Page 16 of Her Sinful Duke

“Oh,” Penelope pressed her hand to her lips. “Well, that’s not good.”

“No,” Charlotte sighed. “But I suppose a man is entitled to one vice after having lost his family.”

Penelope knew the general story of the family she had married into. James had become an orphan at a very early age, leaving him in the care of his grandfather. That was all she knew. That was all she wanted to know. She felt it was a very personal story, a tragedy that should be only shared with a trusted ear. She was not that yet. Perhaps she would someday talk to him about it, but not now.

“I do believe that is true,” she agreed after a moment. “But when he drinks…”

“He is even more amusing than when he doesn’t,” Charlotte reassured her. “If there is any gossip or rumor you don’t know about, you will know shortly after being in his presence.” Charlotte chuckled. “Oh, and if you have a secret, I advise you not to share it with him.”

“I will keep that in mind,” Penelope chuckled herself, reassured about Lord Dunlop and actually a little eager to spend breakfast time alone with him. “Well, I’d better be off then. Thank you again, Lottie.” She hesitated for a moment then took Charlotte’s hands into her own. “Thank you for being a friend in a place where I did not know anyone.”

Charlotte’s eyes teared up a little then she squeezed Penelope back. “I am here for whatever you need me for, Your Grace. Always remember that.”

They exchanged a meaningful glance then Penelope hurried out of her chamber and down the grand staircase, eager to start her day.

CHAPTER9

The duke stood in the courtyard, his sword gripped tightly in his hand as he went through the motions of his morning training. His movements were precise and controlled, each swing of the blade executed with a fluid grace that spoke of years of practice and discipline.

As he moved, his mind wandered to thoughts of his wife, an almost nun he had married just a single day ago. Despite his initial reservations about the arranged marriage, he could not deny the undeniable attraction he felt for her. Her innocence and purity had captivated him from the moment he had laid eyes on her, and now, as he practiced his sword fighting, her image danced in his mind, her delicate features etched into his memory.

With each thrust and parry, the duke found himself growing more and more entranced by the thoughts of his wife. He imagined her standing at the window of her chamber, watching him with wide-eyed wonder as he trained, her gaze filled with admiration and desire. He dared not look up to see whether that was just his imagination or reality.

Suddenly, his focus was interrupted by the arrival of his steward, who rushed into the courtyard, his expression tense as he delivered some troubling news.

“Your Grace, a group of trespassers has been spotted on our estate,” he said, his voice filled with urgency. “They are hunting game on your grounds, despite the strict prohibition against such activities.”

James’ jaw tightened at the flagrant disregard for his estate’s rules. He knew that unauthorized hunting not only threatened the delicate balance of the local wildlife but also undermined his authority as the landowner.

“Gather a team, Milligan, and meet me by the stables in half an hour,” James instructed, realizing that his peaceful morning was over.

Just as they agreed, a little over half an hour later, the duke strode through the dense underbrush, his jaw set in determination as he led his team toward the location where the interlopers were spotted. With each step, his resolve hardened, his anger simmering beneath the surface at the audacity of those who dared to trespass in such a manner on his land.

As they approached the clearing where the hunters were gathered, James’ eyes narrowed, taking in the sight of the group callously slaying game that rightfully belonged to him. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, his presence commanding attention as he confronted the trespassers.

“You there!” he bellowed, his voice cutting through the air like a whip. “By what right do you dare to hunt on my estate?”

The hunters turned to face him, their expressions shifting from surprise to defiance as they recognized the duke and his imposing retinue. One of them, emboldened by drink or arrogance, stepped forward, his gaze meeting the duke’s with insolence.

“We answer to no one,” he retorted, his voice laced with arrogance. “These lands are free for all to hunt as they please!”

James’ eyes blazed with fury at the man’s insolent words, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword.

“No,” James spoke again. “This land belongs to me in the name of my ancestors.”

“I spit on your name!” the man snarled, and that was when James knew that there would be no reasoning with him or the men who were by his side.

Without a word, James motioned to his men, who moved forward with grim determination, their expressions mirroring their lord’s steely resolve.

“Bind them,” James commanded through clenched teeth. “They have been given one chance to admit their folly which they have refused. They have trespassed on my land, and they shall face the consequences.”

With ruthless efficiency, his men seized the hunters, their hands rough as they bound them tightly with thick ropes. The trespassers struggled and protested, but their efforts were in vain against the overwhelming force of the duke’s retinue.

Once they were securely restrained, James approached the leader of the group, his gaze icy and unforgiving. “You thought you could defy me and escape unpunished,” he spat, his voice dripping with disdain. “But you have underestimated the consequences of your actions.”

With a swift motion, he ordered his men to confiscate the hunters’ weapons and belongings, leaving them defenseless and vulnerable in the heart of his domain.

“Your weapons and supplies are forfeit,” he proclaimed, his voice brooking no argument. “Consider them payment for your insolence.”

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