The Devilish Duke Read Free Page A

duchess—and would soon bear children. If she couldn’t, then what?
    Fallon showed no evidence of hesitation or concern when he added his name, but neither did he suggest any particular joy. He simply put on his gloves and extended his arm toward her.
    They left the chapel as a couple and immediately encountered their young marriage’s first sign of trouble. Her father strode down the pathway in their direction, Lord Tewksbury fast behind him.
    Her father ignored Fallon and went straight to her. “You haven’t done it yet, have you?”
    “We’ve just been married, if that’s what you mean,” she answered.
    “Bloody hell.” Her father ran his fingers through his golden hair. He’d dressed grandly, as he always did, in the latest fashions, skillfully made. If she’d inherited his looks, she might have attracted a husband the usual way, despite his reputation as a gambler.
    “I didn’t give you permission to marry him,” her father said.
    “My wife doesn’t need your permission.” Fallon eased her behind him, putting himself between her father and her. “She’s a grown woman who came to me freely.”
    “Bloody hell,” her father repeated.
    “I’ll ask you not to use that sort of language in front of my duchess,” Fallon said.
    “I say, can’t we settle this in a civil matter?” Lord Tewksbury said.
    “What’s your business in this, Tewksbury?” Fallon asked.
    Lord Tewksbury reddened and stammered for a second or two. “Friend of the family.”
    “All right then, we’ll do as you suggest.” Fallon gestured up the path toward the manor. “We’ll discuss it over brandy.”
    Her father hesitated, his eyes narrowing as they always did when plotting something. After a bit, he led Lord Tewksbury off, and she and her new husband followed. Wonderful. Now, three men could haggle over her.
    Once in the house, her father managed to get between her and Fallon and pulled her off into a corner.
    “All right, you’ve made a mistake.” He bent close enough to her to surround her in a cloud of his cologne. “We can still fix this if…”
    “If…” she repeated.
    “If he hasn’t…God’s blood, you know what I mean.”
    She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “If he hasn’t taken his right as a husband yet.”
    “Well, has he?”
    “We just got married,” she said. “He hasn’t had time.”
    “Good. We can get it annulled.”
    “I don’t want it annulled,” she answered.
    “Now, listen to me, young lady. You’ve defied me once too often.”
    “Excuse me.” Fallon appeared at the doorway to the sitting room. “We’re in here, if you please.”
    Her father assumed a pleasant smile and allowed her to go ahead of him.
    Once inside the sitting room, Fallon guided her to a settee. He didn’t touch her except for putting her hand on his arm. It wasn’t a tender gesture, but it did mark her as his. She sat, leaving room for him beside her. After pouring brandy for the others, he served himself and brought her a glass of sherry. When he took his place next to her, their legs nearly touched. Odd. She hadn’t been so close to him before except for the encounter in her bedroom the first night.
    Fallon lifted his glass in a toast. “To my wife, Rosalind, Duchess of Fallon.”
    Lord Tewksbury started to raise his glass and then noticed that her father hadn’t joined in. Tewksbury took a deep swallow of the brandy, as if he’d intended that all along and then coughed. The fool. Always around, flattering her father and grabbing for her every time he got a chance. She’d never feel those sweaty fingers on her again.
    Her father tasted his own brandy. “This would, indeed, be a joyous occasion, except for one thing. I’m still in the process of settling on a husband for my Rosalind.”
    “She settled the issue herself.” Fallon stretched out his legs in a gesture meant to seem relaxed. In fact, he was coiled like a cat ready to spring. Even the line of his jaw showed his