The Duke's Disaster (R) by Grace Burrowes

was sure of it, but his passionate wife was unmoving beneath him, and that would not do.
    “Did I hurt you, Thea?”
    She shook her head, her movement brushing her cheek against his.
    Her damp cheek.
    Lucifer in Hades . Noah’s bride was crying, her tears silently leaking into her hair as she lay passively in his arms. He withdrew, slowly, so as not to hurt her, sat on the edge of the bed, and reached for one of the handkerchiefs he’d stacked on the night table.
    In the interests of marital tranquillity—and Noah’s own sanity—he brought himself to a brisk and intense climax, his back to Thea as he stroked himself to completion. When he finished, he tidied himself and gave a thought to how many other dukes were consigned to onanistic pleasures on their wedding nights.
    “I did not hurt you, but you are crying.” Noah regarded Thea as she lay, still quietly producing tears.
    “I’m so s-sorry, Anselm.”
    In a parody of his usual flashes of brilliance, Noah realized what Thea was apologizing for. Rather than keep his stupid, randy mouth shut, he had to know for sure.
    He’d encountered no real resistance as he’d joined their bodies, only a bliss-inducing snugness. He’d hardly made it a habit to lie with virgins, though. For all he knew, Thea might have been chaste.
    Except the light of the last candle was enough to illuminate the sheer misery on her face.
    The new duchess of Anselm had not been chaste.
    “Do you love him still?” Disappointment as old as Noah’s oldest memory, as familiar as his own hands, settled in his belly where arousal had been moments earlier.
    “I did not love him.”
    Thea’s voice was low, throaty, and dry as ashes with crying, and Noah felt an unwelcome pang of pity for her.
    “You might have said something.” Noah climbed back under the covers, and this at least had Thea’s eyes flying open. “For God’s sake, don’t look at me like that. I’ve never struck a female of any species, and I’d hardly start with my duchess.”
    Noah smacked a few pillows though, and settled on his back, arms crossed behind his head.
    “We will have this discussion now, Araminthea, and then not talk of this matter again.” He kept a howling sense of betrayal at bay, only because betrayal was eclipsed by the self-disgust of a boy who might choose any one toy to play with, and had unwittingly selected the broken one.
    Would he never learn?
    “You will pursue an annulment?” Thea asked.
    Noah yanked the covers up. “Oh, you’d like that, but one can’t exactly claim inability on the groom’s part, can one? Nor adultery on yours or a lack of adequate years or mental competence.”
    “But you didn’t…”
    Unchaste and blushing, both. Noah wanted to howl.
    “Hardly germane, madam, as the ecclesiastical courts are not getting their prurient paws on the details of my wedding night, thank you very much. Nor will I have it bruited about that I was unable, or that I chose poorly. Are you breeding?”
    Noah should have asked Thea that before ruling out an annulment. He was a duke and a Winters. He could have any damned marriage he pleased annulled.
    “I am not breeding.”
    “You will allow me leave to doubt that.” Noah fell silent, resenting his wife to the depths of his stupid soul. He’d been so intent on seeing this task accomplished, and she’d been his brilliantly insightful choice.
    Bloody blazing damn.
    “I expect business associates to attempt to cheat me,” he said. “I expected my mistresses to have their dainty hands in my pockets at every turn, I expect my family to wheedle and manipulate and beg favors, but I did not see this coming. I commend you.”
    Thea didn’t shrink from him physically, but he might as well have slapped her, so palpably did she react to his insult.
    “Nobody would leave us alone,” she said. “I wasn’t raised to know how to broach such a topic. I can’t think when you start kissing me, much less speak coherently. My sister has no other