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Of course.

The tabby quickly curled up on the velvet, acting like she owned the chair. Her tail swayed lazily while she eyed him. He imagined the gaze was judgmental, although that would be foolish.

He frowned at the scene before him. Instead of feeling annoyed and shooing the cat away as would have been expected of him, he felt a sense of loss. That knot in his stomach remained tightly coiled. Then, he spotted the butler, who was not often there, and knew something was terribly wrong.

“Where is the Duchess?” he inquired in a tight voice. His throat felt raw, like it had razors in it.

The butler stood at attention and responded, “Her Grace left early this morning, Your Grace. She had mentioned visiting her family.”

Dominic’s heart skipped a beat. So, she had decided to defy him. He should have known, based on her character. Perhaps he should have approached her last night, talked to her more gently.

“Did Her Grace say when she would be returning?” he asked, trying to keep his tone neutral.

“No, Your Grace. There was no specific time provided,” the butler replied.

The older man was trained not to show any emotion or opinion, but his eyes flickered with a hint of sadness. Or perhaps Dominic was imagining it?

He squeezed his eyes shut, and the events from the day before replayed in his mind.

He had demanded so many things from his wife. For him, it was all about her safety. For her, it was all about her freedom. He had not been willing to compromise, however, and it had all ended with harsh words and her tear-filled eyes. She had left the room with such finality that he should not have been surprised by the dismal morning after.

Dominic took a deep breath. He calmed himself down with the reminder that his wife was at Grisham townhouse. She was right in the middle of London, surrounded by the people she loved the most—her sisters.

Would Linpool even attempt anything with so many eyes watching? Would he orchestrate another carriage accident?

It did not seem likely, since the Viscount should know that more caution would be exercised now. Still, unease suffocated Dominic like a heavy cloak.

Marianne stepped out of the carriage in front of her father’s townhouse. Her gloved hands trembled slightly. What was she doing here?

The townhouse’s exterior was made of stone. It was hard and cold like her father.

She adjusted the bonnet to cover the bruise on her cheek. She was still in some pain, but the pain of being rejected by her husband was worse. Her palms still stung, but at least her gloves hid them.

She took a deep breath before she ascended the steps and knocked.

The door opened quickly, slightly startling her. The butler also looked surprised.

“Your Grace, we weren’t expecting you,” he said kindly, taking her luggage from her.

“I wish to see my family,” she murmured.

She stepped inside, without the need for further invitation. The butler looked a little hesitant, and she could not blame him.

“Very well, Your Grace. They are in the drawing room.”

Marianne didn’t think anything was out of the ordinary. She just did not emphasize that she wanted to see her sisters instead of her father because that did not sound proper, even to a butler who knew how family members interacted with each other.

The familiar corridors evoked some childhood memories, both pleasant and horrible. Her approach was more uncertain with every step, her legs heavy.When she drew nearer to the drawing room, she heard voices within.

“I must say, Lord Linpool, that I agree with your insights on the latest political developments. Your business acumen should also be recommended,” her father said, sounding smug, not knowing what kind of man he was dealing with.

Linpool? What is he doing here?

Her blood ran cold at the idea of being close to the man after what she’d discovered about him and what Dominic suspected of him.

Still, she was here. There was no turning back. The thought of going back to Dominic made her chest hurt.

She blinked back her tears and pushed the door open.