Chapter Five
Lady Freya
“You must eat, dearest.”
I snap out of my daydreams and turn toward my lady mother. “Oh. I do not believe anything would sit well with me just now. Thank you for your concern, Mother.” I reach for her hand and give it a squeeze to show her I am in earnest.
She smiles faintly. “I must insist, Freya. I want you to maintain your composure, and coloring while you are with your betrothed. It will not do to have you faint or ill-tempered with His Grace.”
“I could not possibly eat a bite, Mama.”
“My dear, think of how warm it will be today, and?—”
“This subject is best left alone, I think,” my father interjects, not looking up from his newspaper.
My mother falls into obedient silence, and for this, I am grateful, though my father has done little else to assist me since he learned of my condition. A week has passed since I was unwillingly affianced to The Duke of Fairwynd. In that time, my father has not spoken a single word to me.
He seems to have informed my mother of the change in my betrothal. I have no way of knowing what he said to her, thoughI am nearly certain he did not disclose my secret. For that, I am grateful. It has been enough of a shock to have him withhold his words and affection. I do not believe I could bear it if my mother did the same.
All too soon, we have finished the morning meal and have scarcely moved into the sitting room when the butler enters to announce the Duke’s arrival.
“You look lovely, dearest, do not fret.”
I do my best to return my mother’s smile, but there is a wild fluttering in both my breast and my stomach that causes my lips to tremble. “Thank you.”
The soft murmur of voices draws my ear, accompanied by a wild leap of my heart that I scarce understand.
“Freya?”
I turn to my lady mother expectantly.
Her familiar gaze searches my own, as though she might discern the answers to the odd change of circumstances in my expression. “I trust… you are content with the… new arrangement?” Her voice is soft enough to be for my ears alone.
I glance at the doorway where my father is just outside the sitting room, politely entertaining the Duke while we finish preparing to leave. “I… I shall make the best of things, Mama.” I manage to smile at last, seize her hand and give it a squeeze.
I release her hand quickly and turn away, not trusting myself to say more on the matter.
My mother must understand, for she says, “Come, let us not tempt the gentlemen’s patience any further.” She takes my arm firmly, and we emerge together.
I am glad of her unwavering presence. As soon as the Duke of Fairwynd’s gaze is upon me, a warmth steals through me, though my body trembles despite it.
“We are pleased you could join us this afternoon, Your Grace,” my mother says, the picture of poise and grace.She squeezes my arm with subtle pressure, hidden from the gentlemen in the room, prompting me to remember my duty.
“Good afternoon… I trust all is well.” I scarcely look at him before lowering my eyes to the stone floor, not allowing my gaze to linger.
“Indeed, itiswell.”
Even though we are standing well apart, his words caress my ear as though they have been whispered into it. I raise my eyes and risk a glance at him.
He is smiling that half-smile again, as though the devil can read my very thoughts.
My stomach is a mass of knots, and I fear my lady mother might be right after all. I am very unwell indeed.
Duke Gregor
I have never been an admirer of the many traditions the Beau Monde are forced to observe. Particularly, I have never been overly fond of promenading. But this day, or perhaps walking with Lady Freya, may yet reform me. The way the sun shines on her makes it appear that Heaven beams down favor upon her—or perhaps it is for me, so that I might better admire her.
I am so ensnared by her beauty that I have done little more than offer polite murmurings in answer to Lady Denham who keeps attempting to draw me into conversation. It is not my intention to offend, but I cannot seem to tear my gaze from Lady Freya. Her dark hair gleams under the sun, and she has a natural rosy hue to her creamy skin. Her full lips draw my eye and take me captive. Then there is the pulse in her throat, beating hard enough to attract my notice. It turns my thoughts to another afternoon we shared, with her draped over my knee, her palebottom on display as long as I cared to admire it. Of course, it did not remain pale for long. I made sure of that.
