The Wedding Night Was a Cold Duty-Until the Duke Discovered the Marks She Hid Under Silk and Lace

it, on the fragile skin over her ribs, were bruises. They were in varying stages of decay. Some a sickly yellow-green, others a violent blooming purple. They were shaped like fingertips. Arthur stared. His mind, usually sharp and tactical, blanked completely.

He reached out—not with the intent of a husband, but with the instinct of a soldier finding continue reading …