Page 52 of Unbound Duchess

“I will always help you, Madalene,” Solomon quipped as he held out a hand to her. “Out of a carriage. Into a party. Over a cliff.”

As if her laughter was too much to stifle, Ellen let out a snort, surprising them all. An adorable blush stole up her cheeks as she quickly covered her mouth, but her shaking shoulders gave her away.

Christ, could she be any more adorable?

“He is teasing,” Madalene stated, her tone clipped as she took Solomon’s hand.

“Am I?” he mused.

In answer, Madalene lifted his hand up, and with a quickness, pinched him under his arm.

“Devil woman,” Solomon hissed as he jumped back.

“Big baby,” Madalene shot back through her wide, satisfied grin.

“Are they always like this?” Ellen asked Laurence as Solomon and Madalene began to bicker.

“We all have a…deep love for another,” Laurence explained, his eyes darting from his wife to his best friend and sister. “Sometimes that love comes out in a variety of ways. Do not worry though; they would never cause any actual harm.”

“It must be so nice,” Ellen sighed, “to have something like that.”

Laurence’s gaze was kind as he gently pressed his hand into her lower back, a silent urge to start walking with him toward the party.

“You have something like that now,” he assured her.

She glanced up at him, as if unsure that was true.

“Even if our marriage was one of convenience, you are family now. One of us. And there is nothing that can take you away from that,” he promised her.

Ellen’s smile made his heart throb, but even so, a sliver of sadness moved through his enlarged organ as he saw a tinge of doubt in her eyes. Perhaps it was not enough to tell her such things. Perhaps he had to show her. He just had to figure out how.

“There he is,” Solomon said, his deep voice quiet as his gaze darted toward the stairs.

Laurence followed his friend’s gaze, looking over the sea of elegantly dressed guests and up the stairs, where, sure enough, he saw Benedict. He was leaning casually against the banister of the landing halfway up the wide staircase, talking with a strikingly familiar man, even though Laurence could not quite place his face.

Then, suddenly, it hit him. Laurence didn’t know the man’s face because he had been wearing a mask. He did, however, recognize the man’s rotund figure because he was one of the men who had tried to win Ellen’s bid.

Rage poured through Laurence’s veins, tightening every muscle.

“Ouch,” Ellen softly gasped.

Laurence tore his gaze from Benedict only to look down at Ellen. Her beautiful face was clouded with a hint of pain, and it was only then that he realized that not only did he still have his hand on her, but that it had drifted down to her backside and was currently holding it with an iron grip. At once he released her, and could not help but smooth his palm down the soft flesh beneath her skirts, hoping to soothe the pain away.

“My deepest apologies,” he offered, embarrassment making the tips of his ears feel hot. “I swear I did not—are you alright?”

A beautiful pink flush filled Ellen’s cheeks as she looked up at him and offered him a small smile.

“I shall survive,” she replied.

He returned her small smile, hoping that his apology was apparent in his gaze.

“I do not believe he has seen Ellen yet,” Solomon said. “This would be a good chance to throw him off guard. Plus, Madalene is off over there chatting with friends. She’s distracted and will not pull our concentration.”

His voice had Laurence and Ellen both quickly turning back to him, as if they’d both forgotten that not only was he there, but that they were in a very public place. Realizing that his hand was still stroking her bruised bottom, Laurence quickly pulled away and gripped his wrists behind his back.

“Right now?” Ellen asked, her tone hesitant as she glanced toward her cousin.

“The only time we have is the present,” Solomon gently insisted. “We do not know how long he’s already been here. Or how long he’s planning to stay. This could be our only chance.”