Page 12 of The Duke's Sinful Bride

Yvette forced herself to nod, turning her attention back to the window. But the tension lingered, an invisible thread connecting them even as they returned to their respective silences.

And, for the first time since the wedding, Yvette wondered if surviving this marriage of convenience would be as simple as she had thought.

Yvette stirred awake to the gentle tapping on her shoulder. She blinked several times, her vision adjusting to the evening view of the setting sun outside the carriage.

The carriage, which had been rocking steadily for hours, was now still. Her gaze shifted upward to find the duke standing over her.

“We are stopping at an inn for the night,” he informed her, his tone as matter-of-fact as ever.

Without waiting for a response, he stepped out of the carriage.

Yvette followed him, stepping onto the gravel road, where the late evening air was cooler than she expected.

She shivered a little, rubbing her arms slightly.

Her gaze rose to take in the inn before them. It was a modest structure of wood and stone, with ivy crawling up one side. Its thatched roof sagged slightly in the middle, and warm golden lights spilled out of its small windows. A wooden sign swayed gently in the breeze, bearing the unreadable name of the inn, and showing the building had seen better days.

Their footmen remained outside speaking to the stable boys about the care of their horses and carriage, while Yvette followed closely behind the duke.

When they entered the inn, Yvette’s eyes instantly adjusted to the warm glow of the lanterns hanging from the wooden roof. The interior smelled faintly of ale and roasted meat. A stout, balding innkeeper with ruddy cheeks greeted them with a polite bow and a smile.

“My lord, my lady,” he said, his tone respectful but curious. It wasn’t every day a nobleman and his wife stopped at such an unassuming establishment.

Her husband wasted no time. “We’ll need three rooms for the night.”

The innkeeper hesitated, then scratched the back of his head. “I’m afraid I’ve only two rooms left, my lord. Business has been good, and there’s been no shortage of travelers.” He gestured apologetically to the narrow staircase at the back of the wide space. “They are fine rooms, but one had two single beds and the other only one bed.”

Yvette felt her cheeks flush. She glanced at the duke, waiting for him to argue or demand better accommodations.

Instead, he simply nodded. “Very well. Prepare the two-bed room for our footmen. My wife and I will take the other one.”

She stiffened. “Surely there must be another inn nearby,” she said, her eyes fixed on the man.

The innkeeper shook his head. “Not for miles, my lady. The road ahead is dark, and you’ll find no finer lodging this late.”

Without further debate, Killian handed the man some coins for the two rooms, one belonging to them and the other belonging to their footmen and gestured for Yvette to follow him. She didso reluctantly, her unease growing with each step up the creaky wooden staircase.

The room they entered was small but clean. A modest four-poster bed with a faded quilt sat in the center of the space, with a simple wooden chest and a washstand nearby. A single window overlooked the forested road behind the inn, and the faint hum of voices from the common room below was muffled but audible.

The duke’s sharp eyes found Yvette, quickly noticing her discomfort as she stared at the bed.

“I shall sleep on the floor,” he said, closing the door behind them.

“Good,” she replied quickly, folding her arms. “Because I am not sharing the bed with you.”

His lips twitched into the faintest smirk before he bowed his head.

“As my wife wishes.”

Without another word, he stepped out of the room to allow her privacy to change after their belongings were brought up.

Yvette let out a sigh of relief, setting her satchel on the bed and rummaging for her nightdress. She changed quickly, feeling oddly exposed despite being alone.

When he returned, she noticed immediately that he avoided looking at her for whatever reason, his gaze fixed firmly on the floorboards as he crossed the room.

She’d sat on the edge of the bed, adjusting her belongings, when the sound of rustling fabric behind her caught her attention.

She turned, startled, to find the duke pulling his shirt over his head.

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