Page 85 of Claiming his Cursed Duchess
Adam stepped closer, Claridge’s back almost pressed against the door frame as he used his bulk to box the man in.
“This is far from over. I will find a way to destroy you, once and for all, and when I do, you will wish you had never been born.”
There was a peal of laughter from within the room, and Adam swiftly stepped back, conscious that they were only feet away from whispers and rumors that could spring up at any moment.
Claridge slid away without a word, but the self-important look on his face still clawed at Adam’s insides as he considered what he would do next.
I will not allow this man to beat me, I will find that letter and then Rosaline and I will be free to live our lives as we choose.
Adam froze, the unexpected thought stopping him in his tracks.
When did this marriage of convenience begin to shape how I see my future?
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The ride back to their London townhouse was quiet—too quiet.
Adam watched Rosaline across the narrow space, his eyes moving over her shapely cheekbones and the full lips he wanted to taste so badly, but she did not look at him once.
The trundle of the horse’s hooves was loud as they passed through the streets and Adam’s irritation rose as he waited for her to look in his direction.
When we are alone together, she should always be looking at me.
But Rosaline’s gaze remained fixed on the dark shadows moving past the windows, the chill of the night air biting through the walls of the carriage as they continued on their way.
He shifted in his seat, his knees inches from the folds of her gown and Rosaline’s lips thinned, her gaze fixed on a distant point he could not reach.
Finally, as they drew up to the house and a footman opened the door he held out his hand to assist her in alighting from the carriage, but she did not take it.
His anger slowly consuming him, Adam followed her. He almost trod on her gown, he was so close behind her as she went inside.
He practically threw his hat and gloves at the butler as she made her way to the drawing room without looking back at him.
She entered the room, her shoulders shivering slightly at the chill in the air. There was no fire prepared, and he huffed in exasperation as she turned to him, her eyebrows rising.
“What is the matter?” he barked.
“I am cold,” she retorted. “This house is always freezing,” she said bitterly, turning her back on him and walking to the window as Adam’s patience snapped.
“Do not turn away from me, Duchess.”
Her shoulders stiffened, but still, she did not turn to face him.
“I knew from the beginning that this was not a conventional marriage,” she said bitterly, her voice low and angry. “But I did not expect to hear the reason behind it from my loathsome uncle.”
Adam frowned, ice flooding his veins as he considered what Claridge might have told her.
“Of what are you speaking?” he asked, attempting to feign ignorance when anxiety was rising in his chest, mounting by the second.
What will she do if she learns the truth? Will she leave me?
He could not bear to think of it, which only made his anger increase all the more.
Rosaline spun in place, glaring at Adam venomously.
“Why did you marry me, Adam? Tell me the truth.”
Adam’s jaw clenched. “Because it suited me.”
