Still, the young duke remained hopeful.

The poor fool actually thought that perhaps there were still ways to salvage the circumstances.

When the woman’s cousin had come upon them, his large hands were only lingering a little bit upon her pair of very soft bosoms.

And her relative only screamed maybe just a tad bit louder than one normally should. Not that loud at all, actually.

It only drew a small bit of a crowd outside the bedroom door. Not that many people, honestly.

And they were mostly not peering inside the room. Mostly.

Ah… At this point, the poor fool still had maybe a little bit of hope flickering within him.

Just a little bit. This idiot.

‘Surely, this can still be salvaged,’ Ainsley thought, shifting his eyes to those around the drawing room. ‘Surely, this isn’t the end.’

Yet as his blood shot eyes scanned the grim faces of the few existing within the space, even Ainsley knew it was over…

The Devil himself was at play here! The flickering light from the burning fireplace cast dark shadows upon the walls that looked like demons dancing upon his grave.

His poor bachelorhood… Given up without even a whimper.

The battle that he had long fought for his single status was lost, and the enemy was now waving their flags of victory!

Or rather—they were waving a special marriage license that her grandfather managed to obtain in haste.

‘Who the hell would issue a marriage license at this time of day…?!’ Ainsley thought, feeling outraged. ‘Do they hand them out like candy to children…?! This is a conspiracy!’

Unfortunately for the young duke, he didn’t have the sobriety to not voice his opinions aloud.

The sharp responses that thundered down upon his head from the elders were enough to shrivel him on the spot.

His life was over.

A sinking feeling, which announced occupancy in the depths of his stomach earlier, began to settle comfortably into its new home.

Ironically, his thoughts wandered to that fateful night at White’s—when he and his coven of rakehells were mercilessly mocking poor Crumley and the horrid fate that befell him. The man lost his bachelorhood to a scheming lady who had crawled into his bed while the chump was sound asleep!

Trapped like an animal! Ainsley hoped that Crumley could’ve at least pleaded his case before surrendering his bachelor card to a life of wedded hell.

Imagine being shackled to the same woman for the rest of his life! This was the very reality poor Ainsley was facing now!

Well… As disgruntled as this young duke was… Even he must admit that there was no foul play here. For it was his drunken arse who had wandered into the wrong room and fell into the wrong bed!

He would argue that his biggest mistake was not realizing sooner that the softness beneath him was not a pillow! For if he had known, the man would’ve flung himself out of the window to avoid getting caught in the damning position!

Though one would question whether he was truly lying to himself. For Ainsley not only squeezed said ‘pillow,’ he was also snuggling quite comfortably against it for warmth.

One would even say he was in the midst of complimenting said ‘pillow’ when it squealed!

The drunken sod may not have registered what that squeal meant, but surely in the back of his mind, he knew it was not a ‘pillow.’ His hands surely recognized it was no ‘pillow’ they were squeezing. But rather, the most perfectly soft pair of boobs on this side of the pond!

The fool even had the audacity to enjoy it!

By the time the second squeal came, it was already too late!

The chamber’s doors slammed open with such intensity that the walls shook—as if Greek Gods descended upon him with a wrath!

Unfortunately for him, he was not going to be smited by deities from the classics today. Rather, it was first her cousin—the one he was flirting shamelessly with before this evening ended in travesty.

Then, it was a gaggle of matronly mamas who shrieked as if he was squeezing them!

The shrill sound from their voices still rang in his head like incessant chimes!

By the time the young duke gathered his wits about him, he was already being pried from the bed by the hands of his peers.

“Gads! You’ve really done it now, Ainsley!” an all too familiar voice had said to him, but he was too drunk to register who it was.

As he was dragged from the room, his eyes briefly caught a glimpse of a pale face that bordered on shock and perhaps a bit of fear. Her face triggered a slight sense of recognition, but he could not recall where they had met!

Before he knew it, the Duke of Savannah was dragged like a criminal to face a firing squad of elders. With no trial to be had, their muskets were ready to send him to the depths of marital hell.

His crime? Getting too attached to a ‘pillow’ that might have been a pair of really soft boobs.

His life was truly over.

Ainsley briefly wondered if it was too late to become a monk. Surely becoming a monk would be more enjoyable than sitting in this room and dodging the condemning stares from the mamas of his peers!

As his eyes darted here and there like a trapped squirrel searching for an escape route, it was then that they finally met a pair of green ones—which looked upon him with much less hatred than the others.

As a matter of fact, she didn’t look like she hated him at all!

How refreshing!

What a wonderful chit! Surely the gods must’ve sent her here to help him! The others should learn from her. Hating someone requires so much energy.

Seated at the opposite end of the room, the lady was dressed in her nightgown with a blanket draped about her. She looked rather like a waif huddling next to the fireplace for a tad bit of warmth.

Ainsley was too inebriated to decide whether she was beautiful or not—for his vision faded in and out. How inconvenient.

But if she could assist him in escaping this mess, he will make it a priority to buy this poor girl some new clothes!

At the moment, he wondered if his eyes were playing tricks upon him. The girl looked as if she might be mouthing some words in his direction.

Was she sharing her escape plan on how to leave this ungodly place…? Well… If that was the case, he should at least know her name.

Even this drunken fool knew that one must never go anywhere with complete strangers.

Leaning over to the matron who was seated beside him and looking upon him with sheer disdain, Ainsley inquired curiously, “My dear lady… Would you happen to know who that chit across the room might be…? The one who is in need of new clothes. I believe I have misplaced her name.”

This matron, who was actually her aunt, looked as if she might smack him! The woman was so offended, she nearly huffed her answer out in smoke!

“Have you also misplaced your brain…?! That chit is your wife! Are you foxed…?!”

“Well, obviously I’m foxed” was the dry response that came from his lips. But that was before the meaning of her words truly sank in.

Before he cursed in colorful splendor, “Oh fuc—!”

Poor Ainsley got smacked by her aunt, after all.