Page 7 of The Duchess’ Little Miracle

William pressed a finger to his nape and shut his eyes briefly. “I will personally see to it that the Bow Street Runners are summoned to drag you away for housebreaking. They can extract your identity in a holding cell.”

“No, wait,” Seraphina said, her voice dropping as she tried to force a sense of logic into the escalating chaos. She shook her head, gesturing frantically between the two of them. “You do not understand. I came here because I found a crest… your private family crest, embossed right onto the corner of a letter threatening to ruin my life by revealing that I write for the column under a pseudonym. I only snuck into this study because I was looking for proof that you were the blackmailer!”

“Why would I care about your columns, let alone go through the trouble of blackmailing you over them?”

“Because...” Seraphina gestured wildly toward the desk behind him, her voice rising. “Because you have every single one of my articles archived on your desk! All the articles, my columns... all written by E. R. Voce. I know how many I wrote in the past year and you have all the editions. You’ve been collecting them for a year! Don’t lie to me, you have been tracking me down. The proof is there.”

William looked over his shoulder at the stack of newspapers, then turned back to her, a look of utter disbelief crossing his face. “I collect them because I read them, you ridiculous woman. Having a complete set of the gazette does not make me a blackmailer.”

Seraphina’s jaw dropped. The wind was completely knocked out of her sails. “You... you read them? For pleasure?”

“Yes! More importantly, I have no earthly reason to threaten your household. I do not even know who you are.” William paused and slowly tilted his head to the side. “You said these letters carried my family crest. The Norwyn crest?”

“Yes,” Seraphina said, her voice finally losing its defensive heat. “A blind stamp. I have never seen anything like it before, but I can show you.”

Reaching into the deep pocket of her linen apron, she pulled out the folded page she had carried with her. She stepped forward, holding it out between them like a fragile peace offering.

“Look right here,” she murmured, her thumb guiding his attention to the bottom corner. “Touch the edge where the fibers are pressed. You have to catch the light just so to see the emboss.”

William frowned, his fingers reaching out to take the page from her hands. His fingertips brushed against hers for a fleeting second, sending an unexpected jolt up her arm. He turned the paper toward the window, his thumb lightly grazing the exact spot she had indicated.

Seraphina watched his face intently. She had expected his features to remain entirely cold, but she caught the exact moment the realization hit him. His eyebrows drew together in a knot. He read the lines of the blackmail threat, his expression remaining outwardly composed to any casual observer, but Seraphina could see the subtle, furious tension locking around his jaw.

“Who on earth would dare cross me like this?” he muttered to himself.

“It is your crest, is it not?” Seraphina took a tentative step closer, her anger entirely dissolving into a strange, hollow confusion. “You truly did not know about these letters?”

William turned, leaning his weight back against the edge of his desk. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at her with a look of exhaustion. “Give me one good reason, Miss, as to why I would go through the trouble of sending you threatening letters.”

Seraphina opened her mouth to argue, then closed it. She looked away toward the rows of leather-bound books, her mind racing as she tried to construct a logical motive. She couldn’t come up with a single one. Furthermore, if a powerful Duke actually wanted to ruin her or her sisters, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to use his own highly restricted, family stationery to do it.

A real blackmailer would have hidden their tracks perfectly.

“So,” William said, his voice cutting through her thoughts. “This entire intrusion had absolutely nothing to do with Alice?”

“I don’t even know who Alice is,” Seraphina cried out, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “But if you aren’t the one holding this sword over my family’s neck, then can you at least point me in the right direction? Who else has access to your private seals?”

William did not answer right away. Instead, he stared at her, his gaze tracking the frantic rise and fall of her chest beneath the drab maid’s uniform. Slowly, a look of profound, incredulous disbelief washed over his face.

“Tell me something,” William said. “Are you entirely insane?”

Seraphina blinked. “I am perfectly sane, thank you very much.”

“You just admitted to sneaking into the estate of a Duke, a man you fully believed was a ruthless, dangerous extortionist who held your family’s future in his hands. You put on a fake uniform, bypassed my household security, and walked directly into my private sanctuary. Have you absolutely no survival instincts? Or are you just exceptionally stupid?”

“I am not stupid!” Seraphina retorted, her cheeks flushing hot. “I might be desperate but not stupid. It was a highly calculated risk. I needed proof before you —before he — could strike at my sisters. I had to do something.”

“Calculated?” William let out a dry laugh. He straightened up from the desk, pushing off the wood and taking a step toward her. “Let me show you exactly how ‘calculated’ your little plan was.”

Before Seraphina could even register the shift in the room’s air, William closed the distance between them. In one smooth, blindingly efficient movement, his hand shot out, capturing both of her wrists in a single grip and pinning them gently but immovably against the wall above her head. At the exact same moment, his other hand bracketed her waist, trapping her completely against the wall.

Seraphina gasped, her heart leaping straight into her throat. “Unhand me. Now,” she sneered.

Her breath hitched, her eyes locking onto his in absolute shock. The tension between them stretched thin and tight, an electric charge that made her skin tingle from head to toe.

“Unhand yourself,” he answered. “Tell me what your calculated plan had in place for a situation where you got trapped like this.”

“Your Grace, this is absolutely —”