I scoff. “You know, it’s a good thing you have no intention of consummating this marriage because that way you’ll have plenty of stamina to go fuck yourself.”
He sucks in a breath as if preparing to unleash a tirade of sharp words, but at that moment, the limo pulls up to the curb in front of a looming, stately, old building in the center of Gallarney, Corwick’s second largest city. A man approaches the door from the outside, and Malachi takes another breath, this time like he’s attempting to center himself.
He reaches for my hand and grips it. “Anything you do at this dinner will reflect equally upon you as it does on me. And the Corwick press is just as bad as it is in Britain, if not worse.Pleasebehave yourself.”
I stare forward smugly as the man outside opens the door for Malachi. “Oh, don’t worry,cariño. The people of Corwick are going toloveme.”
Heharrumphsas he steps out of the car and offers his open palm like the fake-as-fuck gentleman he is now, and I take it.
The flashbulbs start going off before I even set my stiletto on the pavement, andyep.
Corwick willloveme. But they’re one day’s worth of press from realizing theirHonorable Dukeis a wife beater.
WE’VE BEEN MAKING the rounds at this party for about fifteen minutes. It’s so obvious that a lot of people are trying not to stare at my face, but Malachi is so oblivious that he hasn’t noticed anything is wrong yet.
Malachi is leading me around the space with his hand on the small of my back, playing the part of a loving, doting, newlywed husband while he offers everyone he speaks to a bright and charming smile—but he doesn’t even glance at me.
“Darling,” he says, guiding me to stop in front of a middle-aged couple, and I turn to them in a way that it’s impossible for them to miss my bruised face. “Allow me to introduce you to Weston and Elizabeth, the Marquess and Marchioness of Kenderson.” I switch my flute of champagne to my opposite hand to offer the other to Weston and then Elizabeth as Malachi continues. “Lord and Lady Kenderson, my wife, Isla.”
Elizabeth’s pale green eyes widen for a microsecond before her brown lashes flap twice, and she appears to swallow.
Weston clears his throat and cuts a glance at Malachi before looking back at me. “A pleasure to meet you, Your Grace.”
I lean into Malachi’s side and tilt my head as I offer my best duchess smile. “The pleasure is all mine, Lord Kenderson.” I nod at Elizabeth. “Lady Kenderson.”
Elizabeth clasps a glass of champagne with both hands at her waist, clearly fighting the urge to stare at my cheek. “You are from America, is that correct, Your Grace?”
I nod politely, focusing on her eyes. “Yes, I grew up in Southampton, New York. My family’s estate is next door to the summer home of their Royal Highnesses, and our families are very old friends.”
“Ah.” Elizabeth nods. “And how are you enjoying Corwick so far?”
“IloveCorwick,” I gush. Malachi’s hand does a slow, firm rub up and down my back while he sips a scotch and drifts his gaze beyond Elizabeth and Weston’s heads. “Though… I’m afraid I haven’t had a chance to see much of the country yet.” I pause for effect. “The wedding was only last weekend, as I’m sure you know, and I only arrived the day before.”
Weston gestures at Malachi with his glass, clearly fighting the urge to stare at me. “You should take her to Kinsdale, Your Grace.” He looks back at me, but his eyes flit all over the place. “It’s on the eastern coast, and you’ll never see another sunrise like it.”
I suck in a tiny, delighted gasp and clutch Malachi’s bicep close to my side. “Oh,cariño,we should go there. I wouldloveto see the sunrise.” I release his arm to stroke my nails over the back of his hair, all lovey-dovey style, and he stiffens against me. “Sería muy romántico,” I add, turning my face toward his for the sole purpose of putting my cheek on full display, just in case the Lord and Lady have missed any part of it.
Malachi downs his scotch, passing off the glass to a waiter nearby, and then clears his throat as he maintains his charming smile. “Of course,sweetheart.”
“If you’ll excuse my candidness, Your Grace,” Elizabeth says.
I turn to smile at her. “Not at all.”
Her mouth parts and closes a couple of times as though she’s attempting to meticulously plan her words. “Did you have an accident?”
In my periphery, I see Malachi’s smile fade to neutral, and he slowly turns his head toward me.
I stare blankly for a second, playing dumb, and utter a breathy, “Ohh,” as I lightly pat my cheek. “I did. Just yesterday. I was… um…” I release Malachi to twirl my wrist in a circle, making a big show of searching for words. “There’s a um… these…” I blink rapidly as I offer a disarming laugh, but Elizabeth and Weston are both cutting their concerned gazes between my injured face and Malachi’s. “Steps,” I blurt out. “We have some stone steps that lead from the… the um… the courtyard. And I slipped. I mean… Itripped…because, you know… they’re much…widerthan I’m used to.”
I smile brightly while they both look at me with expressions like they know it’s a load of bullshit—which is exactly what I was hoping for.
There is absolutelynomistaking what caused the marks on my face. And now, there’s also not going to be anyone at this party who doubts the fact that Malachi is the type of man to hit a woman.
Good.
“That sounds…” Elizabeth swallows. “Dreadful. It looks quite painful.”
“Oh itwas,” I say with emphasis, “It was—”
