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He smiled at her, aware that a feeling bloomed inside of him. It wasn’t something he’d felt before, but it rather changed the way he looked at Marina, and his hand held hers tightly.

God’s wounds… what is this feeling?

CHAPTER13

“She has taken well to this world, hasn’t she?” Michael said as he stood behind James, gesturing at Marina. James had barely taken his eyes off Marina since they had returned to the gambling hall. It was partly because of what was in the letter that made him nervous and also because he couldn’t stop thinking of her and how their relationship was changing.

Three days had passed since the ball, and in that time, he had bent more rules. He spent more than just his dinners with Marina now. He’d even helped her as she planned new redecorating ideas for the dining room, saying it was a little cold. They had decided on some new artwork together, a Constable painting, that was to hang over the dining table.

They’d gone for a ride together that morning too, and he had discovered she was not only skilled but as fine a rider as he. Maybe, if he admitted the truth to himself, she was even better. They had raced, and she had won though he professed more than once that it was down to her horse having the lighter load.

“James?” Michael waved a hand in front of his eyes, trying to get his attention.

“Yes?”

“I was saying, she has taken to the gambling hall well.”

“Yes, she has.” James nodded in agreement. Marina, once more, had accompanied him to the gambling hall. She’d looked over some of the accounts earlier and had even advised him on where he could make some savings before wandering the hall with him.

It was busy tonight with some tables packed too much with gambling men. Their hungry eyes pored over their betting chips, and their jittery fingers reached for fresh cards with eagerness.

Marina walked between them all as if she was watching some performance on stage. James found himself following her at a distance, wanting to make sure she was all right, and Michael trailed behind him.

“You have taken to her quite well too.”

“Enough mischief, Michael.” James levelled a glare at him.

“Come now, no mischief for a second.”

“Are you capable of that?” James asked with a dubious stare. Michael laid a hand on his heart, the picture of honesty.

“Allow me to ask after your happiness, my friend. I know you were worried about this arrangement.” He walked around James and clapped his shoulder. “Yet, if I am not mistaken, what I have seen in your relationship with your wife has been a very promising start. For one thing you are not keeping your distance from her.”

“She’s hard to keep distance from,” James insisted. He looked away from Michael, seeking Marina out again, but he couldn’t see her.

Where did she go?

A little fear creeped in, reminding James of what was in that mysterious letter he had received.

“James? You all right?”

“Michael, she’s gone.” James gripped his friend’s shoulder and spun him around, so he could see the empty space where Marina had been standing, seconds ago.

“Do not panic. It’s your gambling hall! She’s probably in the next room. You search there, and I’ll look in here.” Michael’s buoyant tone helped a little, but it didn’t dissuade the fear completely.

James pushed aside the red velour curtain and stepped into the main entrance hall, plush with chairs and alcohol being served in fine crystal glasses atop silver trays. His eyes darted between the drunkards and the gamblers, searching for any hint of a gown.

That’s when he caught it. A flicker of the Pomona green gown she had been wearing in the corner of the room and her cinnamon hair. She was barely visible, for a man stood in front of her.

James advanced quickly toward them, trying to get closer to Marina. The nearer he got, the more he heard something of their conversation.

“Step aside, sir,” she delivered the order with fervor and gusto, her face coming into view. She’d paled.

“I didn’t know the Duke had hired courtesans,” the man leered, moving toward her. James couldn’t see the man’s face, but the hair was greasy, full of wax.

“He has not. Leave me be.” Marina tried to step past the man, but he grabbed her wrist. The moment the hand was put upon Marina, something snapped in James.

He launched himself forward and snatched the man’s tailcoat, grabbing it so hard that he was forced to release Marina. She stumbled away as James spun the man around and took hold of the lapels of the jacket, holding them so high in the air that he practically lifted the man off the floor. The toes of the man’s boots scraped repeatedly on the floor. James could hear them as their kerfuffle made the room fall quiet, the drunkards turning their heads toward the commotion.

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