirées, and more. Slowly, the whispers about Yvette and Fiona’s past scandals began to fade, replaced by fresher gossip about another family’s indiscretions which Yvette could not be bothered by, especially since she knew how damaging it could be.

Yvette was far too focused on her new task, which was to find a perfect match for Fiona. She’d decided on the task after her talk with Fiona in the drawing room weeks ago, but so far, it had proven very difficult.

One evening however, at a ball hosted by the Duke and Duchess of Wellingham, a young gentleman approached Fiona. He was tall and fair, with warm hazel eyes and a friendly smile. He hadn’t written on her dance card, but he seemed confident enough that he would secure a dance.

“Lady Fiona,” he said with a bow. “Would you honor me with this dance?”

Fiona’s cheeks turned a deep shade of pink. “Of course,” she said, glancing at Yvette, who gave her an encouraging nod.

As Fiona danced with the gentleman, Lord Merrick—a baron who was known to have just found a mine—Yvette watched with a smile. Perhaps, she thought, the tide was finally beginning to turn.

That night after they’d returned home, Yvette decided to take a stroll around the gardens. She craved solitude, after being involved with the ton for weeks, hoping it might soothe her thoughts.

The stars were scattered across the dark velvet sky, and the faint chirping of crickets accompanied the crunch of gravel beneath her slippers.

She hadn’t been out long when she heard footsteps behind her. Turning slightly, she saw Killian approaching, his tall figure illuminated by the moonlight.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his tone light but inquisitive.

“Not quite,” she replied, clasping her hands in front of her. “I thought a walk might help clear my mind.”

He nodded, falling into step beside her. For a while, they walked in companionable silence, the cool night air settling between them.

“It would seem Fiona has caught the eyes of a gentleman,” he pointed out, and she nodded with a dreamy sigh.

“They looked so perfect while they danced. The baron seemed pretty smitten with her.”

Killian nodded, taking Yvette’s hand in his while they walked. Comfortable silence fell between them before Killian spoke again.

“Are ye enjoying London?” he asked, his brogue slipping through the polished edge of his voice.

Yvette hesitated.

“It’s… different. I was born here, but I feel like an outsider now. Everything moves so fast, and I’m not sure I belong anymore.”

Killian glanced at her, his dark eyes thoughtful.

“The ton can make anyone feel like an outsider,” he said, “Even those who’ve lived among them their entire lives.”

Surprised by his candor, Yvette turned to him. “Do you feel that way?”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening slightly. “Aye, more often than not,” he admitted. “But I learned long ago not to let it show. My father wouldn’t allow it.”

Her curiosity piqued, she pressed gently.

“What do you mean?”

Killian sighed, his gaze drifting toward the distance.

“When I was a lad, my father used to send me to my uncle in Scotland every summer. He wanted me to grow strong, to learn discipline. My uncle—he was a hard man—believed a true Scotsman never led with his emotions, never showed weakness. I spent those summers training, hunting, and learning what it meant to be a warrior.”

Yvette listened intently, her heart softening at the rare glimpse into his past.

“Whenever I returned to England,” Killian continued, “my father would insist I polish myself for Cambridge. He wanted me to be the perfect English gentleman. He hated my Scottish brogue, thought it made me less… refined.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Yvette said indignantly.

He smiled faintly.

“To him, it wasn’t. He believed strength lay in appearances. He wanted me to be someone the ton couldn’t dismiss, despite my half-Scottish blood. It was the reason he forced me into a marriage with Albina. He claimed she was from a respectable family, and her influence would make others accept me.”

Yvette was quiet for a moment as she took in the information. She’d never known all these things about Killian, and it surprised her to know how much he’d endured.

“And yet,” Yvette said softly, “you’ve managed to be so much more than he wanted. You’ve built a life, a family. That takes more strength than any of their expectations.”

Killian’s gaze lingered on her, his expression unreadable.

“Perhaps I have a good influence now,” he murmured, his voice low.

Yvette’s cheeks warmed, and she looked away, suddenly aware of how close they were.

“We must return inside now. You need your rest.”

