I woke when the bed groaned. Ren was sitting up with his legs over the side, his very fine, muscled back to me. The room was just beginning to get light. It was still before seven. He stretched.

"Sneaking off?" I said in a sleepy voice.

"Going for a run."

Of course he was a runner.

"Right off the estate and into the sunrise? Going to leave me already?" I was half joking.

"And lose my half of the estate? Not on your life," he said, back still toward me.

I couldn't resist. I ran my long fingernails down his back and watched him shiver with delight while trying to hide it. Goosebumps gave him away.

He slid out of bed, giving me a fine view of his firm, naked bum. "Go back to sleep. I'll be back soon." He pulled a pair of running shorts and T-shirt out of a dresser.

"You had your things moved here?" I was surprised. I hadn't noticed last night.

"And yours," he said without turning around, hiding his expression and his dick from me.

But at least I got my fill of looking at his profile in the mirror over the fireplace.

"Cost me fifty quid to pay off one of the lads on the staff to do it. Everyone knows that room is haunted. Since word of your scare got around, no one will touch it without compensation."

"Word got out, did it? Gossip spreads like wildfire around here." I laughed. "You Brits are a superstitious lot."

"Some would say smart. And I'm half American, by the way." He slid the shorts and shirt on, grabbed a pair of socks, and went into the bathroom.

I snuggled into the covers and lay back on my pillow, pondering whether he was punishing me now by not looking at me. His manner seemed almost cold. There was no understanding men. A few minutes later, he reemerged from the bathroom and grabbed his running shoes. "I won't be gone long."

After he left, I lay in bed for a while but couldn't fall back to sleep. My mind was too busy. There were so many things to be decided. So many things to be done—set a date for Manly's funeral and lying in state, continue with the plans for the castle, and, now, get Ren's buy-in. Halloween was barely over a month away. One of the first events I wanted to hold at the castle was an overnight ghost-hunting tour.

I sat up and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I still wore my jewelry. I hadn't taken my makeup off. It was smudged, and I had a bad case of bedhead. Maybe it was better that Ren hadn't looked at me. Crazy to be married and still be trying to impress him. The course of my life didn't run straight at all.

I set my jewelry on the nightstand, swung out of bed, and padded to the bathroom, intent on a nice, hot shower. I brushed my teeth and took off my makeup as the water ran and my numbness wore away. At the thought of Manly and everything that had happened, I found myself suddenly emotional. As the steam poured from the shower, I stepped in and let my tears flow. It was hard to tell who or what I was crying for—Manly, myself, the future I thought I'd have, or the future I wanted now.

Just like in the bedroom, I'd stocked the bath and shower with all the scents that were practically guaranteed to make a man horny. As I washed my hair with a light floral shampoo of rose and lily of the valley, the tears stopped and images of last night intruded. I scrubbed myself with blood orange scrub. I lost myself in my thoughts as I lathered myself up with vanilla body wash. I remembered Ren's touch as I touched myself and slid my hands over my body. If Ren wouldn't pleasure me this morning, I would myself. There should be sex on the morning after your wedding. There should be.

I closed my eyes, enjoying the slippery suds over my body and the warmth of the water. I moaned softly as I slipped my fingers inside myself, imagining Ren sliding in. What was it about that man? How had he so completely invaded my mind and my body? Even my fantasies. I wanted him in the worst way, but that gave him the upper hand. I couldn't let him know. I couldn't let it show.

I was so lost in my pleasurable fantasy that the glass door opening took me by surprise. I felt the cool breeze before I heard anything. My eyes flew open. Ren stood there, naked and erect, his hair damp from his morning run in the mist. How long had he been watching me? How much had he seen? Too much, that was clear enough.

He stepped inside without speaking, spun my back to him, and, with barely a tease, slid into me from behind. Not that I needed to be worked up, but I would have taken him face to face standing up. I liked face-to-face shower sex. If he was punishing me with the impersonal nature of the act, he was doing a damned poor job. His dick was so much finer than my fingers. I gasped and bent forward, giving him better access to my breasts, rocking with him in the vanilla-scented steam.

