Page 48 of The Duchess He Couldn’t Resist

Marigold ran down the extravagant stairs to the lobby of their house, waiting to see the Duke coming in from a late night. What she saw stopped her in her tracks. Owen was carrying the Duke back into their house, and both of them were in bad shape.

“What happened?” she demanded as she rushed to them.

Up closer, she could see that Owen was beaten, but it was the Duke who was in worse condition. His nose was obviously broken, and there was blood on his face and down his hands.

“Marigold, go back to your room,” the Duke demanded.

Marigold completely ignored him and sprang into action. She called upon her maid and instructed for medicine, clean water, and towels to be brought to His Grace’s room.

“Can you carry him upstairs?” Marigold asked Owen.

“Marigold, you should⁠—”

“Your Grace, you should keep your strength,” Marigold said in a strict tone, “and save your breath.”

The Duke looked at her with wide eyes while Owen chuckled, carrying him up the stairs.

“I would suggest, Brandon,” Owen said, smiling, “you listen to your wife unless you want worse things to happen to you tonight.”

Marigold would have appreciated the joke and perhaps teased back, but seeing the Duke in such condition made her heart plummet and her whole body coil with concern.

Her troubles with her mother seemed insignificant. She just really had to help her husband. For now, that was all that mattered.

CHAPTER 15

RECKLESS

Brandon was quite certain that Marigold would be asleep by now, but she was definitely not as he watched her barrel down the stairs to him. He didn’t want her to see him like this, but it was too late now.

He was being half carried, half dragged up the stairs into his room by Owen. His body was still uncooperative. The pain on his face was a throbbing agony that he fought to hide from Marigold by gritting his teeth. He didn’t have to touch or look at himself in the mirror to know that his nose was definitely broken.

“On the bed!” Marigold ordered.

Brandon lifted his head, and he was ready to tell her to go back to her room, not to worry, but as if she were reading his mind, she met his stare and glared. Perhaps Owen was not wrong after all. It would be best if he didn’t anger Marigold at this moment.

She was standing there, her jaw set and her eyes blazing, visibly trying to hold back from screaming and scolding him. He was saved by the servants who came in bringing what Marigold had ordered.

“Put them there. You can go. I will take care of it,” Marigold said decisively.

She took the basin with clean water and a cloth, brought it closer to the bed, and sat down by his side.

“Is it too much to ask what happened?” Marigold avoided his eyes as she cleaned the wounds on his hands first.

“We were at the docks. We were outnumbered,” Owen said, exhausted.

“And why were you at the docks?” Marigold demanded.

Brandon turned to look at her and then noticed that she was in her nightclothes. And Owen was in the room.

“I will speak with my wife now,” Brandon said, his voice commanding. “Leave.”

Owen looked at him and then at Marigold and then at all the medicine that was brought into the room.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Brandon, I am hurt as well.”

“I am sure you will find a hospitable home and a tender hand to take care of you.”

Owen chuckled and limped towards the door.