That same week, Yvette and her family were in attendance for yet another ball, but this time, she looked forward to it. Perhaps it was the excitement of seeing Fiona on the dancefloor with yet another gentleman who had taken interest in her, or the excitement of dancing with Killian in public without a whispered rumor following them about.

The grand ballroom glittered with chandeliers and the laughter of the ton .

Yvette stood with Fiona near the refreshments, listening to the lively orchestra.

She had hoped the evening would pass with only good things happening, but trouble seemed determined to find them.

Lord Hilfern approached, his polished smile as sharp as his words.

“Lady Fiona,” he began, bowing slightly. “I must commend your bravery in showing your face tonight. Quite bold, considering the whispers circulating.”

Fiona stiffened, her composure faltering.

That was a bold-faced lie. There had been no whispers circulating, at least none that had reached their ears.

Yvette stepped forward, her voice calm but firm.

“Lord Hilfern, I wasn’t aware the ballroom was a place for gossip. Perhaps you’ve mistaken it for the market square.”

Hilfern chuckled, feigning amusement. “I only mean to inquire, Your Grace. Surely you’ve heard the talk of your sister-in-law’s… entanglements. It seems the ton cannot decide whether she’s a temptress or merely naive.”

The air grew tense as nearby guests turned their attention to the confrontation. Fiona’s face flushed, but Yvette met Hilfern’s gaze squarely.

“Entanglements, you say?” Yvette said, her tone deceptively light. “I wasn’t aware you were privy to such intimate details of my sister-in-law’s life. Tell me, Lord Hilfern, is it a habit of yours to spread tales about women more accomplished than yourself? Or is it simply that your own life lacks intrigue?”

A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd, and Hilfern’s smug expression faltered.

Before he could respond, a deep voice cut through the tension.

“Enough.”

Killian stepped forward, his imposing presence silencing the room. His dark eyes burned with fury as he glared at Hilfern.

“Anyone who dares insult my wife or my sister will answer to me directly. This is my final warning.”

The room held its collective breath as Hilfern paled, his confidence waning under Killian’s piercing stare.

Yvette placed a calming hand on Killian’s arm, her touch grounding him.

“Come,” she said softly, “we’ve had enough excitement for one evening.”

Back at Oakbourne townhouse, Yvette retired to her room, her heart still racing from the events of the evening. She was removing her earrings when the door opened, and Killian entered, his expression unreadable.

“Killian,” she began, but before she could say more, he crossed the room in three strides, pulling her into his arms.

“You were incredible tonight,” he said, his voice low and husky. “The way ye stood up to him… I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Yvette’s breath hitched as his lips claimed hers in a searing kiss, filled with passion and unspoken emotion.

“Killian…” she whispered when they broke apart, her fingers tangling in his hair.

“I can’t lose ye,” he said, his voice rough. “Not to them, not to anyone. Ye’re mine, Yvette.”

Her heart swelled at his words, and she pulled him closer, her heart pounding with anticipation and nervousness, feeling herself melting into Killian’s kisses.

His lips, tender yet insistent, moved over hers with a fervor that made her knees weak. His hands, warm and possessive, roamed over her body, igniting a trail of fire wherever they touched.

“You’re so beautiful,” Killian whispered against her mouth, his breath hot and tantalizing. The words sent a shiver down her spine, making her feel cherished and desired in a way she had never known before. With a deftness that spoke of experience, he began to peel her dress from her body, the fabric slipping away to reveal her bare skin.

Guiding her to the bed, Killian’s eyes never left hers, the intensity of his gaze making her feel both exposed and exhilarated. He gently spread her legs, and Yvette’s initial shyness made her cheeks burn with a blush. Sensing her hesitation, Killian paused, his hands soothing and reassuring.

“It’s perfectly normal to feel this way,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that resonated deep within her. “I hunger for ye, Yvette. I want ye, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

His words, filled with raw honesty and desire, helped to ease her nerves.

She nodded, giving him a small, tentative smile. Encouraged, Killian parted her legs once more, his head lowering to the apex of her thighs. The first touch of his mouth against her sex sent a jolt of pleasure through her, and she gasped, her hands clutching at the sheets.