He was skilled and knew how to move to find my G-spot. He grazed my back with his teeth as he tugged on my nipples and held me tightly against him. Like last night, the pleasure with him was more intense than anything I'd felt before. If I'd been stronger, I would have fought it and him. A moan escaped me, then a gasp, encouraging him to thrust harder and faster. My climax, and his, came quickly. He held me to him as he shuddered, resting his wet head on my back. My knees were weak, but somehow managed to hold me up. Water streamed through my long hair over my face. Time stood still as we stood locked together, breathing hard and trying to find our balance. I was quickly realizing that, with regards to Ren, I had no balance.

When he finally pulled out, he caught me in his arms and pulled me onto his lap on the shower bench. Hot water covered us. Steam surrounded us. But nothing hid the raw lust we felt for each other. My heart raced as I turned my face to his, unsure what I was hoping to find.

He kissed me before I could find out, urgently, with the same intensity he had last night. I kissed him back, sucking his lip roughly, knowing it would leave my mark on him. Wanting it to. The water began to grow suddenly cold. This old castle needed a modern water heater. I pulled away from him and slid out of his lap. Nothing was going to throw cold water on this moment for me.

I wrung my hair out and reached for the door. "Your turn."

"You're leaving me in the cold water?"

"I'm leaving you with what you deserve." I grabbed my towel.

It took him just minutes in the shower. I put on my bra and panties and was still drying my hair when he stepped out and went to the bedroom to dress. I took my time, happier, for the moment, not having to face him and his mercurial moods. When my hair was dry and styled, I put on my quick, everyday makeup, and steeled myself as I entered the bedroom.

Ren was just zipping his suitcase. His backpack was packed and on the bed, his coat thrown over it.

"Going somewhere?" I asked.

"London." He finished zipping his bag.

I raised an eyebrow. "Really? On our honeymoon?" I tried to sound light.

He finally turned to face me. "I have a life there, Bliss. A job. People"—he paused—"who won't be expecting me to come back from my uncle's wedding married to his fiancée."

He spoke the truth, and even though he looked resigned, his tone stung. As if our situation was all my fault? As if he hadn't had a choice. He could have walked away. As if Manly hadn't manipulated both of us. And people, meaning who? Women?

I hadn't considered that he might be in a relationship with someone. To be honest, with this whirlwind "courtship" and marriage, I hadn't had time. The thought of another woman made me irrationally angry, bringing up such a passionate pang of jealousy that it was frightening. I'd never felt that much depth of emotion about anything before.

But I walked on such a thin crust of ice here. Despite the fact that Ren was now my husband, I really had no hold on him. And he none on me. Ground rules. We needed ground rules about the relationship before he dashed off. I had no desire for an open marriage. And the last thing I wanted, despite the unconventional circumstances, was to be embarrassed by my husband of less than a day being seen out with another woman. The tabloids would have a field day with that.

"I hope your trip can wait until after breakfast?" I slid up behind him and rested my head on his back. "We have things to discuss. Roles to work out."

He stiffened, clearly understanding my meaning. "It will have to wait until I get back."

I swallowed hard and backed away. I wouldn't beg. "How long will you be gone?"

He looked at me sharply. "I have no idea." His gaze bounced around the room. "Living here at the estate was never in my plans."

"Of course not." I took a deep breath and steeled myself. "But we have things to discuss. Details to work out. People will expect you back for Manly's funeral and viewing. As his nearest relative, you should say a few words. And be present, at least."

At the mention of the funeral, he looked almost guilty. "I know my duty. I'll be back for both. I'll have to do my best to plan it from London. I've been given to believe that Uncle left very definite plans for his funeral."

I nodded. "Yes. Manly had everything planned out to the smallest detail. And paid for ahead of time. The funeral home has all the plans. All we have to do, really, is set the dates and times and post the announcement. Hire a caterer."

Ren nodded. "You can handle that."

I shrugged.

"Good. You have my number." His gaze traveled down me. I wondered if I unhooked my bra if I could entice him to stay. "Don't listen to rumors." He grabbed my arm. "And stay out of that haunted room."

I was too stunned to do anything but nod.

