Page 113 of Bound to the Heartless Duke
Something in his voice was different. However, it was not the deliberate distance he had kept in the early days of their marriage, but an undercurrent of concern and protectiveness.
She stepped towards him. “If it concerns my brother, then it concerns me. I will go with you.”
“No.” His refusal was immediate, leaving no room for argument.
“I will not stay behind while you?—”
“You will,” he interrupted, his tone calm but unyielding. “This is not up for debate.”
Her jaw tightened, the warmth of the morning air quickly trumped by the heat rising inside her. “Do you think me so fragile that I cannot face what you can? You cannot expect me to sit in some gilded room while you?—”
“Lily.” His voice was still gentle, but his gaze had sharpened. “You think I do this to diminish you? I do this because I won’t see you harmed.”
“And I won’t see you face it alone!” Her voice trembled now, a mixture of anger and something perilously close to fear.
They faced one another, a line between them, the kind that had once been filled with the hum of flirtation, but now was filled with something deeper.
When she blinked again, a tear spilled over, tracing a path down her cheek.
His expression tightened at the sight. He unclenched his jaw and dropped his shoulders. Then, he closed the gap between them and lifted a hand to her face.
His thumb caught the tear near her mouth, before he bent and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“I will not deny you,” he murmured. “But if you come, you come under my command. You will do as I say, when I say it, without question. There are dangers you do not yet understand.”
She drew in a shaky breath, meeting his gaze. “I agree. As long as I will be there.”
His lips curved faintly, though the smile did not quite reach his eyes. “Then prepare yourself. We depart before midday.”
As he stepped back, both relief and unease washed over her.
Whatever lay ahead in the north, it was no longer something he would face alone, and perhaps that truth was both her greatest comfort and her greatest fear.
CHAPTER 27
They prepared to leave before the sun had risen fully above the eastern hills. The air still carried the chill of dawn, the kind that caressed the skin and lifted spirits.
Magnus was ready, easily swinging himself up into the saddle. The leather creaked under his weight.
“Duchess.” He extended a hand toward Lily, who accepted it and allowed him to hoist her up.
The position was intimate, more than she had anticipated. His arm was wound around her waist, possessively pulling her back against the breadth of his chest to keep her safe. His scent—leather, soap, something darker and masculine—filled her senses.
“Hold on,” he murmured into her ear.
She obeyed, her hands resting lightly on his arm, before he nudged the horse forward.
As the world blurred past them, Lily asked softly, “Do you have a plan once we reach the north?”
“Locate your brother before the debt collectors do. And keep you from doing something foolish in the process,” Magnus replied carefully.
Lily turned her head toward him, catching the faintest glint of humor in his eyes. “You assume I will be trouble.”
“I do not assume,” he said, his lips curving slightly. “I know.”
She gave a small, indignant huff, but her blush deepened. She was grateful for the wind that swept across the fields, for it instantly cooled her heated cheeks.
Hours later, when the sunlight began to fade into the deeper gold of evening, they reached their destination.
