“Good,” he replied. “Because if you decide to, you will quickly realize that it is a useless endeavour.”
His words unsettled her, and she wondered what she had gotten herself into, but whatever it was, it was too late now. They had already been bonded together in marriage for better or for worse.
The rest of the ride passed in silence.
When they arrived at the Duke’s estate—their home now, she supposed—Evan barely glanced at her as he stepped out of the carriage.
“Welcome to your new life, sweetheart,” he said over his shoulder. “The staff will help you to your room and provide you with anything that you might need. I have already instructed them.”
And then without anything else, he just left her standing here.
“Your Grace.” A woman rushed over to her. “Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Mrs. Wilson, the head maid at the estate. I shall accompany you to your chambers.”
Isadora could only nod slowly, watching Evan’s figure grow smaller as he walked away and then eventually disappeared at the top of the stairs.
Seeing as her husband had decided to take his leave, Isadora did not have much of a choice.
“Lead the way,” she sighed.
CHAPTER 7
“Has he forgotten me?”
Her new life,it seemed, was shaping up to be quite lonely.
Isadora sat at the vanity, brushing her hair with deliberate strokes, not because she needed to—her maid had already seen to it—but because she needed something to do. Something to occupy her mind.
It was bad enough that she had to get used to living in an entirely new setting, but she had not expected herself to be alone for most of that time. Ever since she had arrived, Evan had been nowhere to be seen.
Surely he will come and visit when it is time to retire to bed.
She had told herself this—a small hope, perhaps—for this was meant to be an important occasion.
She knew what was supposed to happen.
A wedding night was not merely a tradition but an expectation. Perhaps even more important than the ceremony itself. She had never heard of a situation where a husband simply forgets.
But time was passing, and it appeared that the Duke had no plans to come to her chambers.
At first, she had told herself she was relieved.
Had she not been dreading this? Had she not spent the entire day convincing herself that, despite the vows spoken, this was not a real marriage?
And yet, something about his absence set her off. It was another instance of his audacity. And so, she rose from her chair and strode toward the door.
If Evan thought he could simply ignore her, he was mistaken.
She marched through the quiet halls of the Duke’s estate. A few servants lingered, eyes flicking toward her, but they said nothing.
“Where is His Grace?” she asked one of the maids.
“The study,” the woman informed her promptly. It occurred to Isadora then that the last time she had visited this place, she had worried that she could get kicked out. Now, it was her home.
Strange how quickly things had changed.
“I see,” she replied, brusquely, and she marched over there, already knowing her way.
Where else would a man like Evan Marwood be on his wedding night but locked away with his brandy and his business? She did not bother to knock and simply entered.
