Page 109 of Bound to the Heartless Duke
“But… the money from Mr. Bailey?—”
“Gone,” he said flatly. “Lost to debts, drink, and greed. Likely, the moment your brother realized I would not be dissuaded from marrying you, he saw no reason to linger.”
Her hands clenched in her lap. “So they took me, thinking…”
“That you were his most valuable asset,” Magnus finished.
The words were soft, but the look in his eyes was a promise of revenge that made her shiver.
“I am sorry,” she whispered. “If I had not?—”
“Don’t.” The word came out sharp.
Magnus turned to her fully, his gaze locking onto hers.
“You will not take blame for the acts of men who should have protected you.”
Her throat closed up. “But you?—”
“I would do it again,” he said.
There was no hesitation, no softening of the truth. Just raw emotion that tugged at her heart.
The rest of the journey passed in silence. This time, the silence was not uncomfortable, but companionable.
When the carriage finally stopped before Blackmore Manor, Magnus climbed out first. Then, he turned to offer his hand, which she took. He helped her down, and the effortless strength with which he held her made her pulse quicken.
He led her inside and straight into her chambers, where a low fire was crackling in the grate. Lily thought he was going to leave immediately, but he lingered for a few moments.
“Allow me to check you properly.” His voice was so deep, so low, that her lashes fluttered. “To see for myself that you are not hurt in other places.”
“Ch-Check me?” She blinked. “Other… places?”
“Have no fear. I won’t overstep my boundaries,” he assured her.
Well, Lily was interested in the opposite of that. But she nodded nonetheless, wishing to see what exactly he meant by ‘checking.’
His fingers slowly tugged at the knot of her cloak before pulling the garment down her shoulders with an almost reverent slowness.
Every movement, every touch, made her throat go dry.
“Magnus.” Her skin tingled from the heat of his fingers. She caught his wrist, halting him. “Only if I can do the same for you. You are the one who fought half of London tonight.”
His mouth curved, just barely, but the look in his eyes was heated enough to make her heart skip a beat.
“Then check,” he murmured.
His approval was swift, and she had to clear her throat before proceeding.
It began as an inspection, her fingertips ghosting over the breadth of his shoulders, the firmness of his arms, and the faint stubble on his jaw. But with every brush of her hand against his skin, the air around them warmed.
When she cupped his face to better see the shadow near his temple, his hand came up to cradle hers instinctively, before his thumb stroked the inside of her wrist.
“You are trembling,” he noted in a hushed tone.
“I am not,” she lied, but the flush in her cheeks betrayed her.
His gaze dropped briefly to her mouth, then rose again. “Perhaps I am, then.”
