The Duke's Unwanted Second Wife

The car ride was thick with an awkward silence that Eilika couldn’t break. After Damian’s bold comment about her blushing, she found herself completely tongue-tied. She kept her gaze fixed firmly out the window, but her mind was racing, replaying Joanna’s pointed words from earlier.

’Can a marriage truly be consummated without feelings?’ she wondered, shutting her eyes for a moment to steady her thoughts. ’No, it isn’t possible. Damian is just teasing me. I’ve noticed lately that he seems to enjoy keeping me off-balance.’

Her internal debate was cut short when the car jolted as the driver applied the brakes.

”We have arrived at Baiton Street, Your Grace,” the driver announced.

Damian stepped out of the vehicle first. He didn’t move away, instead reaching back into the car and taking Eilika’s hand firmly in his to help her out.

Eilika noticed the bodyguards fanning out from the second vehicle, their presence subtle but alert as they secured the immediate perimeter.

”Look! The Duke and the Duchess have arrived!” a voice whispered from the sidewalk.

”Is that really her? I’m envious—she never looked this radiant before the wedding, even with that scar,” another onlooker murmured. ”Marriage certainly brings out a different glow in some people.”

The hushed comments reached Eilika clearly, a testament to her sharp hearing. As the morning sun began to beat down on the pavement, Damian took a parasol from a trailing guard and held it over her, shielding her from the heat.

”Let’s go, Duchess,” he said, his hand resting on her lower back.

He guided her toward a small bakery where the rich, sweet scent of fresh cakes drifted through the open door. Eilika looked at the charming shop and then back at her husband, her heart fluttering.

”Are we on a date?” she whispered, leaning closer to him so only he could hear.

”No,” Damian replied flatly. ”As I told you, we are here for work.”

He led her to a table tucked into the furthest corner of the shop, well away from the windows and prying eyes. Though the bakery was currently empty of other customers, he seemed to prefer the shadow of the alcove.

Damian placed an order for two small pastries. Once the owner, a woman in her thirties with sharp, observant eyes, had set the plates before them, she didn’t retreat. Instead, she stood tall and offered a respectful nod.

”Greetings to the Duke and the Duchess,” the woman said. ”I am Adele Quinn.”

Eilika glanced at the woman in confusion before turning her gaze to Damian, her fork hovering mid-air.

”Take a seat, Adele,” Damian instructed. He looked at Eilika, his expression turning serious. ”Eilika, you are the first person who will learn the identity of my most capable spy.”

”A spy?” Eilika’s eyes widened, her voice dropping to a low whisper.

”Yes. Meeting Adele alone would have drawn far too much suspicion,” Damian explained. ”Bringing you along provided the perfect cover for a private conversation.”

”What is the assignment this time, Your Grace?” Adele asked.

”I was poisoned a few days ago,” Damian answered. ”Maurice followed a lead and discovered that the maid who prepared the juice previously worked in Count Elias’s household. We suspect he is the one behind the attempt. I have been keeping a close watch on his illegal dealings, and he clearly wants to remove the threat I pose to his interests.”

”I will secure the evidence you need,” Adele stated, her tone cold and certain. ”The culprit will be at your mercy soon enough.” She then encouraged them to enjoy their pastries and offered a brief, polite word of congratulations on their marriage.

As she prepared to slip away, Eilika reached out to stop her. ”Wait! Won’t you be recognized? Isn’t it dangerous for you to be seen with us?”

”Fret not, Your Grace,” Adele replied with a faint, knowing smile. ”I am an expert at covering my tracks. No one will suspect a simple baker of being anything more than she appears.”

She offered a final, graceful bow and disappeared toward the back of the shop, leaving Damian and Eilika alone in the quiet corner.

”She has accomplished dozens of missions without ever being exposed,” Damian said, picking up a small pastry spoon. He carved out a perfect portion and moved it toward Eilika’s lips.

”Now,” he stated, his eyes locking onto hers, ”we are on a date.”

Eilika felt a rush of heat to her face at his sudden declaration. She opened her mouth and accepted the bite; the cream melting instantly against her tongue.

”Does the Duke have no actual work to do these days?” she murmured, trying to regain her composure. ”He seems remarkably free.”

”When I finally give you my undivided attention, you find a way to complain,” he replied, shifting back to his own plate and taking a bite.

”I’m merely curious,” she muttered, glancing at him through her lashes. ”And what is with your tone? Why does it sound like you’re flirting with me?”

Damian didn’t look away. His eyebrows shot up, a challenge gleaming in his icy blue eyes. ”Don’t you want me to?”

”I... I do,” Eilika murmured, her voice barely audible as she lowered her gaze. To mask the shyness creeping over her, she focused intently on her plate, taking a quick, deliberate bite of the pastry.

”Eilika, look at me,” Damian said softly, waiting until she met his eyes. ”If possible, I want you to let me see everything. I want to know every small detail about who you are. Every time I discover a new trait of yours, it brings me a strange sense of joy, and an even deeper respect. It makes me genuinely happy to know that you are my wife.”

Eilika lifted her gaze to meet his and found him smiling with a rare, genuine warmth.

”Roman always says his mother is lovely,” Damian said. ”I realized today why he says that. You are a lovely woman, Eilika. Everything about you is beautiful.”

Eilika felt her breath catch as he continued.

”I never imagined myself saying this to you when we first started,” Damian admitted, ”but I find myself truly looking forward to a life with you.”