Page 143 of The Boxing Baroness

She kissed his chest and continued. “I was appalled by what Dominic made people do. And everyone who worked for him was so desperate and beaten down. He held parties every night, and life became more sordid daily. And then I caught him in one of the guest chambers in bed with two women.”

Sin squeezed her tight but remained silent.

“I didn’t know what to do, Sin. I believed we were married and that I was trapped. It was . . . horrible. And then there was that announcement in the paper and I discovered that Dominic had already been married for almost a year.” She snorted. “I now suspect that he was behind the sudden, mysterious announcement—it was a perfect way to get rid of me without having to tell me the truth himself.” She pushed up onto her elbows, until she was looking down at him. “He knew who my father was by then—he’d seen the letter and locket. I’m guessing he’d had his escape from England planned for some time, and I believe he’d thought to use me when he went to France. I think he hoped I would be a feather in his cap when he entered French society. But then—”

“But then your father began to lose the war and being the son-in-law of Bonaparte would not be such a good move.”

She nodded. “I know this will sound like I’m trying to make excuses for being a silly fool, but I would swear on my life that the ceremony between us was real, Sin. I was so . . . shattered when I discovered the truth.”

“Dominic was a master of lies and deception, Marianne.” He smoothed his hand over the taut muscles of her stomach. “You have ample reason to be suspicious of men, but I swear to you I will always put your life, safety, and happiness before mine.”

She cupped his cheek, her expression more tender than any he’d ever seen. “I know. I never meant to impugn—”

“Hush,” he said, pulling her back down beside him. “Get some rest, darling,” he said, turning onto his side and tucking her against his chest.

“Tomorrow we get to Reims,” she said, and then yawned. “Who do you think will be waiting to see me, Sin?”

“I don’t know, darling.” But he hoped to God that whatever awaited her did not break her heart.

Chapter 34

Like every town they’d passed through—no matter the size—Reims was mobilizing for war.

Marianne had wanted to ride Reggie, but it had been Jo who’d—very quietly—suggested that she wear a dress when they’d all met at breakfast that morning.

“You are beautiful,” Sin murmured when Marianne nervously smoothed the elegant skirt of the gown she’d borrowed from Cecile.

Sin had shaved, but he still wore the clear spectacles and modest clothing.

They sat on the bench in the caravan and watched the bustling streets of Reims roll past their window.

Every newspaper along the way had lauded Bonaparte, repeatedly printing his already famous words from Grenoble when he’d stepped in front of royalist troops, ripped open his coat, and proclaimed, “If any of you will shoot his Emperor, here I am.”

Instead of shooting him, the troops had flocked to him like hens to corn.

He’d been in Paris for weeks now, dismantling France’s government and preparing for war while the allied coalition appeared to be dragging its feet.

Sin didn’t want to think of what the rest of this year—and probably the next few—would yield if Bonaparte wasn’t stopped before he could rouse the rest of the giant country to his defense.

Marianne pointed to the magnificent cathedral looming just ahead. “Notre-Dame de Reims,” she murmured. “It’s hard to imagine that its more famous namesake in Paris could be any grander, isn’t it?”

The Cathedral at Reims, as the English called it, was truly awe-inspiring, and their caravan seemed to be headed directly toward it.

Indeed, that was exactly where Jo pulled up.

Blithely ignoring the shouts of outraged French drivers, Jo hopped down from the bench—with Angus on her shoulder—and came around to open the door.

“Here is where you will get out, Marianne.” She reached into the satchel she kept slung across her body. “I meant to give you this earlier.” She pulled out a lacy black head covering, somewhat the worse for wear. “Put this on and sit in the back of the church—on the right-hand side, the last pew. Wait there, and someone will meet you.”

“How the devil can somebody meet her?” Sin demanded. “We only just rolled into town minutes ago.”

Jo’s opal gaze slid to the duke, and her lips curved into a faint smile. “Don’t worry, Your Grace. Marianne is expected.”

The irate Frenchman whose wagon was trapped behind them had had enough. He hopped down and stormed toward them, shouting all the way.

As Jo turned to face her aggressor, Sin pulled Marianne close and kissed her hard. “No matter what happens, or what you hear, know that I love you with all my heart.”

Marianne’s eyes prickled and she bit her lip, too afraid that she’d sob like a child if she opened her mouth.