The Duke is Wicked (League of Lords #3) - Tracy Sumner Page 0,53

sigh, he watched them spirit Delaney away, praying his heart, his hopes, his future wasn’t leaving with her.

Hours later, Delaney woke from a dreamless sleep to find her jaw throbbing, her head aching. She blinked, moonlight a bright blemish across her bed, the canopy and pale pink curtains adorning it. Rising to her elbow, she groaned, the tumble from her mount returning in grainy images, as indistinct as a faded photograph. The woman she’d seen before she’d taken her fall—antiquated attire, a haunted expression—someone Delaney suspected could be the answer to the riddle of who was blackmailing her.

Minnie, the maid Sebastian had paid handsomely to serve her, dozed on the chaise lounge, her faint snores filling the bedchamber, the knife in her fist glinting in the firelight. Only in this duke’s employ was everyone, even down to a humble maid, trained in weaponry. Minnie had thrown it, hitting the target they’d drawn on the wall, from ten paces, dead center.

A reliable protector, indeed.

Delaney let herself settle into the present, hoping the pain in her jaw would subside with her breathing. The crackle of a fire in the hearth, the flutter of draperies against the window frame.

The whine of an animal.

Her head snapped up, and she gingerly slid from the bed. No, he hadn’t.

But he had.

There was no note. Just a towering basket and a wriggling puppy, tongue lolling from its mouth, drool clinging to its chin. It was the same one she’d fallen for in the duke’s stable earlier. Male, she decided with a giggle as she peeked between its hind legs.

A squirming bundle of delight, the kindest gift she’d ever been given.

Sliding to her knees, Delaney reached into the basket, clutched the puppy to her breast and closed her eyes against the emotion tunneling through her soul, inroads she feared were permanent. It was the first time since arriving in England that she’d experienced the faintest flicker of belonging, which was absurd. Of coming home. When her home was a barren townhouse in a city she didn’t like, a city that didn’t like her.

The compassionate look on Sebastian’s face as he’d carried her to his horse flooded her vision. The way he’d touched her. Like she was breakable—when she could’ve told him she’d been thrown from her mount a hundred times.

He, too, was in the midst of a storm. But he’d eventually step out of his fury with a wife, friends, the League, this enchanting castle. While she…

A tear streaked down her cheek and her new pet, because she wasn’t giving him up, leaned to lick it away. She was asking for cruel rejection, harboring silly feelings for a man close to committing to another. Not in his heart, but his mind. Honor and duty, centuries of history and family obligation an American couldn’t possibly understand. Add to that Kitty’s supernatural gift, and it secured the package perfectly. They would make a beautiful family, even without love, a portrait Sebastian could hang in his gallery. A painting his children could discuss, his grandchildren.

For one mad moment, Delaney hated them all.

Because she wasn’t by random chance an earl’s daughter, a viscount’s niece, a baron’s sister. She had none of the blue blood the ton desired flowing through her veins.

Consequently, even if she did want Sebastian Tremont, he wasn’t hers to take.

A short way down the deserted hallway…

“What is that infernal yipping?” Finn growled and shoved a pillow over his head, sending a feather from the counterpane gliding to the floor.

Victoria smoothed her hand over her rounded tummy, her babe’s kicking, the thing keeping her up, not the dog. She stared at the ceiling, guessing a cup of chamomile tea might settle her unborn treasure. “It’s the puppy Sebastian gave Miss Temple, silly.”

Finn rolled to face her, tossing the pillow off the bed. “The what he gave her?”

Victoria awkwardly rolled to her side and cupped her husband’s stubbled jaw. How she loved this dear, daft man. “One of the duke’s mongrels had a litter of mongrels, and after Miss Temple’s fall, the duke sneaked a puppy into her room. After pacing outside the chamber like an expectant father until the physician assured him she was going to be fine.”

Finn laughed and propped his cheek on his fist with a glowing smile that twisted her heart. His stark beauty was a crime. “He’s in love. Finally. Damn, I’m going to have fun with this.”

Victoria shoved him, pushing him to his back. “Stay out of it. At least for the moment. He thinks