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

looked back at the fresh welt on her neck. A few days old. Croft had struck her on the eve of the wedding. “Discipline,” Arthur repeated, the word tasting like bile. He reached down. Beatrice squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the blow. Her shoulders hunched inward, protecting her head.

The blow never came. Instead, Arthur caught the heavy silk of continue reading …