He picked up his bags, took my chin in his hand, and gave me a quick peck. A quick kiss wasn't enough. A quick kiss would never be enough from him now that I tasted more.

I wasn't sure whether I should be pleased or angry with being treated like a wife he'd been married to for years. And then he was gone, leaving me standing stunned in the middle of the room, a bride abandoned on her honeymoon.

I went to the window and watched through the morning mist as he tossed his bags in the boot of his car. He glanced over his shoulder at the window where I stood. I didn't know what he was looking for, but I didn't wave. I didn't like goodbyes, and right now, being enigmatic seemed like the best way to bring him back as soon as possible. He jumped into the driver's seat of his car, which, to my American eye, still looked weird, like he was waiting for a driver to get in the other side. I stood in the window, watching as his car pulled away and out of sight into the gray mist. Yesterday had been sunny. Today, this. English fog and morning mist. A harbinger? If Ren never came back, would I be better off? Or devastated?

I wandered down to breakfast, unsure where to begin with the day now that I was on my own. As I came down the grand staircase, Manly's portrait caught my eye. I studied it again, my heart tight, feeling the same desperation I felt at Ren leaving. The two most interesting men in my life had left me in less than twenty-four hours. I could have fallen in love with either of them if fate and time hadn't been so cruel and capricious. I didn't know whether to be angry with or grateful to Manly for putting me in this position. I was still confused by his last wishes—why yoke me to the nephew he couldn't stand? Was I merely a sacrifice on the altar of the castle and title's survival? Or had his love and affection for me been genuine?

I was a big girl. I'd made my decision with my eyes open. But the game had changed. I needed to figure out the new rules and a winning strategy. I also had the thought that we'd have to commission a portrait of Ren now, and it would have to be hung above the stairs in Manly's spot. Manly's would have to be relocated. And why shouldn't I also commission a portrait of myself? The new duchess deserved a place of honor too.

I studied the young, strong, confident Manly a second longer. "Help me, Manly," I whispered. "How will I get through this day that should have been ours?"

A cleaning crew was working on the great room as I walked by, still tidying up after the reception. I recognized a few of the regulars and smiled. They returned my smile uncertainly. I ran into one of the regular cleaning women in the hall on her way to begin the arduous task of making up the many guestrooms. She had the same wary look. Manly's death had upset them. Naturally, they were worried about their jobs. I'd have to reassure them.

Breakfast first, and although I was upset and disappointed with Ren for abandoning me, I was surprisingly hungry. Libby, the head of Manly's small household staff, greeted me in the morning room, where breakfast was set out in warming trays—Manly's favorite breakfast. I had no idea what Ren liked. It seemed like a waste with only me to eat it. I'd have to make it clear that the staff could help themselves after I was through.

Libby was a treasure and in charge of almost everything domestic. She supervised the housekeeping staff, the cooks and chef, and the maintenance crews, and kept the event calendar up to date.

"Good morning, duchess." Libby greeted me with a friendly, but appropriately somber, smile.

"Everything looks lovely and smells delicious," I said, forcing an answering smile. "Thank you for keeping things running during these difficult circumstances. Manly would have been grateful."

I choked up. My emotions were fickle and unpredictable as the shock of Manly's sudden death gradually wore off bit by bit.

"I'd like to meet with you later to discuss…the recent changes, Libby. For now, let me reassure you that I have no plans to dismiss or make any changes to the staff. If anything, as I get the bed-and-breakfast business up and going, I'll need to hire more people." I took a deep breath, trying to control myself. "I don't know the full details of Manly's will or whether he bequeathed anything to any staff particularly. But I would like to address the staff to reassure them that their jobs are secure. Would you call a meeting with them for me?"

"Certainly." Libby looked relieved. The new duchess wasn't a complete ditz. At least I was a woman who understood business and my duty. "Do you have a time in mind?"

"As soon as possible," I said. "Late this afternoon, if that's convenient? I have to get through this morning first. Talk to the lawyers and get the details. Meet with the funeral home. Please urge the staff to be flexible. Things could change at a moment's notice. My schedule isn't really my own. I'm at the mercy of others right now."

