Married at 17 to a Cold Husband Who Moved His Mistress In — The Duke Said “Mine”

Chapter 6

The bruise could not be hidden. Not entirely.

By the next afternoon it had darkened into a faint yellow shadow along Rosalind’s cheekbone. Powder softened it, but candlelight was unforgiving, and society was observant when scandal promised entertainment.

She almost refused Lady Marbury’s musical evening. Almost. But refusing invitations only encouraged gossip, and Rosalind had spent six years learning that silence rarely protected a woman.

So she went.

The drawing room glittered with candlelight and polite conversation. Ladies clustered around the pianoforte while a soprano attempted a delicate Italian aria. Rosalind sat near the back beside a marble column — old habits, old corners — yet the moment she entered the room, she felt it. The attention. The whispers rippled softly, not cruel this time, but curious. Because the Duke of Ravensmere had arrived shortly after she had, and everyone knew it.

He did not approach her immediately. Gideon stood across the room speaking to a pair of diplomats as though the discussion required his complete attention, but his gaze found her more than once. Rosalind counted three times before the soprano finished her first song.

The fourth time, their eyes met. And he stopped listening to the diplomats entirely.

A few minutes later, he crossed the room. He did not ask permission to sit. He simply took the chair beside her.

“You should not be here tonight,” he said quietly.

Rosalind blinked. “Why?”

His gaze lifted slowly to her face. The moment he saw the fading bruise, something inside him went very still.

“What happened?” he said softly.

It was not a question. It was a demand, spoken gently.

Rosalind looked away. “I walked into a door.”

His expression did not change. “Try again.”

Silence stretched between them. The music resumed. Somewhere nearby a glass clinked against porcelain, but Gideon did not move. He waited. Finally, Rosalind said quietly:

“It was my husband.”

The words hung in the air like something fragile.

Gideon inhaled slowly. The fury that followed was so controlled it became almost frightening. His hands tightened briefly around the back of his chair.

“Did he strike you once?” he asked carefully. “Or more than once?”

“Twice.”

The word escaped before she could stop it. His jaw tightened. The room seemed to grow colder around them.

Rosalind hurried to speak again. “It is nothing new.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

Gideon turned toward her fully, his voice lowered. “That is precisely the problem.”

She swallowed. “You cannot interfere in a marriage.”

“I can interfere in cruelty. In England, it is the same thing.” His gaze softened slightly. “No,” he said quietly. “It is not.”

Rosalind studied him carefully. “You cannot ruin a man because he mistreats his wife.”

“I can ruin a man for many reasons,” Gideon replied calmly. “And I happen to possess several.”

Despite herself, she almost smiled. Then the weight of reality returned.

“You should stop this,” she whispered.

“Stop what? Watching you?” He did not hesitate. “No.”

“Why?”

For the first time, something vulnerable flickered behind his composed expression. “Because I cannot.”

Her breath caught. “You barely know me.”

“I know enough.”

“How?”

He hesitated only a moment. Then he said quietly:

“Because I have loved you since the summer you turned seventeen.”

The word struck her harder than the slap had. “You cannot mean that.”

“I do. Six years.”

“Six years.” She stared at him. Six years of silent observation. Six years of someone seeing what no one else had noticed. Her voice trembled slightly. “You should have said something sooner.”

A shadow crossed his face. “You were married.”

“And that stopped you?”

“Yes.”

The answer came immediately. Rosalind felt her chest tighten. “You are an extraordinary man,” she said softly.

Gideon shook his head once. “No.” His gray eyes met hers. “I am simply a patient one.”

Across the room, someone laughed loudly. Society continued spinning around them, but Rosalind felt something shifting inside her. Something fragile. Something dangerous.

Hope.

She lowered her voice. “My husband will not allow this.”

Gideon’s gaze hardened again. “Your husband,” he said quietly, “is about to discover that he does not control everything.”