Wedded to the Duke of Lust (Dukes of Passion #1)

Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

G erard was the first to awaken, but he was in no hurry to get out of bed.

It was raining outside but it was cozy in his bed, and he had a soft warm body to hold on to. He could not help pulling Seraphina closer and burying his head in her neck. He breathed in the smell of her, finding her intoxicating.

“You like my perfume, do you not?” she mumbled and he could hear the smirk in her voice.

“Your perfume?” he asked in confusion, “Is that not your natural scent?”

She giggled. “It could be. Or it could be the love potion I dabbed on last night.”

“Love potion? What do you mean by that?”

Seraphina turned in his arms so that they were facing each other. She put her arms around his shoulders and leaned in to kiss him. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” he replied with a smile, “What do you mean about that love potion?”

“Well, if you could go to my drawer, the second one on the left, and get it, I can show you.”

He frowned. “You mean me to get out of this warm bed, walk across the room on the cold floor, to get to your armoire?”

“You can wear my slippers if you want,” she said giggling.

He flung the blankets aside and swung his legs off the bed. “I do not need your slippers, thank you very much.”

With that, he marched across the room and opened the drawer.

He peered into it, seeing the bottle of perfume but also wedged between it and the wall of the drawer was a neatly folded letter. He frowned, wondering why Seraphina would keep a letter there.

“What is this?” he asked, picking up the letter and holding it up.

“Hmm?” she asked, her eyes half closed, her head deeply ensconced in the pillows.

“What is this?” he asked again and unfolded the letter.

My dear Sera, the letter began. Gerard frowned as he continued to read.

I hope this missive finds you well. It has been too long since I saw you. I cannot wait for your husband to return to his iron castle so that we might be together again. My entire body longs for you. This separation from you makes every part of my body ache—you know which one most especially.

Please do make haste and answer me, for at the moment I live for your letters alone. They sustain me in this time of need.

With all my desire and passion,

Nicholas.

Gerard read the letter again uncomprehending.

What does this mean?

He turned to look at Seraphina who was still sprawled luxuriantly on the bed. Her eyes had never quite been open but now it looked like she had gone back to sleep.

He marched over to the bed and shook her.

“Seraphina! What is this?” He brandished the letter in her face.

Her eyes flickered open, brow furrowing in confusion.

“What’s the matter?” she asked drowsily, and Gerard hated how adorable she looked.

He thrust the letter in her face. “What is this?”

She squinted, not able to see anything because the letter was too close to her eyes. Finally, she snatched it out of his hands and positioned it better so that she could read.

Her frown seemed to get deeper and deeper as she read the missive. It was as if she had never seen it before.

Gerard snorted, shaking his head.

She probably never expected to get caught, he thought bitterly.

She held the letter out to him. “Gerard, I promise you I don’t know what this is.”

“You dare?” he yelled, “You dare to lie while looking me in the eye? What kind of monster have I brought to my bed?”

She sat up, blankets pooling at her waist, leaving her naked breasts uncovered.

“Listen to me,” she said softly.

He folded his arms at his chest, glaring at her. “I’m listening.”

She took a deep breath, “This is the first I’m seeing this letter. I don’t know where it came from.”

“You acknowledge that it is addressed to you?” Gerard asked.

“Yes, but?—”

“ And you acknowledge,” Gerard spoke over her, “that it was in your drawer?”

She just blinked up at him with large puppy eyes. It made him even more angry that she would use her feminine wiles on him at this time.

“Answer me.”

“No,” she said quietly.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I said no! You are not ready to listen to anything I say. Your mind is made up.”

“And you will not seek to change it?” he asked in disbelief.

“How? How would I do that, Gerard?”

“By telling me the truth.”

“I am telling you the truth!”

He turned away from her shaking his head unable to believe that she would continue to insist on her innocence in the light of such evidence.

“I did not know that I married such a liar,” he said, “It would be one thing if you had talked told me that you are not in the business of being faithful, but to hide it like this… to mislead me…” he shook his head, “It is too much. I can’t even look at you right now.”

He marched out of her chamber, intending to get dressed and leave the house.

He thought perhaps Seraphina would come to him and plead for forgiveness, but she stayed away.

He could not believe how much it hurt. Somehow, in the time they had spent together he had come to believe that they felt the same for each other. That there was something blooming between them. To have been doused with the cold water of reality was almost more than he could bear.

He called for the carriage, and left the house, hoping that the further away he went from her, the less pain he’d feel.

Seraphina sat in bed completely still, staring at nothing.

With her hands tightly clasped tightly together, she still held the letter, still trying to comprehend how it had even got there.

She opened up her hand and tried to straighten out the paper so she could read the letter again. The more she read the left she understood.

Why would Ruebridge write this? When was it delivered to me, and how did it end up in my drawer?

She rocked her brains trying to remember when it could have happened. The only thing she could think to do was ask him directly.

Surely there had to be an explanation for this, one that she could present to her husband, and he would believe her.

Scrambling out of bed, she somehow got dressed though her hands were trembling too much to lace her gown properly. She could barely get her hair brushed but she did not want to summon Leticia. She didn’t want anyone to see her in the state that she was in.

It wasn’t just the unexpectedness of the accusation; it was how easily Gerard had believed it.

He didn’t even give me the benefit of the doubt.

Rereading the message, she could understand why he was angry.

When he calms down, he will see how wrong he is.

She could only hope.

Summoning a carriage, she made her way to Lord Ruebridge’s townhouse.

It was a charming stone building where he lived with his brother and his stepmother.

Seraphina knocked on the door and as she waited for a response, she realized that she had rushed over there uninvited and alone.

It would not look good to anyone, were it to come out, but she shrugged inwardly.

Might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb.

The door was opened by a butler who stared at her in abject surprise.

“Your Grace,” he said and then bowed low. “How may I be of assistance?”

“I wish to see Lord Ruebridge. Is he at home?”

The butler disappeared with her calling card but was soon back. “The earl will see you in his study. Follow me.”

With some relief, Seraphina followed the butler as they walked down a long corridor, their footsteps echoing on the bare wooden floor.

The sconces were lit along the hall and so it was not completely dark, but Seraphina still felt an ominous foreboding as they walked down the hall.

The butler came to a stop in front of a heavy wooden door and knocked twice.

“Enter,” Lord Ruebridge’s voice called from the other side of the door.

The butler opened the door and announced her solemnly, “Her Grace, the Duchess of Irondale to see you, my lord.”

“Thank you, Kubrick, you may shut the door behind you.”

The butler left and Seraphina was alone with the earl.

Immediately, she thrust the letter at him.

“Would you be kind enough to tell me what this is?” she hissed coldly.

The earl frowned, taking the letter slowly and straightening it out. He read it, his eyebrow rising higher and higher with each word. Seraphina watched him, her heart fluttering in her chest.

He dropped his hands to his sides and gave her an incredulous look. “It is my name on this document, but I did not write it. This is not even my handwriting.”

Seraphina perked up. “Oh, yes? You can prove it?”

“Of course I can.” He picked up a paper from his desk and handed it to her. “ This is my handwriting.”

Seraphina nodded frantically. “This is good. This is proof. I can show this to Gerard, and he’ll have to believe me,” she murmured mostly to herself.

Ruebridge took a step towards her. “There’s one question that remains though,” he said.

Seraphina looked up at him, eyebrow quirked. “Oh? And what is that?”

“Who did write that letter?”