“Yes.”
“Ah.” He shifted slightly, his thigh pressing against hers. “And what happens then?”
“You tell me.”
“The agreement ends. The doors unlock.”
“And?”
“And we see what we truly are to each other.”
Her pulse jumped. “What do you think we are?”
His silence stretched long enough that she wondered if he meant to answer at all. Then, quietly:
“Inevitable.”
Heat curled low in her belly. “Inevitable?”
“From the moment you walked into that room, chin lifted like a challenge. From the moment you looked at me and sawsomething other than the Beast. From the moment you agreed to this marriage when every rational instinct ought to have had you fleeing.”
“I don’t flee.”
“No. You stand and fight.” His gaze dropped briefly to her mouth before lifting again. “Even when the fight is already lost.”
“Is it? Lost?”
“We shall find out in twelve days.”
London’s distant skyline appeared through the carriage window, a grey smudge rising against the horizon. Celine felt a pang—relief and disappointment tangled so tightly she could not separate them. With the city came obligations, scrutiny… and the end of the closeness that carriage walls had forced upon them.
“When we return,” the Duke said, “things will be different.”
“In what way?”
“We’ll have callers. Invitations. Preparations for the ball. Every gesture will be watched.” His tone carried no particular irritation—only weary certainty. “They’ll pick apart our marriage the moment we step through the door.”
“They already were,” she reminded him.
“It will be worse in London. Servants talk. So do their friends. Every household in Mayfair trades gossip like currency.”
“So we perform.”
“We perform,” he agreed. “The devoted newlyweds.”
“And in private?”
His jaw tightened. “In private, we maintain our agreement.”
“For twelve more days.”
“Eleven days,” he corrected quietly, “and approximately fifteen hours.”
She turned to him, surprised. “Who is counting now?”
“We both are,” he murmured. “We always have been.”
Rothwest House rose before them, all stern angles and dark stone—unchanged, yet no longer forbidding. It felt, in some strange, impossible way, like returning to something familiar.
