Page 42 of Duke of the Sun

“There,” Rhys said through a few pants, “Is the Duke of Solshire I know.”

Michael shook his head, hiding the fact that he was seemingly proud and satisfied with himself. He slipped out from beneath the ropes and left the ring, pulling the outlandishly large boxing gloves off and throwing them across the floor.

The only person Michael found himself willing to tolerate was Rhys Glowton. Not only did he manage to tolerate the Duke of Nightrow, but he rather enjoyed his company. It took years to build the trust between them, but he realized quite early on how similar they both were. While Rhys was well known to be a recluse by the Ton, not usually seen in Seasonal affairs like balls or grand dinners, Michael had his own reasons for staying out of London’s high society. They managed to cross paths still in their early years, and hadn’t yet found a reason to part.

A year or two had passed since Rhys left for the Americas. He did not attend Michael’s wedding, never stepped foot in the same room as Cordelia. And yet, much to his surprise, Rhys managed to know more than he thought. Michael shook his head again. He supposed he actually wasn’t too surprised, knowing the Ton’s unavoidable reach.

“So,” Rhys called out as he left the ring, “Are you going to talk about it, or shall I?”

Michael sighed as he grabbed onto a towel, throwing another over his shoulder for Rhys to use. A part of him was relieved to have Rhys back in the city. There wasn’t a soul outside of Hunters who knew his entire backstory, to know where he came from and how he ended up where he was. Obviously, someone else was beginning to pry past his walls, peer closer to the hidden secrets he kept buried inside. The last thing Michael had told Rhys about his wife was the night of their wedding, how he left the estate to live elsewhere.

Michael took a seat as Rhys steadily approached. “Cordelia and I attended a ball last night.”

An unexpected laugh blurted out of Rhys. “A ball?”

“Why is that so hard to believe?”

Rhys shook his head. “Don’t make me answer that, Michael. I don’t want to give you another reason to land another punch on me.”

“The Ton had been spreading some unsavory rumors ever since I stopped living at the estate,” Michael explained. “They went so far as to claim I killed my wife, or that she was housing a slew of affairs right on my doorstep.”

“Never took her to be a wild woman,” Rhys mocked.

“I am being quite serious.”

“Well, she wasn’tactuallydoing it, was she?”

“No,” Michael grumbled. “Only handled workers on her own, without a chaperone.”

“And whose fault would that be?”

“Rhys.”

He held his hands up defensively. “It is just a thought, Michael.”

“Are you going to let me explain, or will you keep on rudely interrupting whenever you have the chance?”

Rhys smirked and chuckled. “You might be surprised to know I missed your friendship on my travels.”

Michael frowned. “Don’t tease.”

“Wouldn’t dare to,” he quickly replied. “Go on, then. You were talking about the ball.”

Michael eyed him before letting out a sigh and continuing on. “We attended the ball in an effort to be rid of the pesky rumors,” he explained. “To clear my name and get on with our lives. Cordelia managed to solve it rather swimmingly. I barely had to do a thing. But then we danced, and I could not ignore her persistence any longer.”

“Her persistence?”

Michael shook his head. “That was rather wrong of me to say,” he murmured. “I could not ignore my own desire to tell her of my truth when she asked. There is something…something about her gaze that drives it right out of me. As if I never had any walls in the first place.” Michael rested his chin against his palm. “It is rather infuriating, to say the least.”

“Seems quite nice,” Rhys muttered.

“Nice?”

“To have someone you want to speak to,” he said. “Not many quick marriages wind up being so lucky.”

“In no way do I consider myself lucky.”

Rhys narrowed his eyes. “So what did you say that managed to get you all wound up?”

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