Page 68 of A Rescue by the Rakish Duke
Damian circled the name of a warehouse in London. It was in a spot no members of the ton would dare venture in. Criminals were known to frequent the area, and officers of the law were often bribed to look the other way. They often agreed to some amount of money because they reasoned it would not hurt. Only goods were being smuggled. No harm was being done to people.
Damian knew they were merely lies people told themselves so they could break the law.
He had been ignoring her lately, not because he was furious with her but because his plans for revenge had consumed him. What was actually preventing him from taking action now? He had evidence.
He knew and understood that he needed to be careful with his movements. If he made the wrong move and merely managed to disturb the hornet’s nest, Gwendoline might be hurt this time around. Coming to terms with the fact that he couldn’t lose her terrified him.
Then, this morning, she came up with a plan. It was a good plan. He and Evan had been working hard. The details had been laid out, and they knew where to strike, but by golly, Gwendoline knew where to strike Montrose where it hurt the most.
‘T-Thank you. I s-suppose,” she stammered.
Damian couldn’t blame her. He had ordered Hannah to watch over her for the past few nights and sleep on the sofa in her bedchamber. Instead of comforting her, he decided to distance himself a little.
He had always thought himself a reasonable person. He had even made a list of the reasons he should stay away from his wife.
One, she needed protection, but she shouldn’t see her protector at his weakest. He needed time to vent without her seeing it. Sharing a chamber had made him too vulnerable.
Two, he might be the target. What if there were spies inside the house? Maybe they would tell Montrose that Gwendoline did not mean much to him. That she was to be discarded.
Three, he must not be distracted. The battle was almost upon them, and he couldn’t afford to lose to Montrose when he had been plotting his downfall for years.
Four, Gwendoline might get too close to him, too deeply rooted that he might be devastated if he lost her.
Selfish. Damian suddenly felt both selfish and foolish. He had drawn an invisible but heavy boundary between them. Now, she was here, shedding all her pride to help him see some things that he had known all along but couldn’t quite fathom. He valued the lives of those he loved, but Montrose valued money.
A map of Montrose’s business empire lay on his desk. His eyes traced the lines of ink, following a path that led back to the circle he had made.
A warehouse near the docks.
Since money was a motivation for Montrose, the warehouse was a key piece in their plan to dismantle the earl’s evil empire. A man who had been collecting illegal money shouldn’t even have to ‘sell’ his cousin. Damian’s hands curled into fists on his desk as he studied the other documents detailing the contents of Montrose’s warehouse.
His shoulders relaxed slightly when Gwendoline stepped behind him and massaged them. Her breath was so close to his ear that he felt himself stiffen for a different reason. For abetterreason. His duchess had not given him enough respite.
Damian could feel her soft hands kneading his muscles, but he could also feel her elsewhere. Somewhere more dangerous.
“We can sabotage the warehouse. Cripple his supply chain”, she whispered.
Her words were stern and focused, but her tone made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.
Damian turned his head slightly, knowing what he must do. He didn’t have to run away from this woman. They were married. Divorce was not an option for nobles unless they wanted to be shunned by Society.
Oh, excuses.
Of course, he would find many, even as his lips brushed her cheek softly. He had never been this gentle with anyone, not this close. An unbidden thought came to him—of losing Gwendoline like he lost Levi and Mary—but he shook it off.
Damian realized that his wife had taken over his senses, filled them with her scent, which was a mix of something sweet like roses and something sharper like rebellion. He loved it. He wanted her, and it concerned him that he wanted her all the time. The nights he had her spend with her maid were nights wasted.
Damian wanted to pull her into his lap and forget all about Montrose and his quest for revenge. He wished he could throwaway the map and discard the schemes he had lost sleep over, only to lose himself in her instead.
The sense of duty was still strong, though. Revenge awaited.
“It’s risky, Gwen,” he murmured into her neck. “Montrose will have men. He’s not the sort who does everything on his own. We need more help.”
Gwendoline straightened, her probing gaze on his.
It was so difficult to think about her without thinking about all the things he wanted to do to her. Her eyes were blazing, her determination burning bright and deep. Damian found himself being drawn further to her. Into what those eyes were trying to say. His pulse quickened with anticipation as he could almost see the cogs turning in her head and her mouth opening and closing.
“I can help,” she whispered. Her eyes were still on his, not hiding.
