The Duke's Bed Warmer-Chapter 41: Cracked Rib

Meanwhile, Austin was with Audrey in her room.

She didn’t even look up when he entered, as if waiting for him.

"I was wondering how long it would take you," she said.

"What is this?" he asked, raising the letters in his hand.

She looked up and smiled.

"Letters I wrote to Alina’s potential suitors."

"Without my consent?" He walked towards her. "You didn’t even bother informing me?"

"You still haven’t decided what to do with her. So I thought of taking the matter into my hands."

"That is not your decision to make."

"I know," Audrey agreed. "Which is precisely the problem."

He stared at her and she stared back.

"I don’t know what’s going on in your head. I think you are confused whether to marry her off or keep her with you even after our marriage," she continued. "So I’m planning..."

"For what?" He cut her off. "Her future, or your advantage?"

Audrey smiled faintly.

"I’m your fiancée and childhood friend, Austin," she said. "who is trying to solve a problem you refuse to acknowledge?"

"I think you’re creating one."

"No. I’m managing it."

He knew he could stop her from going forward with her plan. But that would mean acknowledging what Alina meant to him.

And that was the line he wasn’t ready to cross.

"If you intend to keep her, say so. I will stop," she said.

He didn’t reply and it was enough for her.

"Then allow me to make sure she is sent somewhere safe when you’re done with her."

His hands fisted at his sides. He knew what she was doing but he couldn’t do anything. He turned and left, knowing he had just lost a battle he couldn’t afford to fight properly.

Alina wrote to Elspeth the next morning, asking if her father had ever mentioned the name, if there were papers she had not seen, and if there was something about the debt that no one had told her.

Then she immediately went to Lord Ashby in the library.

"M. Voss," she said. "I found his name in my father’s file. I’m sure you must know something about him since you know everything."

Lord Ashby closed his book.

"Some names are best forgotten," he said.

She sat across from him.

"So you know who he is?"

"I know the name but I don’t know the man," he sighed. "M. Voss is a shadow. His name is in the ledgers of half the noble houses in the northern territories for twenty years. But no one has ever met him."

He opened his book again, a quiet dismissal, but he spoke again as she stood.

"Be careful, Alina. Some doors don’t just open. They take something from you when they do."

Austin came to bed later than usual that night.

She heard him remove his coat and boots, and then flinch.

He lay down beside her and he flinched again.

"Are you hurt?" She asked.

"Sleep."

She sat up. The fire was low, but she could see him. His jaw was clenched and his breathing was shallow.

"You want to do the training exercise today, right?" she said.

"It’s nothing. Sleep."

She got out of bed, lit a candle and crossed to his side of the bed. His hand was pressed on his ribs, and he had trouble breathing.

"Take off your shirt."

He stared at her.

"Alina..."

"Take off your shirt. You’re hurt and probably bleeding."

He did not move. So she reached for the buttons herself. She had watched him undress in the dark a hundred times but had never touched him. Her fingers trembled slightly as she undid his buttons. He did not stop her. He just stared at her while lying there as she pulled away his shirt.

The bruise was already purple, spreading across his ribs. There was a small cut below it, but deep.

"Why didn’t you go to the physician?" she asked.

"There is no need. I’m fine," he replied.

"Or you think going to the physician for an injury like this is a weakness? And you’d rather die than be weak."

He turned away.

She went to the washroom, found a cloth, a basin of water, and picked up the salve she had seen in the drawer. She brought them to the bed and sat beside him.

"Sit up."

He obeyed. She put the cloth on his wound and heard him go still.

She could feel his ribs beneath her fingers, the tension in his muscles held too tight, and his heartbeat was faster than it should have been as if trying not to let her see how much it hurt.

The cloth moved gently over his skin. Her touch was more careful now.

"Breathe," she said softly.

He released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding, and it came out unevenly.

Her fingers lingered at the edge of the bruise, not pressing down, just resting there, as if learning its shape.

And amidst all that, he kept watching her. She could feel it without looking. The weight of his gaze made her pulse quicken.

She dipped the cloth back into the water, wrung it out, and brought it back to his wound. This time, when she pressed it gently against the bruise, his breath hitched.

"Does it hurt?" she asked.

"Yes."

His answer made her stop. Then, without thinking, she brushed her thumb gently along the edge of his ribs, to soothe it.

He almost forgot to breathe. She finished cleaning the cut and applied the salve slowly.

He hadn’t moved or said a single word.

"You should see a physician tomorrow,"

He nodded. She was about to get up but stopped.

"Can I... ask you something?"

"About what?"

"Who is M Voss?"

His expression changed immediately.

"Where did you hear that name?"

"I read his name on my father’s file in your desk. Who is he?"

"I don’t know," he replied.

"You don’t know? How is that possible? The file is on your desk."

"I only know his name," he said. "I have been trying to find out who he is for three years but haven’t found him yet."