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

Chapter 7

Lord Blackmoor discovered the truth sooner than expected.

The whispers reached him within days. At White’s Club, at the gaming tables, in the careful silences that followed his name, men who had once laughed easily beside him now spoke more cautiously. Conversations paused when he entered a room. A few acquaintances suddenly remembered urgent engagements and departed.

Reginald Vane was not a perceptive man, but even he recognized when society began to turn. And he knew why.

The Duke of Ravensmere. The name echoed in his mind like a threat.

He returned to Blackmoor Hall in a foul temper that evening. Rosalind was seated near the window in the east wing drawing room with a book resting in her lap when the door opened without warning.

“Stand up.”

She looked up slowly. Reginald stood in the doorway, his expression already flushed with anger.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me.” His voice dropped dangerously. “You will prepare to leave London.”

Her stomach tightened. “What do you mean?”

“You are going to the country.” The words struck like cold water. “You will remain at Blackmoor Hall for the remainder of the season.”

Rosalind rose slowly. “And why?”

Reginald’s smile was thin. “Because you have forgotten your position.”

She understood immediately. He was removing her. Taking her away from London, from society, from Gideon.

“You cannot simply send me away.”

“I can do anything I please.” His voice hardened. “You are my wife.”

Rosalind held his gaze. “And yet you house your mistress beneath this roof.”

His eyes flashed. “That is not your concern.”

“It has been my concern for six years.”

The air between them thickened. Reginald stepped closer.

“You have been behaving improperly.”

“I have done nothing improper.”

“You have encouraged the Duke of Ravensmere.”

Rosalind felt something inside her steady. “I have merely spoken with him.”

“That ends now.” His hand slammed against the desk beside her. “You will leave London tomorrow morning.”

“No.”

The word surprised even her.

Reginald froze. “What did you say?”

“I will not go.”

For a moment, he simply stared at her. Then his expression darkened with a rage she had rarely seen so plainly.

“You will obey me.”

“No.”

The slap came without warning. Her head snapped sideways as pain flared across her cheek. But she did not fall this time. She did not cry. She simply turned back and looked at him.

Something in that calm gaze unsettled him. For the first time in years, his wife did not look afraid.

“You are making a mistake,” she said quietly.

Reginald laughed harshly. “You forget the law.”

“Yes,” Rosalind replied softly. “I know the law very well.”

The words unsettled him, but he dismissed the feeling quickly. “You will be in the carriage at six in the morning.” He turned toward the door. “If you are not ready,” he added coldly, “I will have you carried.”

The door slammed behind him.

Rosalind stood motionless for several seconds. Then slowly, she lifted her hand to her cheek. Her pulse was steady — because the fear that had ruled her life for six years was beginning to disappear.

Behind her, the sitting room door opened quietly. Meg stepped inside. The older woman took one look at Rosalind’s face and inhaled sharply.

“He struck you again.”

“Yes.”

Meg’s lips pressed into a thin line. “That is enough.”

Rosalind turned toward her. “What do you mean?”

Meg walked closer and lowered her voice. “I am sending word.”

“To whom?”

“The Duke of Ravensmere.”

Rosalind hesitated. Then she nodded once — because something in her heart told her the same truth Gideon had already reached.

Six years of silence had ended.

And before the sun rose, the Duke of Ravensmere would come.