Page 10 of A Rescue by the Rakish Duke
Gwendoline had to swallow a gasp.
While what the duke had said made sense, she was too far gone in her anger. She was also furious at him and herself for what happened.
Freedom. The word hung over her, then dove to stab at her. It mocked and grated, like the rusty bars of a cell.
“My only chance for freedom?” she snapped. “It seems to me that you have taken me out of one cage and are about to put me in another.”
The accusation hung in the air. Gwendoline almost regretted it. She had lost her temper, and it was not something she wanted to do in front of the duke. In front of anybody.
She swallowed hard, as he didn’t even seem bothered by her outburst. He said nothing, keeping his gaze steady on her. His calm intensity unnerved her. Disarmed her.
“All right then,” he said as if he understood her point. His voice remained firm, though. “If you truly believe that, think about it this way. This cage comes with a key. You control it. You can use it whenever you wish to come out.”
Though her heart and dignity had been bruised so many times, Gwendoline’s anger fizzled out as she realized what he was saying. Nobody had offered her a key before. Yes, she could potentially leave a house without shackles, but it was all an illusion.
Nobody had offered her the illusion of freedom before, let alone the real thing. It dangled before her like a feast just out of reach from a starving man.
“A marriage of convenience, you say, Your Grace,” she replied bitterly. “Convenient, indeed. I am already dressed for your plans.”
Gwendoline hated that she found herself relenting. With any other man, she would have been out of the carriage a long time ago.
Surprisingly, the duke’s lip twitched, as if he was trying to stop his amusement from cracking his mask of stoicism. Then, he took a slow, deliberate breath as his gaze swept over her with a heat that made her stomach tighten.
What was he doing?
What was he doing toher?
“Nonsense,” he murmured, his voice rougher now, as though the words had escaped without permission.
“What?” she asked, startled by the sudden change in his tone. “What do you mean?
“You will take that dress off,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Pardon me, Your Grace?” Gwendoline squeaked, her eyes widening.
Heat rose to her cheeks and spread over her décolletage, pooling low in her belly. But the man didn’t seem affected. Tension crackled in the air between them, and she wondered if she was the only one who felt it.
His eyes seemed to tell a different tale. They bored into hers as his jaw tightened. Those gray orbs looked hungry, almost predatorial. Strangely enough, she didn’t mind being the prey this time. She tried to shake off the feeling.
“Because I will burn it and acquire a new one—a better one—for you,” he replied in the same even tone, but his eyes were burning with anger and something else she couldn’t quite name.
What she could be sure of was that the gravel in his voice sent shivers up and down her spine.
Gwendoline blinked. Once. Twice. The duke was still watching her with the same intensity.
The carriage began to slow down, announcing that their destination was near. Even when the rattling decreased, Gwendoline barely noticed. She had been ensnared by the thrilling pull between her and the duke. His eyes told her that he wasn’t wholly unaffected as she had initially thought. They followed her every move as if trying to see what she thought of Greyvale.
For the first time in a while, Gwendoline felt like she might have found safety.
Chapter Four
“Thank you,” Gwendoline said.
The nerves caught up to her as the winding road gave way to a path within a sprawling estate.
She sat stiffly, her back rigid, but she managed to tilt her chin up and look ahead. As for her new husband, he looked the same as always.
Calm. Collected. Composed.
