“I thought we should discuss the practical arrangements of our marriage,” he explained, silent until they reached the top of the stairs. “Have you seen your bedroom?”
“I have, when I arrived,” she said, silently adding,when you left me completely alone.
“It is attached to mine through the dressing room,” he said, pointing from the door of her room to his as they stood in the corridor. “Should you ever need anything, please knock.”
Knock. Not walk into her husband’s room uninvited, of course.
“Your schedule is yours,” he continued, as he stayed within the corridor, rocking back and forth from his heels to his toes, his hands clasped behind his back. “If there are any events that I require you to attend, I will be sure to tell you. The household is yours to run as you wish. My mother can provide you with any advice that you need.”
His mother. Not him. The mother, who had been rather cold to her and had barely spoken to her since their wedding had been announced.
“Your mother is free to continue running the household, if she wishes to,” Evelyn said. “I would not be bothered in the least.”
Asher looked at her as though she had grown a second head.
“That is your job now.”
“I know, but I?—”
“My mother prefers everything to be as expected,” he said. “She was raised to be the wife of a duke, and she has lived her life accordingly.”
Just as Evelyn thought, and so opposite to her own upbringing.
She only nodded, even though she was internally unsettled.
When Asher finally left, she looked in the mirror of her vanity, finding a married woman who felt like a stranger staring back at her.
She thought of Asher, who had steadied her at the altar, had spoken to her like a friend in the carriage, had given her reason to believe that perhaps they could at least be companionable.
Then she remembered all that had occurred since arriving here, how cold he had become, slipping back into that role of ducal authority so easily.
If only she’d had more time to learn what she was signing up for.
But that dream had passed.
She would have to forge a life that worked for her.
Or else she would completely lose herself.
Which was one thing she refused to allow.
Of that, she was certain.
9
The wedding guests had left rather hurriedly after the meal, likely all reading into the awkwardness between a bride and groom who hardly knew one another within a room full of people who all questioned whether this had been the right choice.
Evelyn’s father had been the first to leave, after a particularly long farewell to the dowager duchess more than Evelyn. She tried to console herself by remembering that he was adjusting to the newness of the situation as well.
Verity had given her one more reminder that she was there to help in any way she could.
The only one who surprised Evelyn was, actually, Lord Julian.
He had bowed over her hand as he said his farewells before leaning in closer to her, his voice so low that it was nearly a murmur.
“He’ll warm up,” he said, for Evelyn’s ears alone. “He’s been so focused on being the duke that he’s forgotten to be himself. Perhaps you’ll help him find that man he used to be again.”
Before she could close her mouth and attempt to find appropriate words for a response, he had winked at her and slipped out the door.
