Page 29 of A Rescue by the Rakish Duke
Her lips felt swollen. Worse, her heart felt bruised.
The door slammed behind him this time.
It was a marvel that she was able to stop herself from bursting into tears.
She pressed her fingers to her lips as her heart continued to race. She wouldn’t be surprised if it burst out of her ribcage, leaving her behind.
Yes, she’d seen a crack in Damian’s façade, and she would not stop until she uncovered the truth about Timothy. However, what was even more surprising—and frankly unnerving—was that she wanted to solve the mystery that was her husband even more than she wanted to bring Timothy to justice.
Chapter Nine
The morning sun bathed the courtyard in a golden glow. It warmed Damian’s body as he thrust and parried with his sword—not that he needed more warming up. Naked from the waist up, his chest gleamed with perspiration.
On the surface, his movements were clean and precise. Controlled and studied. If someone looked close enough, though, they would see the fury fueling the lunges.
Damian had thrown himself into his training at full intensity, intending to clear his head of various thoughts. However, no matter what he did, he could not exorcise the image of Gwendoline from his mind. Never had he encountered someone who was such a perfect blend of defiance and vulnerability.
Gwendoline had ensnared him, and the thought was more terrifying than the idea of losing against Montrose.
He didn’t intend to lose against the bastard.
But against Gwendoline?
He might have already lost, and he wasn’t even sure if there was ever a game to play and how to play it.
Steel clashed against steel. The sounds rang through the courtyard, forming their own rhythm that somehow forced him to focus. His trainer, Thomas, a gray-haired and seasoned swordsman, quietly prompted his every move. No voice disrupted their routine except when Damian barked with impatience.
“Faster.”
The trainer hesitated, concern clear on his face. It was only then that he spoke.
“Your Grace, you have been pushing yourself too hard. Maybe it’s time to—it’s time to stop or take it slowly.”
“Faster,” Damian demanded, bringing down his sword on the older man’s so hard that the latter stumbled backward.
Damian had never behaved like this before, but he seemed to have no patience left. A part of him was ashamed of himself. Thomas had been with his family since he was a boy, but there was an urgency within him that drove him and his trainer to an almost frenzied kind of violence.
He knew it.
He also knew that the force he was putting into his training should be used with Montrose and not with any servant, no matter how skilled they were. Perhaps he needed to find someone else to train him. He had enough energy to spar with Thomas and another person.
Thomas was starting to see it. He realized that trying to stop the speed and passion with which his young master was moving was futile. All he could do right now was feed it.
The sounds of clanging swords blended with grunts of exertion. Both men drove themselves to do their best, matching each other well and confirming Damian’s suspicion that he might need more trainers. Or perhaps he needed more men. An army against Montrose’s gang of criminals.
He usually trained twice a week. These past two weeks, though, Damian had pushed himself to train almost every morning. Then, he would box at night.
Anger.
Hatred might even be more accurate.
Damian had seen what it could do to a person. It made him surge forward, unrelenting and tireless. Peeking through the hatred was something else—and it was more difficult to tame.
From the shadows of the terrace, Gwendoline watched Damian train with Thomas. She never thought herself a patron of any sport that promoted violence. Her frilly pale-yellow gown, ordered by Damian himself from a famous dressmaker—seemed to accentuate her delicateness.
And yet.
Despite her meek outward appearance, the clashing of blades had piqued her curiosity and drawn her outside. If she was being honest with herself, curiosity was not just about wanting to see a swordfight. It was also about seeing the man who had unmercifully occupied her thoughts for the past few nights. She wanted to see him do what he enjoyed doing without having to listen to his cold voice or watch his small smiles.
