Page 43 of A Duchess to Reclaim

Dominic and Hugo both chortled as they rolled their eyes, then turned their attention back to their wives. They did so just in time to see Theo and Seraphina appearing to try to keep Amelia in place, while she, with a frown on her face, seemed to be insisting they let her go.

“That can’t be good,” Hugo muttered, his eyes focused on the concerned look upon his wife’s face.

“Everything was going so well,” Tristan mused, “I wonder what happened?”

“Who was that man?” Dominic asked, following Amelia with his eyes as she headed toward the host’s house.

“What man?” Tristan asked.

“The one they were talking to,” Dominic replied.

“I didn’t notice him,” Tristan replied.

“Me neither,” Hugo confessed.

Dominic let loose a sigh of frustration, then drained his glass.

“Keep an eye on them,” he commanded, heading in the same direction Amelia had left. “Let me know if a man in a grey suit approaches them.”

Despite his darkening mood, Dominic pulled on a charming smile as he made his way through the throng of garden party guests. Most lifted their smiles toward him and waved, some bowed their heads. A small few watched him warily, like he were a wild animal stalking through instead of a man. He made a mental note of those faces, knowing he would deal with them later.

He searched the first floor of the house for Amelia, visiting all of the usual open spots guests may go. The parlor, the sitting room, the library and small gallery the house hosted. But she was nowhere to be found. Next he searched the second floor.

That strange slither of possessiveness slid through him as he pictured opening a bedroom door and finding her with another man. He knew he shouldn’t care. Their marriage was not romantic. But the very idea had his blood pumping and teeth sitting on edge.

But he didn’t find her there either. Or on the third floor. He went back to the first floor, ready to search the kitchens next, when he heard a rhythmic thumping coming from behind a set of double doors just off the kitchen wing. He paused immediately at the door, pressing his ear to it as his hand circled around the knob.

Thump, thump, thump- ouch! Blast it! Thump, thump- uggghhh! Why do men find this enjoyable?

Recognizing Amelia’s voice, Dominic opened the door. His brows rose with curiosity at what he saw. Amelia swiftly turned her head toward him; breathing hard as a suspended punching swayed back and forth before her. Her hands, he noted, were balled up into tight fists, and glimmer of sweat speckled across her brow. He couldn’t help the chuckle that burst from his lips.

“What are you laughing at?” She spat out, still trying to catch her breath.

“I’m still trying to figure that out,” Dominic chuckled, closing the door behind him.

His grin was wide as he approached, not able to help but find the sight he’d walked in on nothing short of comical.

“I suppose I have just never seen a boxer in a dress before,” he said, shaking his head as he stopped before.

She bared her teeth at him, but Dominic raised a pointed finger to the air.

“Actually that’s not true. I persuaded a drunken Everett to wear one during a match, but I must admit he didn’t look as good as you.”

Amelia rolled her eyes at him as she grimaced, then turned back to the swaying punching bag.

“Leave me alone, Dominic,” she said, her tone weary as she brought her fists up again. “I’ll be back out to prove our love to thetonagain in just a moment.”

“Someone said something to you,” he said, ignoring her command.

“Just the usual,” Amelia murmured, then threw a punch into the bag.

He steepled his fingers together before him, watching her with a quiet observance.

“And what is the usual?” He asked smoothly.

“Oh, you know. How talented I must be to gain the attention from a Duke like you. How well trained Roland must have had me to be soappeasingto someone with as much ‘experience’ as you.”

Amelia then seethed out a few angry breaths as she delivered several punches to the bag in a row.

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