Page 17 of His Enemy Duchess

Thomas noticed the commotion and realized its source. It was Sophia, slashing through the crowd towards him. He raised a hand to interrupt the man who was talking to him.

What on God’s earth is shedoing here?

In the back of his mind, he had the strangest thought, compelled to turn his gaze away from her. It was a common enough superstition that it was bad luck to see the bride the night before the wedding, and they did not need to invite any more into their imminent marriage.

Sophia came up to him and curtsied with a wide smile, slightly out of breath.

“Your Grace! My love! You didn’t tell me you were joining me tonight. We could have come together,” she said.

Thomas almost wanted to turn around and make sure she was talking to him, but he stayed expressionless, resisting the urge to whisper in her ear that her last words would have to wait until their wedding night. He noticed that there was no sign of his bite. Perhaps she needed a new mark so she would not stray the night before they were wed.

“Are you quite well?” he asked, aware that Lord Archer—the man standing at his side—was staring at them in confusion.

Her smile bordered on maniacal. “Just breathless in your presence, my love.”

He took a moment to analyze the situation. She was looking at him with purposeful intensity, as if she was trying to say something with her eyes, wide and expressive as they were.

He had heard the gossipmongers from the moment he entered the room. He had even heard some lords betting on how long their marriage would last.

Realization dawned on him.

She is more cunning than she looks…

He weighed the situation in his head and considered his options. Hecouldridicule her. Publicly exclaim that this woman is living a delusion, and this is merely a marriage of convenience. But how would that reflect on him? A man admitting he waswillingly putting himself into a position of misery, even if it was for the sake of duty…

“Yes… Lord Archer, this is the lady that shall make me the happiest man in Christendom on the morrow. Perhaps we can resume our conversation another day? I should like to spend some time with my… beloved.” He felt his throat constricting as he said the words, and he gulped down the unease.

At least for now, he needed to keep up this façade.

“Of course, Your Grace. Quite understandable. If I had the choice between discussing dull business and enjoying the night with a beautiful lady, I would make the same one.”

Lord Archer took a good look at Sophia and blinked in bewilderment for a seemingly endless second. One could almost feel the cogs turning in his head as he put two and two together, debating whether he wanted to speak or not.

“Lord Archer?” Thomas prompted.

“Yes, yes. Good evening,” Lord Archer replied and walked off slowly like he still had not decided if he might turn back to voice his doubts.

Out of the corner of his eye, Thomas noticed him whispering to the next group of nobles he approached and drawing attention to them.

Let them gossip. It hardly matters now.

Thomas moved closer to Sophia until there was barely half a hand’s width between them. All at once, he was transported back to the steps of his porch, hearing himself ask, “But are you ready to become my wife, Lady Sophia?”

His stomach clenched as she peered up at him with glassy eyes, as if she too were remembering the moment. Her neck arched in order to take in his towering height, and he bit his lip to stop himself from biting that sweet flesh again, leaving a new mark. To make his situation all the more unbearable, she reached up to touch the spot he had nipped, her lips parting slightly.

“You should not be so close,” she murmured, though shemade no move to step away.

“And youshould not be here,” he replied coolly. “It is bad luck, though I suspect it is designed to prevent a man and a woman from not waiting until the wedding night, before a lady’s security is assured.”

Sophia’s eyes went wide, her breath catching in a most titillating gasp. “What an uncouth thing to say. At least you do not have to concern yourself withthat.” She swallowed loudly. “Besides, I suspect that only counts when the couple are in love.”

He tilted his head to the side. “I thought we were?”

Watching her struggle to suppress a scowl, vainly attempting to keep a fake smile plastered on her face, was a sight he would not soon forget. Yes, he had chosen to play along, but if she thought he would drop all pretense because no one else was near, then she was sorely mistaken.

This might be the only enjoyment I’ll have for some time; I may as well make the most of it.

Though his mind drifted back to her earlier remark, making him wonder whatwouldtheir wedding night look like. Perhaps they would never have one.

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