Page 84 of An Unwanted Spinster for the Duke
Lord Grisham looked as sharp as ever, though he was greying faster these days. His expression was impassive, his hair meticulously combed back. But his eyes darted from Linpool to Dominic to Elizabeth and back again. He was calculating, plotting.
Marianne knew that look all too well.
“Ah, my dear daughters,” he announced, his voice full of faux enthusiasm. “I see you’ve been enjoying Lord Linpool’s company. I’ve known the man for years—one of the most charming fellows I know.”
He clapped the Viscount on the back, then offered a civil nod to Dominic.
Marianne recognized the gesture for what it was: a calculated balance. Her father could not afford to offend the Duke of Oakmere, no matter how chummy he acted with Linpool.
“I’m glad you’ve joined us, Your Grace,” Linpool said, seemingly unbothered. “I was just telling your lovely wife how delightful our conversation had been.” He turned to Marianne. “Did you know, Your Grace, that I knew your husband when he was younger?”
The pressure around her waist increased. Dominic’s hand remained in place—unyielding, possessive. He vibrated with tension, and she could no longer bear the performance.
This gathering, this garden party, had become a battlefield of veiled insults and unspoken truths.
What is happening?
Elizabeth merely arched an eyebrow, her gaze flicking to the hand on her sister’s waist. Dominic didn’t seem to notice. His jaw was tense, his eyes trained on the Viscount.
History. There was history here.
Another mystery for Marianne to uncover, like the locked west wing.
“We should join the other ladies,” she blurted, lying through her teeth.
She had no desire to mingle with most of the women present, and Elizabeth detested confrontation even more than she did. Still, her sister caught on quickly and offered no objection.
“Oh, what a lovely idea,” Linpool said cheerfully. “They should see how gracious and charming you both are. If they feel jealous… well, let them.”
“I don’t care what they think,” Marianne replied, sincere this time.
There was a period in her life when she did care. But lately, she’d realized how little people’s opinions mattered. There was a strange advantage to having been raised by Lord Grisham: no one else could rattle them like he could.
Except her husband.
Dominic troubled her in an entirely different way.
Once they were finally out of earshot, Elizabeth released a sigh and said with a mischievous smile, “Do you not see it? The Duke ispossessiveof you, Marianne. Like a lion guarding his mate.”
“A lion?” Marianne laughed. “Lions haveseveralmates, Lizzie.”
“Still,” Elizabeth said, amused, “heislike a lion. The way he looked at Linpool—he was ready to pounce.”
Marianne thought about the heat of his hand, the storm in his eyes. She caught Elizabeth watching her closely, as if trying to decipher something unspoken.
“I feel like he was threatened,” Elizabeth added softly. “Threatened enough to come closer to you. I have never seen him so…expressive. Is he always like that?”
“Why would he be threatened by Lord Linpool?” Marianne asked, though her pulse quickened. “He had no reason to be. We have a business arrangement. Apologies—heandFatherhad a business arrangement. Sometimes I forget I’m just a powerless woman in all of this.”
Elizabeth’s face clouded over. “Hmm. You may be right.” Her voice was quiet. Resigned.
Marianne hated to hear it. She had come to London to be with Elizabeth. Not for Linpool’s antics, and certainly not for Dominic’s dark, brooding jealousy.
And yet, for the first time in a long while, she found herself wondering what it meant to bewanted.
And what Dominic might be hiding behind that simmering silence.
Back in their London townhouse, Marianne finally found an opportunity to speak to her husband.