Libby visibly relaxed and nodded. I was still at a loss as to how keenly she felt the loss of her employer and how close their relationship had been.

"At your convenience, duchess." She paused. "Will the duke be joining you for breakfast?"

I couldn't help frowning. It was clear she already knew the answer. Nothing went unnoticed here, certainly not Ren taking off. But manners and politeness must be observed. "No, unfortunately. Ren left for London earlier. As you can imagine, he has business to take care of there."

Libby nodded again.

"After I'm done with my breakfast, will you make sure this food doesn't go to waste? If any of the workers are hungry…"

"Very good. And what about the cake? We have a pantry full of it."

"Let them eat cake." I forced a small smile, trying to sound breezy. "Whoever wants it. Serve it at the staff meeting. Send it home with people if you have to. Get rid of all of it."

"You don't want a small piece frozen to eat on your first anniversary?"

A bitter laugh escaped me. My first anniversary would likely also be the day I got divorced. "No. Thank you for the thought. If I need cake on our anniversary, I'll order a fresh one. Freezer-burned cake holds no appeal for me." I tried to sound light and upbeat, but feared I'd failed.

"Wise choice." She turned to leave.

"Libby?"

"Yes, duchess?"

"How long have you worked for Manly?"

She looked upward, like she was trying to remember. "Going on twenty-five years, it must be."

"You were here, then, when Ren was young?"

"Yes."

I bit my lip, wondering how far to press and what exactly I wanted to know. My phone rang before I could figure it out. Thorne. "Thank you, Libby." As I answered the call, I made a note to question her further later. "Just the man I want to talk to."

He was staying in the village. We arranged to meet me at the castle in an hour. I decided to receive him in Manly's office. Manly kept all his important paperwork there, including a copy of the detailed instructions for his funeral.

I entered the room with some minor trepidation. My experience here yesterday had been traumatic. I was relieved that housekeeping had returned the room to its usual state. It smelled like Manly and was oddly comforting because of that. Very old people could have an old person's smell, but not Manly. He was vibrant and surprisingly youthful until the end. And fastidious about his clothes and person. He'd always smelled like a delightful classic cologne. A hint of it lingered in the room.

His last instructions were in a file in his desk drawer. I was reading through it, making notes about what needed to be done, when Thorne arrived.

"Duchess." He took my hands in his and squeezed them. "Forgive my tardiness. It took longer than I expected to negotiate my way here through the throngs of paparazzi."

I frowned. I was used to them dogging my every move, but still, they were a nuisance and a stress I didn't need. "How bad are they?"

"Trying to storm the estate gates, I believe." He got a wry look on his face. I rather liked his droll sense of humor. "Rather less numerous in the village. But the village is small and easily overwhelmed. Reverend Hodgson has apparently chased them off the chapel, one presumes with a little help from above. They've been persistently trying to get details of the late duke's funeral in advance. I advise caution to anyone leaving the castle grounds."

"I suppose they can't resist my story. Even I have to admit it's the kind of drama that interests people."

His expression remained professionally sympathetic. "I trust you're well this morning. I must compliment you on your composure."

I ushered him to a chair. "As well as I can be, I guess, given everything. Including how you forced me into a marriage I wasn't expecting."

"That wasn't me," Thorne said dryly. "That was all the late duke."

"Hmmmm…and you had nothing to do with the legal crafting that made his last wishes airtight?"

"A good solicitor does what his client wishes." He maintained his pleasant, reassuring air. "You're also handling the headlines admirably well."

I shot him a quick look. "I've learned coping mechanisms over the years. Being a billionaire's daughter, I had to. I don't read my press. I stay off social media. This will blow over eventually. Sooner or later, a new, more salacious scandal will capture their attention." I paused to study Thorne's expression. "They've given me a nickname, haven't they? From the look on your face, it's not flattering. It never is." I sighed. "You may as well tell me—what are they calling me?"

"The Deadly Duchess. Like Helen of Troy. But instead of your face launching a thousand ships, one look at your deadly beauty will stop a man's heart."

