Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
S unlight filtered through the broken window slats, illuminating the lovers within.
Damian was the first to stir. He frowned at the unfamiliar weight on his biceps but soon realized it was Gwendoline. His face softened, and his body relaxed again. He felt well rested. Calm. Satiated.
Gwendoline was sleeping soundly, her hair fanned out on his arm. Her eyelashes grazed her cheeks, and her lips were slightly parted. Damian had never seen her so peaceful and so pliant. He couldn’t help but smile.
But as soon as he realized what he was doing, he took a deep breath and schooled his features.
He had been with several women before, but he had never felt like he did with Gwendoline. There was physical pleasure, of course, but there was something else. The moment he was about to take her maidenhead, he was concerned more about her comfort, not his wants. He was never a brute with women, but he knew that the women he had taken to his bed could take anything.
Contrary to popular belief, he was more disciplined than people thought. He avoided women at high risk of diseases and made arrangements with some of them for a time. He used French letters and vinegar washes.
It was never a pleasant affair.
He scrunched up his face when he thought of Lord Edelwood, who had come down with various ailments. At least, that was what the gossips said. Damian knew better than to trust Edelwood, but he also knew that the man was likely to catch a disease from the women he cavorted with.
Fallen women of the ton. Secret rebels.
He couldn’t help but wince at the dangerous way he had behaved before marrying the beautiful woman beside him. He was relieved he didn’t have to concern himself with other women again.
Gwendoline might be strong, but she was not like those women. She had been sheltered so that she would be more attractive when dangled over lecherous bastards whose only virtues in life were money and titles. Some didn’t even have either.
Damian’s cock twitched when he remembered how his wife had taken him well. He remembered seeing proof of her innocence on his length. Pride bloomed in his chest at the thought that he was the first to show her the pleasures of making love.
Love? Huh. Perhaps she was the first to make him reconsider the word. Lust was a more familiar feeling when he used to roll from one bed to another.
Mine. She’s all mine.
With his innocent wife cocooned in his embrace, Damian felt as peaceful as ever. Unfortunately, his peace was short-lived.
The door creaked open, and for once in his life, he couldn’t react as quickly as he would have liked.
“Good morning, lovebirds!” Evan greeted in a voice that could startle the dead.
His hair was still sticking at odd angles after a possibly restless night in God knew what kind of chamber. He even gave a sunny, knowing smile that grated on Damian’s nerves.
Yes, Damian was annoyed, but he was also surprised that he wasn’t furious. He quickly pulled a blanket over Gwendoline and shot Evan his best scowl.
“Get out, Drake!”
“I see the storm wasn’t the only thing that was raging,” Evan teased, grinning widely. “I was right to take another room.”
Damian grabbed a cushion and hurled it at his man, wondering when he had ever allowed such disrespect.
The door closed with a discreet click, contrasting with Evan’s laughter in the hallway.
“Get dressed!”
Damian shook his head in disbelief and rested his head back on the rug. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but it was cozy because of the fire in the hearth and the heat of the woman beside him.
And the woman? She was now fully awake.
Damian turned his full attention to his wife, who was trying to muffle her laughter under the blanket. Her shoulders shook with mirth. He had never seen her eyes dance like they did at that moment, and he felt a pang of regret for the times he had rejected even her friendship.
He was a fool.
“You find this amusing, huh, Gwendoline?” he asked gruffly, but he couldn’t help but smile.
He had never had much use for those muscles in his cheeks for a long time—until she came along. To his credit, Evan had made life easier with his sunny disposition and crude jests, but they didn’t compare to what Gwendoline was doing to him.
Something passed over her face when he uttered her name, but she quickly schooled her features. He felt disappointed at how she quickly disguised her feelings. Was that what she had been doing all along?
“A little,” she admitted, a slow smile spreading across her face.
Damian didn’t know what he would do if she had woken up regretting everything that transpired between them.
“Oh, you’re going to get it next, wife,” he whispered playfully in her ear.
Her giggles turned into a gasp as he pulled her back into his arms. It was refreshing and surprising how it was so much easier to give in to the feeling this time and that it was the same with her.
They remained in that room, on the rug, forgetting the outside world. Forgetting Evan. Forgetting even Montrose.
For a moment.
The last remnants of the storm were gone, so it was safe to get back on the road. The grounds were still damp from the rain, and the leaves fluttered in the wind.
Gwendoline could not understand why everything looked more vivid than before. She even saw the beginnings of a rainbow, its colors bright against the slightly dull sky.
Thinking back to the night before, her cheeks pinkened. She had not been expecting what had happened, but she also could not bring herself to regret it. Damian had been both passionate and gentle with her.
