Page 34 of Shameless Vows

“Mal—” I start to say, but then remember the necessity forcompliance. “Duke, what’s going—”

His hand flies across the car to grab the collar of my coat, and he jerks me close to him. “Do not speak to me right now. This isnot the time, Duchess.”

He shoves me back against my seat and turns out the window again, and we ride in silence all the way back to the palace.

ONCE WE ARRIVE BACK at the palace, Malachi drags me by my arm all the way up the stairs and to my room, where he hurls me onto the bed.

“Stay. Here,” he barks. “We will not leave this property again until further notice.”

Despite knowing that my penance iscompliance, I can’t help asking, “What happened?”

“Itoldyou!” he bellows, lunging toward me. “If you need to be aware of something, I will inform you! You donotneed to be aware right now!”

It was a bad idea to even ask, so I sit up straight and drop my chin low. “Yes, sir.”

Malachi stills briefly, silent for a moment aside from deep, rough breathing. “What? No snappy, defiant retort from the Duchess this time?”

I subtly shake my head.

He goes silent again, but I feel the weight of him staring at me as though studying me. He lingers like that for a few seconds before he pivots and begins striding out of the room.

“I will provide a sufficient explanation to you later. Until then, stay in your room.”

With that, he slams the door behind him, causing me to jump in my place on the edge of the bed.

With nothing else to do for likely the rest of the day, I’m gripped with a sick sort of curiosity to try to figure out something from my time in college that can clue me in on when I did the unthinkable. And maybe even specifically what that unthinkable thing was other than simply the fact that I apparently cheated on the love of my life andbraggedabout it.

Given Papá’s high-level understanding of technology, particularly of social media and its tendency to mine personal data, my siblings and I were always banned from having Facebook accounts and the like. So, I can’t scour my own history on something like that.

But…

I have the same email account I’ve had that Papá issued to me when I was thirteen. And I know for a fact that there are thousands of emails between Malachi and me in its archives.

So, that’s how I’m going to spend the rest of my time until he returns to explain our bizarre, urgent need to leave the festival.

EIGHT

MALACHI

Present

“HOWARE YOU SURE they didn’t see us leave?” I bark into the phone, pacing my study. I’ve been pacing for so long that I’m surprised I haven’t carved out a ditch in the marble over the course of the afternoon and into the evening. “What if there were others that youdidn’tsee?”

Vinnie Pasquino, the seedy-as-fuck, native New Yorkerprivate investigator—and I use the term loosely, but I’ve been told by many that he’s the best in the city—that I’ve hired tohandlethissituation,coughs over the line and then wheezes through a smoker’s voice, “I had my guys stakin’ out every corner of the city square. We had eyes all over the damn place. We only saw the two guys. And they was on the opposite side of the square from you and your girl.”

“There were five hundred people there!” I holler, stopping my pacing long enough to lunge toward my desk and slam my fist on it. “How can you be so sure that it was only thetwo?”

Vinnie coughs again. “Hey kid, twovatosin a sea of friggin’ Irish folks stick out like a couple of sore thumbs. If there were others, we woulda seen ‘em.”

“First of all,” I hiss, nearly spitting on the receiver, “we are notIrish. Second, I am the Duke of Corwick, who ispaying you,and you will not refer to me askid.”

Vinnie heaves a raspy chuckle and then hacks again. “Well, pardon me, Little Lord Fauntleroy, but ain’t none of that shit matter to me when it comes to doin’ the job you’re payin’ me to do. Does it?”

I pull the phone away from my face to growl loudly, then bring it back to my ear. “Fine.Can youabsolutelyassure me that we were not followed away from the festival?”

“Hundred percent, kid. I know my shit. You need’ta trust me.”

I huff loudly. “Do you need to send more people over here? This is a small island, but it’s still 220 square miles of places they could be lurking around.”

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