Page 61 of Duke of Wickedness
He wasjealous.
He’d had all the best intentions. He was going to bring Ariadne to the party, and he was going to see what interested her the most. And then, he was going to use that knowledge to help her find someone who was looking for a real partner, not just a dalliance. Ariadne was on the marriage market; she was looking for a husband. She could end up with some useless milksop like Hershire—though notliterallyHershire; that would happen over David’s goddamned dead body—or she could end up in a satisfying marriage with someone who understood her.
Someone who saw her curiosity as the gift it was. Someone who would show her everything she wanted to see.
Someone who would understand that Ariadne was not just some typical miss, someone who would appreciate her properly.
It was a good plan. A reasonable plan.
And somehow he had ended up abandoning the plan, taking her upstairs—to theprivate places of his home—and pleasuring her.
He had gotten her all to himself, and still, he was jealous. Jealous, because he’d seen how many covetous eyes rested upon her. Jealous about her hypothetical future partner—the one that he himself had planned to introduce her to.
It was ridiculous.Ridiculous.
Yet, here he was.
“What has put you in such a dour mood?” Percy asked, peering at him.
David shot him a rude gesture, which, to his dismay, made Percy grin.
“My, my, my. David Nightingale. Is it awoman?”
“You may have forgotten this,” David snapped, knowing he was being unreasonable but completely unable to stop himself, “but not all of us are enjoying blissful matrimonial constraints. Women are complicated.”
Percy opened his mouth, then closed it again.
“Oh, just say it,” David commanded tiredly.
It wasn’t as though he could escape his problems, not when they lived inside his own head. He’d fled his house because everywhere he’d looked, he’d seen Ariadne.
In his study, sprawled across his settee, languid after her pleasure. In his library, cheeks flushed with excitement as she praised his collection. In his parlor, curious and open as she watched his guests indulge their desires.
She’d been a ghost. She’d haunted him.
“Well, I have two observations, actually,” Percy said. David waved a hand, urging him to get on with it. It wasn’t as though he could getmoremiserable. “First, it is that you are an idiot.”
“Oh,thank you, you aresohelpful?—”
“Because,” Percy went on, “women do not become less complicated once you marry them. But if you ever decide to put this theory to my wife—that matrimony has made hersimple—please do so while I’m there. I want to see how hard she hits you.”
David scoffed. “Catherine would neverhitme. She’s much too subtle for that. She would destroy me in a way that was much more painful than a blow to the chin. I’d never see it coming.”
Percy spread his hands. “You’re likely right, but we cannot say for sure. And do you know why? Because she remains complex and mysterious, even to me. It’s part of the joy of the thing.”
“Before I lose you to your raptures, what was the second thing?”
David couldn’t listen to Percy talk about how happy he was with his wife. He just couldn’t. The whole thing was unpalatable to him at the best of times—happily married people were always sosurethat others could be like them, despite the overwhelming deluge of evidence to the contrary in every corner of theton—but now, he simply could not stand it.
Especially because Percy was waxing delighted about the other Lightholder sister, which really didn’t help.
Percy looked at him like he had walked right into a trap.
“Well, my second suggestion would be that you try it.”
“Seaton, I try to protect you from the details, but if you think there isanythingthat you have tried that I haven’t?—”
“Marriage,” Percy interrupted. “I think you should consider trying marriage.”
