“I hope that’s the truth,” she said at last. “You’re right. There’s only one thing you promised me when we entered into this marriage, and I would truly hate to discover that you’re the kind of man who doesn’t keep his promises.”
Arthur didn’t know how to process the effect those words had on him. All he knew was that he was filled with a sudden dread at the thought of letting her down again. He didn’t want to see her eyes lose their sparkle, and he didn’t want to reckon with the day she might stop trying to spar with him over breakfast.
I’m not in love with her, he told himself again.
But if he hadn’t known better, he might have been starting to worry about the state of his heart.
CHAPTER 11
So, I am to be a duchess and nothing more? Very well, then!
Isabella made up her mind quickly that she wasn’t going to sulk about the things her life would not include. She couldn’t deny to herself that she had dreamed of becoming a mother one day, but if the Duke was determined that her life wouldn’t include that particular joy, there was very little she could do about it.
She set about finding other things to do instead. “I think we should get new curtains for the dining room,” she told the housekeeper, Mrs. Flowers, at the start of her second week.
Mrs. Flowers looked a bit uneasy. “Has the Duke approved that, Your Grace?”
“I haven’t spoken to him about it,” Isabella said, shrugging. “But this house is my home too, is it not? Shouldn’t I be able to make changes to it as I see fit?”
She actually didn’t know. Her own mother, of course, had never done anything of the kind thanks to her position as a maid. As for Rosalind’s mother, she had always been extremely obedient to her husband’s wishes—she’d never been the sort of person to try to do something without consulting the Viscount first. Was it appropriate for the lady of the house to make changes without talking to her husband first, or was Isabella crossing a line by attempting to do so?
In the end, she reassured herself that she had been given only three rules to follow, and none of them had anything to do with curtains. If Arthur took issue with her making changes to the house, she would tell him that he was at fault for her confusion because he hadn’t outlined his own rules clearly enough. She actually smiled a little at the thought of that conversation. Her time here might have been a bit contentious, but Isabella was coming to realize that she enjoyed arguing with people who didn’t mind arguing with her. Unlike her father and Rosalind, Arthur never turned vicious or mean in their arguments. They were both trying to win the debates, but Isabella could tell that they weren’t trying to hurt one another. She hadn’t realized that arguments between two people could be like that, and it was a welcome discovery.
She almost hoped that he would be put out about the curtains. It would be fun to tell him why he was wrong. It would make for lively dinner conversation between the two of them. And since they weren’t going to bond with one another in the usual ways of a husband and wife, these debates were a good way for them to share a sort of intimacy. It wasn’t as if just anyone could argue with a Duke. Youhadto be his wife to do it the way she could.
If Isabella was excited at the prospect, though, it was clear that Mrs. Flowers felt differently. “I wouldn’t want to cause him any reason to lash out, Your Grace,” she said. “I don’t want to make him angry. Perhaps you had better speak to him before we do anything.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it, Mrs. Flowers.” Isabella waved a hand dismissively. “If the Duke is upset about something as mundane as new curtains, he can take that up with me. I’d be happy to tell him how he ought to respond to having a lovely new addition to his home.”
“You ought to be cautious in the way you deal with him,” Mrs. Flowers said warningly. “You have yet to see him angry.”
“Is he difficult when he’s angry, then?”
“He can be very unpleasant.” Mrs. Flowers frowned. “I really shouldn’t say these things to you.”
“You can say whatever you’d like to me,” Isabella said. “If it’s your own safety you’re worried about, Mrs. Flowers, I can assure you that I’ll keep our conversations in strict confidence. I know how important it is to have someone you can speak to and trust that your words will remain secret.”
“Well…” Mrs. Flowers sighed. “I suppose you know that your husband came to the dukedom in a bit of an unorthodox way.”
“What do you mean?”
“You truly don’t know?”
“I don’t know anything about him,” Isabella said. “Almost nobody does. He’s one of the least well-understood people in all of London. No one has ever spent time with him. And because he and I didn’t have a courtship to speak of, I didn’t have the opportunity to learn anything about him, either. I’m sure I know less about him than almost anyone else because the two of us have only spent a couple of days together.”
“That’s true,” Mrs. Flowers said. “Well, the Duke was raised by his aunt. It was a distant relative of hers who was the last Duke, so they say, and after the late Duke and Duchess passed, the title and the lands went to His Grace. Well, that’s as it ought to be, of course—the late Duke had no heir of his own, and I believe part of the reason he left the title to your duke was so that he would be able to name a successor. But he didn’t come to live here in this house until he was an adult. He had several years in which to learn how to conduct himself as a duke, but it’s always been just a little bit foreign to him—just as being a duchess might be a little bit foreign to you now, Your Grace.”
That last comment was not spoken unkindly, and Mrs. Flowers gave Isabella a smile as if to reassure her that it was all right not to know everything about being a duchess just yet. Isabella decided not to take offense. It was a good thing to have an ally in this house.
“Is that why he’s such a recluse?” she asked. “Because he doesn’t know quite how to conduct himself among society?”
“No, that’s not entirely it,” Mrs. Flowers said. “He doesn’t have any particular interest in going out among people. To tell you the truth, I was surprised even to see him taking a wife.”
“He does go out,” Isabella said. “He’s never home during the day, but he isn’t socializing.”
The mystery of that had worried her a little bit. What was he doing out of the house for such long hours every day? Why did he come home so late every night? She didn’t know, and she found herself wondering whether it might not be some sort of nefarious thing. Was it possible that he had another woman on the side, one hedidlove? Was that who he was going out to meet every evening? Was she being played for a fool?
Surely not. If that was the way things were, why wouldn’t he have simply married that woman?
