A Shocking Proposition

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Authors: Elizabeth Rolls
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tonight,” said the duchess, pressing Maddy’s hand in farewell. “Do say you forgive us, and will come after Twelfth Night.” She smiled. “Ash is very wise to keep you all to himself for now. Ravensfell will be quieter then with most of our guests gone and just our sons and Gerald and Ash’s sisters for another week. They are all looking forward to seeing you.”
    Maddy stammered a thank-you and the duchess leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. “And don’t worry about Montfort’s idiocy. He’s done himself a very great deal of harm if he only knew it.”
    Her cheeks burned. “Madam, it was all—”
    “Helen,” the duchess corrected her. “And you don’t need to tell me it was all lies. His mother always did spoil him dreadfully, and just see what has come of it!” She patted Maddy’s hand. “Oh, dear. Poor Gerald is positively glaring at me from the door! I must go. Merry Christmas, my dear!” She turned to Ash, fixing him with what she possibly imagined was a severe look. “Behave yourself.”
    The duke strolled up and caught his duchess’s hand, sliding it onto his arm. “Not precisely the advice to give a man on his wedding day, m’dear.” He smiled at Maddy, who was wondering if she’d heard aright. “I’ll just wish you very happy again.” He cast a sideways look at his own wife. “And assure you that he’s highly unlikely to take Helen’s bit of advice to heart, luckily for you.”
    Apparently she had heard correctly. The Duke of Thirlmere had a very wicked twinkle in his eye, even as the duchess thumped his shoulder.
    “Thank you, brother,” said Ash in carefully restrained tones. “Just what advice would you give me on my wedding night?”
    The duke raised his brows. “I’d be surprised to learn you needed any.” He frowned. “Actually, there is something—leave Montfort to me.” And he was gone before Ash could do more than open his mouth.
    The vicar gulped. “Ah, more claret, Lord Ashton? Ratafia, Lady Ashton?”
    * * *
    Ash handed his bride into the carriage Gerald had lent him— Just until you can arrange your own —to the accompaniment of enthusiastic cheers, and with a restraint that had his jaw aching. At some point he was going to have to know the truth, if Montfort had forced Maddy, or even attempted to. The thought that Maddy, his Maddy, might have suffered that sickened him. As for Gerald’s advice to leave Montfort to him—his brother had rocks in his head.
    He stepped into the carriage, fishing in his coat pocket for the coins he’d put there. Leaning out, he flung the coins into the crowd of villagers, who scooped them up, still cheering.
    As the carriage lurched off, he settled himself on the seat opposite Maddy and saw that she had the carriage rug tucked around her as well as her cloak. “Are you warm enough?”
    She nodded. “Yes. There are hot bricks under my feet, too.” Her eyes met his shyly. “I think they are intended for both of us, and the rug is quite large enough to share.”
    Ash’s body had an instant and predictable reaction to the suggestion that he share the rug with Maddy. “I’m warm enough,” he said. Too damned warm. And he hadn’t meant to sound like a bear with a spike in its paw.
    “Oh.” She went a little pink. “Er, that was very generous of you,” she said. “The coins. But most of the people from the castle had gone. I mean, they weren’t there to—”
    He managed a smile, despite the nagging ache in his groin. Typical of Maddy to think of her people. “I have more for them. And I thought we would add something to everyone’s wages to celebrate our marriage.”
    Her face changed. “It nearly wasn’t,” she said softly, leaning forward.
    He tried not to breathe, but the soft scent of lavender and Maddy wound about and through him and he reached for her hand, enveloped it in his. “Nearly wasn’t what?”
    “A celebration.” A trembling smile ripped at his heart. “You married me, despite what Edward

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