Page 60 of A Tale of Two Dukes

It’s maddening to contemplate, and so I push it out of my mind, making my way to the butler. After conversing for a moment or two, I make my way back upstairs, where Catherine should be in the tub. The moment I open the door, the maid dips down, her smile traversing her entire face.

I stifle the urge to roll my eyes and enter the bathing chamber where my omega lies in the warm water, her eyes closed. When she’s relaxed, all tension seems to drain from her body, erasing lines from her face. However, the moment she hears me, her body jerks upright, rigid, pained.

“Relax, kitten. It’s only me.”

With a sigh, she dips back down as I cross over to her. We both remain silent as I bathe her. My movements are gentle, caressing even. Though I’m doing this for her, we both need this. We both need time to come together, to knit our souls in intimacy.

Unfortunately, it’s over far too soon. Easing her out, I step in and clean off as quickly as possible, affixing my mind to the upcoming task. Until now, no one save Robert has seen her. Though strong in will, the very idea that they may choose to end our friendship over my association weakens me just a bit.

These are men I’ve grown up with, shared my soul with. Hopefully, they will understand and not judge. Perhaps it’s better if I leave her at home instead. As much as I want her by my side, and though the very idea of separation guts me to the core, I can’t chance them causing her grief over her status.

Besides, even now she wavers, her body riddled with exhaustion. Best to get this over with on my own than to drag her with me. Rising, I pull her close, pressing my lips to hers.

The moment they touch, she sags against me, molding her body to mine. My cock, the traitorous organ it is, rises, grazing her damp skin. Groaning, I force myself to separate, knowing if I don’t, I’ll spend the day abed with her and not on fixing the issue that is Hugh.

“My love, I want you to stay here. Break your fast and rest. I will return as soon as possible. Oh, and do not accept any visitors, Hugh or otherwise.”

Relief shines in her eyes as she nods her head. “Yes, William. No doubt I’ll be fast asleep by the time you return.”

A wolfish grin eases up my face. “Then I shall just have to wake you.”

* * *

Robert glares at me, his brows furrowed as we stare each other down across his desk. Off to the side, Norhaven and Portswell glance at each other, uneasiness palpable in the air. The two exchange surreptitious looks between themselves, but I see it. I see every twitch of every damned male in this room.

“She’s a whore,” Robert grinds out. “What were you thinking, claiming her?”

Anger flares at his pronouncement. And yet, he’s merely stating a fact, one I so desperately wish to rectify. “I was thinking that she’s the woman I want eternity with. Not that it’s any concern of yours.” Anger arcs between us, fairly snapping with its intensity. “And not that I need to explain myself to you.”

“As your brother and head of this house, you damn well do need to explain.”

Portswell breaks away from the other two and slides closer to me, his brown eyes nearly black with concern. “You two shouldn’t-”

“Oh, come off it,” Robert growls, slamming his hand against the desk. “Shouldn’t you be with Redleigh right now?”

Miffed, our friend backs away. “He’s too busy seeing to his ward. Otherwise, he would be here. You know that.”

“Then take Norhaven with you and go play cards or something. This is a matter between family.”

“Like hell it is,” Norhaven roars, squaring up his shoulders. “We are family. Every last one of us. What happens to one happens to us all.”

Robert sneers. “So you happen to be fucking a whore and wanting to make her a wife as well?”

“I never said-” I attempt to interject.

“Why else would you claim her?”

Norhaven’s face falls for a moment, pain shining in his eyes. “You know nothing of what I’m doing,” he murmurs, cutting through the tension. “And I say if your brother wants to marry someone he loves, then let him. We should all be allowed to choose who we follow into the parson’s mousetrap.”

Portswell walks over, his expression concerned. “Don’t be hasty, Norhaven. I’m sure all Blackport means to say is we are dukes, men with responsibility. As much as the sentiment might stand, we still have obligations.”

I watch Norhaven, studying his face as it falls again. He, too, understands my plight. Though I have no idea who it is that causes him such distress, I feel it in my soul. He glances up, and I nod, showing him my solidarity.

To me, it doesn’t matter whom he chooses. I’ll still stand by him, much unlike the other two puffing out their chests. As much as I don’t envy Robert in his role as the firstborn, it does make both him and Norhaven’s brother, Whiteport, stuffy and insufferable at times.

“Obligations or no,” I announce, utterly done with this line of conversation, “I have bound myself to the girl. Now, will you help me or not?”

With a sigh, Robert sinks into the chair behind his desk. “What will you have us do? We cannot go confront Hugh simply because he makes your plaything uncomfortable.”