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She studied his features. He had hardly shaved since their wedding day, the growth of hair staining his cheeks giving him a rugged appearance—not that of a polished duke.

Furthermore, he hadn’t pushed her to read his rules, hadn’t taken her over his knee for sneaking out at midnight. He hadn’t even called out Warton for his insults.

All signs pointed to the possibility that perhaps he hadn’t beenentirelyin control since their marriage.

But, here, in this moment, all signs of control were gone altogether. Oddly, the idea warmed her. Just as those blank pages had. Did they mean he was letting his rules go? They no longer existed? She wanted desperately to ask him about them but pushed the thought away. That was not part of the plan.

“Right,” she said when he just continued to stare at her. “Marriage. I wish to be separated from it.”

“Why?”

Why? Well . . . how was she to answer that?

“I . . . er . . .” What had Jonathan said? Something, something, and lover. “I wish to explore my options.”

“Explore your options? What the hell does that mean?” He straightened to his full height.

Right. What did that mean?

“It means I do not feel valued.” That sounded like something a woman leaving her husband might say.

“Valued? Christ.” He took another swallow and then another, as if dealing with her line of reasoning was too much. Those coal black eyes delved deep into hers.

“Did you not feel valued when I had my hands all over your body, making love to you?”

Burning color instantly swept up her neck. “That is hardly the point.”

“What is the point then? You can hardly claim to feel undervalued after you’ve come undone in my arms.” His eyes narrowed on her. “Again and again.”

Her entire body went weak. She bit down on her lower lip. “That is not the only way to measure feeling valued. Feeling respected is another. Trust is yet another. And I can’t trust you anymore.” Her voice was as trembly as her limbs, but she’d gotten through the sentence.

“Because I did not tell you I found your sister? I haven’t harmed her. I haven’t bloody married her off. And yet, you wish to leave me without so much as allowing for an explanation.”

“You have given me all the reasons I need.”And all the reasons not to.

“And for that, you’d toss me aside like a rag doll?”

“Perhaps you ought to have thought about that before you hid my sister from me.”

He shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“There is more to marriage than finding pleasure with bed sport,” Willow carried on, blissfully ignorant of the sudden tension in the room. “Why, alovercould give the same outcome, I’m certain.”

His eyes snapped open, and instant fury clouded their depth. “There will be no lovers.”

“Perhaps not now but one day, when our marriage has reached its inevitable moment of unfolding—”

“Stop.”

Her mouth snapped shut at that single word, spoken with such menace that Willow grimaced. She watched as he took another swig of brandy.

“You drive me bloody insane,” he muttered, his eyes glaring at her in accusation. “And you’re too bloody beautiful for your own good.”

“Only you would say something at a moment like this,” Willow said, taken aback by his declaration.

One of his arms dangled at his side, the other barely holding up the glass, his movements sluggish. The draught was taking effect, Willow realized with relief. She wasn’t sure how much more of this she could have endured.

“It must be working then,” she murmured to herself.