I actually laughed. It was absolutely ridiculous. "Is that all? I expected something catchier. At least they're crediting me with lethal beauty, not terminal ugliness. And Ren? Does he have a nickname, too? The Dastardly Substitute Duke, maybe? The Bride Stealer?"

"The Daring Duke, the Wicked Nephew, I believe. Rumors abound that he did away with his uncle in the nick of time."

I rolled my eyes, but my heart pounded. As hard as I tried to dismiss the nonsense, a part of me still wondered. "Why don't they come right out with it and call him the last-minute murderer? The estate stealer?"

All traces of amusement at the situation vanished. "I'm afraid it's no laughing matter, duchess. The new duke's past has once again become fodder for the interested public. You're aware of his brother's tragic death?"

I nodded. "The bare essentials, yes."

"Articles and questions about William's death are resurfacing."

I swore beneath my breath. We didn't need any more scandal to add to our already vast pile.

"The new duke has left for London, I take it?" Thorne said.

I frowned, not liking the insinuation. "Word travels fast."

"I believe I saw his car passing through the village and made the natural assumption." Thorne paused. "The duke would be advised to manage his actions and public perception carefully."

No one knew that better than I did. Ren should have known too. Maybe he didn't give a damn. Or maybe he was in London falling into the comforting arms of a girlfriend who'd become his mistress overnight and was trying to assuage her fears. I imagined the worst.

Thorne pulled a sheaf of papers and a laptop from his bag. He handed me a copy of my marriage license. "Filed with the proper authorities this morning. This is your copy, duchess."

"So fast? Everything's legal?"

"Yes, your grace," he said. "Perfectly legal."

"Thank you." I let out a sigh. "Can I ask you something? How long have you represented Manly's interests?"

"The late duke became my client recently, duchess. Just this year. Shortly before he met you, I believe."

I pursed my lips, surprised and puzzled. I hadn't paid particular attention to Manly's legal team before. "I hope you won't take offense, but why did he engage you so late in life? He must have had a team of lawyers and a law office he'd worked with most of his life. Most of these old families do. Why switch lawyers at the eleventh hour?"

"I don't believe it was so much a matter of switching lawyers as adding me to his team. I have certain specialties that other lawyers lack." His smile was perfectly pleasant, but he didn't elaborate. And it was clear he wasn't going to.

He'd known Manly too short a time to be any use to me in my quest to find out more about Ren and get in Manly's head about the crazy circumstances he'd plunged me into.

With that, we got down to business. We had mountains of material to cover. It took the better part of two hours to go through the lion's share.

"What about the staff?" I asked as the meeting wound down. "Manly must have left something to his longtime employees? That's traditional, isn't it?"

"He did, your grace. But, as his accountants will tell you, there are no funds left to allocate to anyone. He was deep in financial debt, on the brink of ruin, when he struck the deal with your mother. All debts are now settled, and with the influx of money you bring, the estate is in fine financial form. But the late duke had no cash assets or financial vehicles to leave to anyone."

"That doesn't seem fair to people," I said, making up my mind. "He didn't set up a retirement trust for them?"

"No, not that I'm aware of."

I frowned. "If I wanted to make good on Manly's wishes, would you guide me in how much would be appropriate to give each staff member for their years of service?"

"I'm at your service, duchess."

I smiled my thanks at him. "Then please, make up a spreadsheet for me as soon as possible. I'll talk to Mom and convince her to give me the necessary funds. People who've worked most of their careers for Manly deserve something for their years of faithful service."

"Quite right. I'll have that to you within the next few hours. Let me text my clerk and get her on the task." Thorne looked almost proud of me as he sent the text.

The meeting was concluding. I positioned myself on the edge of the chair, ready to walk Thorne out.

"One last thing before I go." Thorne pulled a letter from his briefcase. "The late duke instructed me to give this to you in the event that he died before your wedding."

I took it slowly. My name was written in Manly's hand on the envelope. Tears threatened again. "There were other letters? To be given to me if events had played out differently?" I turned to Thorne.

He nodded.

"I'd like them," I said when I found my voice again.

"They've been destroyed, I'm afraid. Per the late duke's instructions."