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Who knew a brusque terror of a duke could be so sweet?

Mari’s heart brimmed with tenderness, and never-to-be-shed tears welled behind her eyes.

There’s hope for you yet, Edgar.

When she left this family, she would know that Michel and Adele had a father who was learning to show them that he cared.

Someone to soothe the night terrors. A steady shoulder to lean upon.

A good man to emulate.

She checked on Adele, who was fast asleep, her fierce little face calm in repose. “She’s asleep,” she whispered.

Edgar nodded, rising from Michel’s side.

“He’ll sleep through the night now,” Mari whispered. “It rarely returns twice in one night.”

They left softly, leaving the nursery door ajar.

The corridor was dark and silent.

His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing across her lips. He tilted her face to one of the lamps burning on a hall table. “You’re hurt.”

Mari touched her lip. Wetness on her fingers. “It’s nothing. His elbow caught me.”

“It’s not nothing. Mari, you’re bleeding.” The raw emotion on his face caught her by surprise. “Come with me. I’ll take care of you.”

Chapter 21

Mari allowed Edgar to lead her to her chambers. He settled her into a chair and then dipped a cloth into the wash basin and wrung it out, touching it to her lips.

She tensed.

“Does it hurt?” he asked.

“Not too much.”

“You’re shivering.” He slid the counterpane off her bed and tucked it over her knees.

She became acutely aware of the late hour and their state of undress.

He was in a silk robe that had slipped open to reveal one of his powerful thighs. Was he wearing anything underneath?

Her face felt hot and her feet were freezing despite her slippers.

Longing crashed over her, stealing her breath.

He brushed his finger over her lip again and she flinched.

“You’ll have a bruise. He clipped you with his elbow and your teeth cut your lip.”

His hands ran down her arms. “Any other injuries?”

“Just the lip. I’ll look even more of a fright tomorrow.”

“What do you mean, even more?” he asked with a puzzled frown.

That had been the old Mari speaking. The one who thought of herself as frightful. Plain and freckled with awful red hair. Too thin and scrawny.


Tags: Lenora Bell Historical