Page 100 of An Unwanted Spinster for the Duke
He scanned the trees, remembering the lurker he had spotted earlier. Whoever it was, they were already long gone. Still, Dominic was certain that what had just happened was not random.
It was Linpool.
Who else could it be?
There was a time when the Viscount could not find a weakness in him. He had nobody. But now, he was married—and Marianne was a much stronger woman than his mother. She knew how to avoid men like Linpool, and the latter would not like it.
Marianne was the target. She had to be. It was a means for Linpool to hurt him, and he was an idiot—he certainly was. He had let his guard down and let passion rule over him. One kiss could now undo him. His need took over his senses.
Dominic rushed back to check on Marianne. He knelt beside her to inspect her again. Yes, she was bruised and pale, but she was also alert. But when he reached for her hands, she winced.
Something was wrong, he knew. There was blood on her gloves, and he did not have time to check on her hands earlier.
“Please let me remove your gloves, Marianne,” he said, his voice hoarse.
“I-I…” she stammered, but she gave him her hands.
He gently peeled off her gloves, his breath held and his eyes focused. Then, he saw them. Scraped palms. Her hands were not the softest, being a rider’s hands, but they were still a lot more delicate compared to his.
“I’m so sorry,” he croaked, as if he had done this to her.
It felt like it. The enmity between him and Linpool would continue until something terrible happened—something worse than this.
“For what?” she asked, meeting his eyes with her wide ones.
“I should have seen it coming. I have been too careless. Too blind. That man is not just toying with you or me. He’s not just trying to control you. This time, he is trying to frighten you and, as a result, me. It could have been worse. He is capable of it,” he prattled nervously. Uncharacteristically.
Marianne stared at her husband in disbelief at first. Then, realization dawned on her.
“You think it was Linpool,” she said.
It was not a question. She had read his eyes. It was another thing that he was getting weaker at. His defenses were falling apart in front of her.
“I know it was,” he declared.
“Then we need to tell someone,” she said, ever logical.
“We can’t do that yet. We are not certain. Well, I know he did it, but I don’t have proof. But from now on, you can’t go anywhere else without me. Or perhaps you should stay in London.”
Dominic could think of many more ways to keep her safe. If only he could carry her with him, or place her in a corner. But she was a living person, someone who was used to having her own adventures. Someone independent.
“You’re not my keeper, Your Grace,” she said defiantly, reverting to formalities.
Bruised she might be, but she was every bit as defiant with her tilted chin and blazing eyes. Never mind that she was still sitting on the grass.
“I may not be your keeper,” Dominic reminded her in a steely voice, “but I am your husband. Linpool will have to go through me if he wants to harm you.”
And that was final.
At least, in his head.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Marianne had not seen Dominic smile in days. He had not done so since the crash. She had expected him to be worried, but she had not expected him to just turn to silence.
At that moment, he sat across from her in the breakfast room. His posture was rigid, but that was nothing new. Still, it was not what she had expected from him—not anymore. Not after the passion he’d shown her.
Could he just not touch his tea or not spare her a glance?
