Sebastian’s jaw worked as he stared at his wife. How had she endeavored to do this? He had been so certain no one would attend—and certainly, the attendee had been new to the area,which explained why she had not fallen foul of the same prejudice.
But knowing Aurelia had somehow succeeded despite all the odds pleased him in a way he could not tolerate. He had been plagued with visions of her sitting alone in the dining room, shunned by everyone she had invited, and the thought had left a bitter taste in his mouth.
But to pay a call on an associate in the area? He did not stoop to such things.
“You may do as you please, of course,” he murmured, pouring himself a little light ale.
Her hand tightened around her knife. “Is that all I am ever to expect?”
“Whatdidyou expect?” His gaze fell to her lips, and for once, he didn’t look away. “We both know what this is, Aurelia. And if you didn’t, then you surely do now. Did you think your scribbled and delivered marriage proposal would have you falling in love to live in a magical castle filled with joy and delight?”
He chuckled slowly, resisting the urge to go to her and seal her ajar mouth with his own. “That is not how this works. You are my wife, which means you are entitled to a certain level of respect in my house. You now have the title of duchess, which ought to be a boon, considering the situation in which Mr. Arnold found you. And you will bear my heirs.”
He slammed his hand down on the table. “I am giving you time to acclimatize to this life before we begin, but we can start now, if you prefer.”
He rose and strode to her, taking her arm and hauling her out of the chair, pressing her against the wall. “Would you prefer me to take you like this? I can, you know. Say the word.” He leaned in closer, her shock giving way to something else that made his heart pound unevenly. All the blood in his body, or so it felt, flooded south.
“I have not given my permission,” she whispered.
“Then offer it to me.” He caught her chin in his fingers, forcing her to look at him. “Offer it to me, little mouse. I know you want to.”
Her tongue moved to wet her lips. He wanted very much to kiss those pretty lips, to force her to submit to him, but he would not do so without permission. Even now, he held her in such a way that she could have pulled free if she chose. She stared up at him, her eyes dark, pupils dilated, and he felt certain she would give in. Offer him the surrender he desired, and allow him a kiss, at the very least.
Instead, she just continued to stare, her brows pulling together as though he was a puzzle she had yet to decipher. A mystery.
And instead of offering herself to him, she said the last thing he would have expected. “What was the name of your first wife?”
Aurelia could hardly believe her own daring. Asking him about his wife seemed like a bold step too far. But she couldn’t help herself—she had been plagued with thoughts of this lady ever since Lady Mary Ann had brought her up. And as Lady Mary Ann had not lived in the area during his marriage, she would get no information from there.
All she could do was ask someone. The person her mind had insisted she ask, it transpired, was the duke himself.
She watched as confusion swept across his face, followed by fury, then a peculiar blankness.
“So,” he declared, his voice cold. He released her chin, stepping back as though he had not been on the verge of kissing her. And though she knew she ought to feel nothing at that, her stomach dropped in disappointment. “You know about my late wife.”
This was not a question.
While Aurelia had not suspected this wife of not existing, its confirmation still came as a kind of shock. She gathered herself as best she could. “I do, sir.”
“Who told you?”
She saw no reason to lie. “Lady Mary Ann.”
“I… see.”
“I am surprised you did not inform me of your marriage yourself.”
His gaze traveled from her eyes to her mouth, then back up. “If you did not already know of my marriage, then I see no reason why I should have informed you. My history is none of your concern.”
She wanted to point out that he consideredherpast his business—if he had not, he would not have used her situation against her in choosing her for this marriage. Perhaps if she’d had a better knowledge of theton, she might have known.
But he had several years on her.
During his marriage, Aurelia had quite possibly been living at home, unaware of most things to do with theton. It was only after she began working for the Duchess of Fenwick that she began to pick some things up. And that was after, presumably, the duke’s marriage.
She didn’t even recall any gossip about his wife’s death.
Had she simply not been looking?
