Page 83 of To Ensnare a Duke

Though he had said that to me in jest, that's exactly how he treats me. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel as a bride, but it can't be like this. He wraps my hand around his arm and leads us out into the street. Many shout their congratulations and well wishes, but they fall on deaf ears.

He helps me into the landau and takes a seat next to me and remains silent. Before it can pull away, my brother hops in with us and sits across from Portswell, his lips thinned in aggravation. Thankfully, he waits until we pull away from the others to begin talking.

"Did I not give explicit instructions?"

I look over at my brother, confusion muddling my thoughts.

"You did," Portswell responds, his tone taking on a bored air.

"And? How is it you are now wed to my sister after I told you not to?"

"You will have to ask her that, as I had no hand in this affair."

Greyson turns to me, his eyes wide. "This was your doing?"

I straighten my shoulders, irritation flooding my system. "I felt as if we would make a brilliant match. I sought him. He is now my husband."

His mouth drops open and hangs agape. "But you know nothing of him."

"Oh come off it," I seethe. "We all grew up together. I can't think of another man better suited for me."

Shaking his head, he gives Portswell a deadly glare. "I should meet you at dawn with pistols, but I cannot find it in me to stay mad at my best friend. My sister, however, is dear to me. Harm her and-"

"And what? She is now my wife. You have no claim on her person anymore. Once we finish the breakfast, you and I can hash out your expectations. Other than that, there is nothing else to say."

"I implore you to make her happy."

"That much is evident."

CHAPTER 37

BENEDICT

Augusta looks rather exhausted by the time I bundle her up in the landau to take her home. The small house should be ready for her by the time we get there. Normally, I'd take her on a honeymoon or bring her out to the main estate, but with things becoming tumultuous in parliament, there's no use leaving just yet.

Not that I even know what I would do with her on a honeymoon. It was hard enough keeping my kiss chaste at the wedding. Even now, she looks up at me with those hopeful eyes and full, luscious lips. But she made her choice. At the end of the day, she chose her own selfish needs over me.

After I acquaint her with the staff, I leave her to her duties to go up to my room where I can think. Truthfully, I thought Greyson would be far angrier with me than he was. Granted, now that she and I are wed, there's really nothing he can do about it.

With a weary sigh, I sit down and allow my valet to attend me, shoving all thoughts of my bride and our wedding night out of my mind. At least I try to. Every time I glance over at the bed, I'm reminded of the plans I made when she first trapped me.

I imagined her spread out on my sheets, her dark hair spilling over my pillows, as I drove into her, stealing her virginity with a hard rutting. Just like I know she'd enjoy. The bed seems so massive now. So empty.

Nearby, I hear her muffled voice as she talks with her maid. The door separating us is not nearly enough. How easy it would be to stride over there and open it, yanking her inside to have my wicked way with her. Shaking my head, I leave the space and take refuge in my study where I immerse myself with work until time to ready myself for dinner.

Augusta is a vision as she descends the stairs in that same gown I saw her in at the ball. The necklace I gave her hangs heavy around her neck, a visual reminder of what we could have had. Though I detest the look of sorrow in her eyes as we sit across from each other in silence, I have nothing to say.

My heart and head are a muddled mess with seemingly no recourse. It isn't a lack of communication. I just don't know what to say. Nothing sounds right as I rehearse it in my mind. Now, it's no longer about just punishing her, but about what our future holds.

Nothing seems right, and the gulf continues to grow with each sip of soup and bite of meat and bread. Eventually, there's nothing left to do but go to our rooms. Her eyes shine with hope as she walks next to me, pausing at my door. I brush past Augusta and open hers, motioning for her to step inside.

The door closing between us is the most agonizing sound I ever thought I would hear. Even as I prepare for bed, I can almost hear her crying on the other side, but when I lean in closer, I realize it's just my imagination playing tricks on me.

Hours pass as I pace about, unsure of what to do. I've never felt so helpless before. Unable to stand the silence, any longer, I ease my way into her room. In the dying firelight, I watch as she sleeps. Her hair fans about her face, mussed as if tousled by a bout of lovemaking.

Based on the position of her hands and the scent of sex clouding the room, she took care of her wedding night herself. I should be angry. Honestly, I should be furious at the blatant disregard, but then, I'm not at all surprised. Even now, with all the hurt and disappointment welling within me, I find I cannot resist the allure of her body.

Pulling my cock out of my breeches, I stroke myself to the beauty of her body splayed out before me. She looks so innocent sleeping there, so peaceful in her repose. I grip my length, squeezing my knot as I imagine what I want to do to her.