The sensation was unlike anything she had ever experienced. Killian’s tongue moved with expert precision, exploring her with a hunger that left her breathless. Her moans filled the room, growing louder as the pleasure built within her. She writhed beneath him, lost in the overwhelming sensations, until finally, with a cry, she found her release.

Killian rose, his eyes dark with desire as he positioned himself above her. The connection between them felt deeper, more intimate than ever before. As he entered her, each thrust was slow and deliberate, a testament to the profound bond they shared. Every movement felt personal, a silent confession of the love and passion that had grown between them.

Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, the rhythm of their lovemaking building to a crescendo. With a final, shuddering thrust, they both reached their peaks, their cries of pleasure mingling in the stillness of the night.

For the first time that night, Killian didn’t leave when it was over. Instead, he held her, their breaths mingling as they drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Lachlan’s hideout was every bit of what a hideout typically was. Maps, documents, and hastily scrawled notes were scattered across the table.

Killian leaned over the table, his jaw clenched as his sharp eyes scanned the latest report Lachlan had gathered.

“This name keeps appearing,” Lachlan said, tapping a page. “Lord Finnley. Word is, he’s been seen in places where gossip brews fastest.”

Killian’s expression darkened, his fingers curling into fists. “If he’s the one who spread filth about my family, he’ll regret it.”

Lachlan smirked.

“Easy, my friend. We don’t want to act without proof.”

Killian straightened, his broad shoulders taut.

“I’m not in the habit of waiting for proof when my family’s reputation is still being talked about in ballrooms. Let’s find this man and confront him.”

“Why don’t I dig in deeper before we confront him?”

“I shall give you two days then.”

“Hardly enough time. Make it four.”

Killian considered it for a few minutes before he nodded.

When Killian returned home, he was greeted by an unexpected sound—laughter, light and melodic, filtering through the doors of the parlor. Curious, he followed the sound and paused in the doorway, his eyes narrowing at the sight before him.

Fiona, Yvette, and Maisie were seated around the low tea table, their smiles wide as they chatted with none other than the baron who’d been around his sister in the past weeks.

Merrick was speaking animatedly, gesturing with a kind of youthful enthusiasm that clearly delighted Fiona.

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright as she laughed at something he said. Even Maisie seemed captivated, giggling as Hugh offered her a delicate pastry from the tray.

Killian’s jaw tensed instinctively at the sight of the man, but then his gaze softened. Fiona looked… happy. Genuinely so. For a moment, the weight of his earlier frustrations eased, replaced by the warmth of seeing his sister like this.

Yvette noticed him first, her smile softening as she met his gaze.

“You’re back,” she said, her voice drawing the attention of the others.

“Killian,” Fiona said, standing quickly. “I didn’t realize you’d returned.”

“I can see that,” he replied, his tone wry but not unkind. His gaze flicked to the baron. “Lord Merrick.”

The baron rose immediately, bowing. “Your Grace, a pleasure to see you again.”

Killian nodded curtly. “I trust you’ve been enjoying your visit?”

“Very much so,” Hugh said with a smile. “Your wife and sister have been delightful company, along with the little charming lady,” he added, gesturing to Maisie, who smiled sheepishly.

Killian’s gaze returned to Fiona, who was watching him with an almost pleading expression, as if silently asking him not to ruin the moment. With a quiet sigh, he let go of the tension in his shoulders.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said simply, his tone measured.

Fiona beamed, and Maisie clapped her hands. “Brother, Lord Merrick told me a story about a cat who stole a lady’s bonnet!”

Killian raised a brow, his lips twitching with a hint of amusement. “Did he now?”

As the laughter resumed, Killian stepped back, leaving them to their tea. He walked toward his study, his thoughts swirling.

Perhaps it was time to let go of the investigation, at least for now. Fiona’s happiness was worth more than his anger or pride. And with Yvette by his side, he felt more certain than ever that they could face anything the ton threw their way.

For tonight, at least, he would let peace reign.