I slammed the door to Mitchell’s room behind me, shutting out the prying eyes of the guards who didn’t dare speak, though I could feel their fear thickening the air around me. I had made it clear, painfully clear, that no one—not a single soul—was to set foot in this room. Not even my duke or marquess, who would usually stand by my side in matters like this. This was mine. She was mine. And yet, every inch of this room reminded me that Mitchell had kept her distance, kept me out in more ways than one.
The smell of roses and the faint trace of pine were still here, clinging to the sheets, wrapping themselves around me like an invisible chain. I could almost see her here, sitting in that chair by the fire, her expression soft, maybe a smile touching her lips. But that was just a fantasy, wa
