Page 27 of Unbound Duchess

Ellen’s shoulders lowered, and she looked down at the plain but pretty blue dress she was wearing.

“This came from you, then?” she asked, gripping the skirts. “And the food left at my door?”

Laurence gave a curt nod.

“I did not know your measurements, but I wagered you were close to my sister’s,” he replied. “As for the food, it was delivered by my man, who, as I said, was watching over you to ensure that we were not followed.”

Ellen was quiet as she took in the information, wishing she had known earlier. If she had, maybe she could have used the last few days to catch up on sleep—something that had eluded her since her father had died and Benedict had moved into their home. Still, she could not help but feel grateful that someone had been watching over her, even if she had not seen them in return.

“Thank you,” she answered quietly. She drew her gaze slowly back up to Laurence’s handsome face. As usual, he appeared on the brink of anger, and she wondered why she’d shivered at Benedict’s smile but felt a sense of comfort when she looked upon Laurence’s straight lips and tight jaw. “For everything.”

“Mm,” Laurence merely grunted, his gaze flicking around the cottage.

“It is time to go,” he said a moment later. “I have arranged for our wedding to take place at a nearby church. My friend, Solomon, shall bear witness, but other than that, we will not be having any guests or even a reception. I apologize for the lack of celebration.”

“Do not,” Ellen quickly countered. “I despise large affairs. It is far more suitable to my tastes that we have a more intimate wedding.”

She could have sworn Laurence’s green eyes darkened, and his jaw clenched a little tighter as she said the word intimate, but just like in the carriage, she took one blink, and those subtle differences were completely gone.

“Once we are married, I will take you to my estate in Blackford,” Laurence explained, his tone clipped but polite. “It is not far from here. I was hoping that you would be able to find some sort of peace here, but I see now that I was mistaken in keeping your guard a secret, and you have not rested much. I hope once you are settled in your quarters at the estate, you will be able to…” He seemed to struggle for the proper word.

“Sleep,” he said at last.

Ellen let out another dry laugh as she reached up to place her hand over the mole on her cheek.

“Do I look so awful?” she asked.

Laurence grimaced, but only for a moment.

“Not awful,” he answered, kindness making his eyes shine a little brighter. “Just tired. And after what you have been through, no one can blame you for your exhaustion.”

Though it was not necessarily a compliment, Ellen blushed at his words.

“Shall we take our leave to the church?” Laurence asked. “The sooner we are married, the sooner I can get you to the estate, where you will hopefully be able to rest with the knowledge that Benedict can no longer force you to marry him.”

Again, they weren’t the most romantic of words, but even so, Ellen felt a thrill move through her. Benedict’s threats would be forfeited the moment she said her vows to Laurence. He could no longer pursue her or try to force her into marriage once she was Laurence’s. It was one cage for another, she wagered, but at least Laurence’s cage did not house incest or abuse.

Still, she could not help but ask, “Are you sure this is what you want?”

Laurence’s brows shot up, as if he were surprised that his wants were of concern to her.

“I mean,” Ellen pushed on, her fingers twining tighter together, “You could do much better. Your title alone allows you to have a finer choice of ladies among the Ton. You could have someone of better breeding. Or of more remarkable beauty. Or⁠—”

“Stop,” Laurence cut her off, his tone quiet but firm. She glanced up at him, and found his gaze guarded.

“I have made my decision. You need not worry that I am missing some ‘better’ opportunity, as I assure you, I am not. Now, if you please, the priest and Solomon are waiting for us. If my protection is something you still want, let us get to the church and be done with the ceremony.”

Though she did not quite understand why, Ellen found herself comforted by Laurence’s practical, no-nonsense response. It was not romantic, but it was real. There were no worries as to why he would choose her of all people, as there had been with Benedict. It was a simple contract. Laurence would protect her, and in return, she would give him whatever information she could on her cousin.

“I have one more request before I go with you,” she said, “though I understand that I am not in the position to be asking for any more favors.”

Laurence’s lips twitched with amusement, but he gave her a nod, as if urging her to continue.

“My handmaid, Sarah, and my late father’s valet, Jacob, are the ones who helped me escape,” Ellen explained. “I have been terrified for their safety ever since Benedict caught me. If Benedict was comfortable enough to hit me, his betrothed, I cannot imagine what awful things he could be doing to them as punishment for helping me. Please, find it in your heart to find them, and—if they are alive—find room in your household to bring them in. They are good, loyal people, I promise you.”

That darkness settled into Laurence’s sharp gaze yet again as he remained perfectly still for a long moment. Then he gave her a curt nod.

“You will need a handmaid anyway,” he replied, his voice laced with anger, “and I will find something for this Jacob to do. I will send my men out to find them post haste. You have my word.”