Page 100 of Wedded to the Duke of Seduction

“Maybe.” Marina rubbed her temples, feeling a headache coming on. “You should tell Leo,” Caroline urged. “Whatever happened between you, he wouldn’t want you facing this alone.”

Marina’s chest tightened at his name. “I can’t. Not after last night.”

“What happened?” Caroline moved beside her on the settee. “Two days ago, you seemed fine.”

The concern in her friend’s voice broke through Marina’s composure. She told Caroline everything—the watch, Leo’s strange reaction, how he’d pulled away, and finally their confrontation.

“He said he can’t give me what I’m asking for,” Marina finished, fighting tears. “As if loving him was too much to ask.”

Caroline squeezed her hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“The worst part is I still don’t know why. One moment we were happy, really happy, and the next he looked at me like I was a stranger. Like I’d betrayed him somehow.”

“Men can be idiots about their feelings,” Caroline said. “Especially men like Leo who’ve built walls around themselves.”

“I never asked him to be vulnerable. I just wanted him to let me love him.”

“And that’s exactly what scares him, I think.” Caroline sighed. “From what you’ve told me about Felicity and his brother, Leo’s built walls to protect himself. Your love threatens those walls.”

Marina left Caroline’s with a promise to consider telling Leo about the blackmail though she had no intention of doing so. His rejection had cut too deep. The thought of going to him for help, of being a supplicant needing his protection again, was unbearable.

When she returned home that afternoon, Henderson waited in the entrance hall with a grave expression.

“Another delivery for you, Your Grace,” he said, presenting a folded note on a silver tray. “Again, the messenger left without identifying himself.”

Marina’s heart sank as she took it. “Thank you, Henderson. That will be all.”

Alone in her sitting room, she unfolded the paper with shaking fingers. The same crude cut-out letters stared back at her:

BAD IDEA SHOWING THE FIRST NOTE TO LADY CLARKSHIRE. KEEP QUIET OR FACE CONSEQUENCES. BRING 500 POUNDS TO THE ABANDONED THEATER ON DRURY LANE TOMORROW AT MIDNIGHT. COME ALONE OR YOUR SECRET GOES TO EVERY DRAWING ROOM IN LONDON.

Marina collapsed into her chair, cold fear washing through her. The blackmailer had been watching her—had seen her visit Caroline. This wasn’t some distant threat but immediate danger from someone tracking her movements.

For a brief, desperate moment, she considered seeking Leo’s help. Despite everything, she knew he would protect her from this threat.

But the memory of his cold voice,I can’t give you what you’re asking for,stiffened her resolve.

She had survived Henry’s neglect, society’s condemnation, and near-destitution. She would handle this new threat without running to the husband who had made it clear he wanted nothing of her but her physical presence.

Marina moved to her writing desk, unlocking the drawer where she kept her savings—the money Leo didn’t know about, earned from her stories and carefully hoarded against future need. Five hundred pounds would deplete most of her reserve, but she saw no alternative. Once the blackmailer was paid, she could decide her next steps with a clearer head.

As she counted out the notes, a terrible thought occurred to her.

What if payment didn’t end the demands? What if this was merely the beginning of an ongoing extortion?

She would be trading her financial independence for a temporary reprieve with no guarantee that the blackmailer wouldn’t return for more.

Yet what choice did she have? If her identity as the author of the stories became known now, when she and Leo were so publicly estranged, the scandal would be devastating. The ton would assume she had continued writing against his wishes, defying her husband in the most public way possible. Leo’s reputation would suffer along with hers.

Despite everything, she couldn’t bring herself to cause him such embarrassment. It was a weakness she despised in herself—this lingering concern for a man who had rejected her—but she couldn’t deny its existence.

Marina secured the money in a small pouch and returned it to the locked drawer. Tomorrow night, she would face this blackmailer alone as demanded. She would pay the price required to protect her secret, and Leo need never know how close his temporary wife had come to causing him further scandal.

The thought brought little comfort as she prepared for another solitary night in chambers that felt emptier than they ever had before their brief marriage.

The clock in the hall struck midnight as Marina fastened her darkest cloak around her shoulders. She had waited patientlyfor the household to settle into silence, her nerves growing more frayed with each passing hour.

The blackmail note lay burned in the fireplace, its demands seared into her memory. Five-hundred pounds, the abandoned theater on Drury Lane, come alone.

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