He had called her by her first name the night before and even in the morning when they indulged in another round. She was still sore, but he had been very patient with her.
She was no longer a maiden, and her transition into womanhood had not happened the way she had expected. She thought she would have to endure it. She thought it would be painful—and it was, for a short while. She thought it would be merely a woman’s responsibility to give birth to heirs. She didn’t know it could bring her so much pleasure.
Her mind reeled from all the possibilities, making her nipples harden under her thick garb.
The clip-clop of horses’ hooves broke into her reverie, and she held her mare’s reins tighter as the serious conversation on either side of her drifted to her ears. She should stop thinking about the night before.
Evan was a sharp man who would immediately know where her thoughts were heading. The idea was horrifying.
“It wasn’t a trap at all,” Damian murmured thoughtfully. “Even the records I checked earlier looked genuine. Both your source and my visitor can be trusted—at least up to a certain point.”
“You were able to check the records earlier?” Evan teased, wiggling his eyebrows and looking at him with that same grin he’d been wearing when he walked in on the married couple in an indecent position.
He didn’t seem to notice that Gwendoline was watching them.
“I was,” Damian insisted, looking only slightly annoyed.
Gwendoline stifled a giggle at the look on her husband’s face. While he wasn’t exactly smiling, there was something lighter about him.
At least, she hoped that she was reading him right.
“I, uh, saw a bit of it. It looked genuine. Timothy would arrange his documents like that. Arranging them by rank then alphabetically sounds like him. He also recorded the amount of money going in and going out. He’s a criminal, apparently, but he’s also fastidious. My father thought he was a blessing to the family because of his skills with ledgers.”
Damian raised an eyebrow at her, looking perfectly unconvinced.
Gwendoline sighed. Yes, her cousin was undoubtedly not a blessing to her family. He was the harbinger of its doom, and he didn’t even care for her as another man in his position would have.
It was a shame that her father couldn’t see the full extent of Timothy’s depravity. He was simply eager to pass on his estate and title to a man he thought would take care of his daughter.
“All right, he wasn’t a blessing,” she admitted, blinking back angry tears. “However, I would love to see the documents again, later. I am part of this now. I followed you both without getting into trouble. I helped you find the documents, and now I’m traveling back to Greyvale with you. There’s no way the two of you would not let me help you further.”
Gwendoline felt Damian’s gaze on her, but he didn’t comment.
“She has a point,” Evan murmured. “While the duchess is not expected to challenge Montrose to a duel, she knows him better than we do.”
A lengthy silence fell over them as they turned onto a narrower path. Gwendoline had almost gotten swept up by the beautiful scenery ahead of them. It was a wonder that after the storm, there was a lot to look at—look forward to.
They did have to ride in single file with Evan in front, Gwendoline in the middle, and Damian at the back.
It was Damian’s silent preference.
The flowers and grass looked jeweled, still wet with raindrops and glistening under the sun. The air was crisp, and the moist earth was inviting, reminding Gwendoline of the times she played outside during and after a storm. She blinked her eyes as her chest tightened.
If only her mother were still alive. What would she think of Damian? What would she think of her child being roped into a forced marriage, only to feel like she had finally discovered something beautiful?
“Are you familiar with Lord Marston?” Damian asked.
Gwendoline was startled that her husband was directly asking her about anything related to their investigation.
“His name is in the documents.”
Their investigation. She was part of it now, and it made her heart swell. She would not disappoint them. Like them, she wanted to take revenge on her cousin.
“From what I know, he is friends with Timothy. Some may say he is a very close ally.”
“Mm. Well, they are more than just friends, that is for sure. There is a consistent money trail from Hargrove to Montrose.”
“I am no longer surprised by anything we discover about my cousin,” Gwendoline said drily.
“Well, the duchess has certainly provided us with reliable information. We have some people working for us, but the facts you shared, Your Grace, are priceless,” Evan remarked.
Gwendoline might not be able to see his face, and she was indeed focused on the rocky path ahead, but she felt warm all over, even though the air was chilly.
She wanted Damian to like her. She also realized that she wanted his friends to like her. Evan had taken her side before, but it felt more momentous this time—perhaps because he also had her husband’s approval.
“I know how Timothy operates. You may be thinking, how is that even possible? Well, I don’t know if he was involved in criminal dealings, but I know his habits and preferences,” she explained, flushing slightly when she realized that she had been talking so earnestly.
She was glad that they couldn’t see each other’s faces at that point.
“Good work,” Damian praised, sounding very proud of her.
Gwendoline bit her lower lip and smiled. The rest of the journey home was smoother, with the sun smiling brightly down at them.