Page 90 of A Virgin for the Ton's Wolf

“If you need help?—”

Scarlett shook her head. “I assure you, I am perfectly fine,” she told her friend firmly. “Let Wolverton see his paramour, if it brings him a measure of peace. I shall enjoy my own pursuits without his interference—as he has promised me.”

Phoebe did not look too convinced, but thankfully, she was tactful enough to stop pressing the issue.

“What are the two of you talking about?” Evelyn asked, her eyes bright with curiosity.

“Oh!” Phoebe looked a little startled but quickly regained her composure. “Nothing much.”

The Duchess of Ashton narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Was that Miss Lambert I saw leaving earlier?”

“I know, right?!” Phoebe pursed her lips in disapproval.

Both women turned towards Scarlett, and she sighed. “Do you expect me to wallow in misery?” she asked with a roll of her eyes.

“Not really,” Evie hedged. “I just thought that you would be…”

“A little less nonchalant about the whole matter,” Phoebe supplied.

Scarlett smiled at her friends, even as the puff pastry she had eaten earlier threatened to make another appearance.

“I know what to expect of this marriage,” she reassured them. “And I do not have unrealistic aspirations for it. The Duke has assured me of my freedom, which is far more than any man would have given me, and for that, I consider us well-matched.”

Scarlett forced the tight smile to stay in place, even as her stomach churned once more. Apparently, beyond her façade, she was not so accepting of the arrangement that Hudson had proposed. It irked her to no end that he was willing to share his bed with a woman outside of marriage but was adamant in his refusal to visit hers. It gnawed at her insides like a seed that took root and now squeezed her heart most abominably.

If that is what he wants, then let him have it!

Later that night, after all their guests had left, after their servants had retired early to allow their new Duke and Duchess the privacy of their first night together, Scarlett locked the door and barricaded her room against her husband.

If only it was that easy to protect her heart from him.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Scarlett opened her eyes and stared unseeingly out the window. The morning sunlight was streaming in a little too harshly, and there were only a few scattered birds calling out to each other. She blinked her sleep-fogged brain to consciousness, her thoughts tangled with the last vestiges of a dream she could not quite remember.

She thought she had heard a knock at her door last night, but she had been too tired from the wedding to pay it any heed.

Wedding?

Her eyes flew open in alarm. Saints above, she was married! To Hudson Barrow, of all people!

And she had locked him out of her bedchamber in a fit of anger when she saw his paramour amongst their wedding guests.

She staggered out of bed and unlocked the door, ringing for her maid as she made her way to the vanity. It must have been sheer luck that he had not decided to come by that evening only to find that his new bride had barricaded her door. Had he known, she feared that he might have broken down the door in his fury.

“Good morning, My La—I mean, Your Grace,” her maid tittered, bringing in an armload of towels.

Scarlett raised her eyebrows. There were more towels than was necessary for her usual morning ablutions.

And then a few more servants walked in, carrying pitchers of steaming hot water all the way to the en suite.

Were they… drawing a bath? Whatever for?

“I gathered Your Grace would prefer a bath.” Ella giggled, her face red. “His Grace said that you were probably tired from… last night.”

Scarlett narrowed her eyes. Oh, really now?

She smiled pleasantly at her maid. “I was a little tired, but I have recovered now. Has His Grace broken his fast already?”

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