Camelia refused to look at him. She knew she was in trouble; she felt the familiar ache in the pit of her stomach.
It wasn’t fear, but a delicious pain that drew her to him, and she struggled to understand it.
His promises of taming her after kissing her so deeply made her question everything with maddening curiosity. The wedding was a blur to her, and so was the memory of their passionate kiss.
She questioned the reality of it and briefly wondered if she had just dreamt it all up. But the taste of him stayed on the tip of her tongue like sweet evidence of their desire for each other.
“Camelia.”
The sound of her name on his tongue made her shiver.
Camelia shifted her gaze towards him. His striking features always made her breath catch and her pulse quicken. She could hardly believe that she was married to him.
“Yes?” she asked stiffly.
“Your duties as the Duchess of Brentmere will be discussed in detail tomorrow morning. But I expect you to consider it all secondary to Pamela.”
Her heart softened as she considered his words.
“Even your wifely duties come second to Pamela,” he added.
“I understand, but?—”
“I will hear no argument.” His cold gaze made her bite her tongue.
What of the heir he so desires?
She wanted to remind him of that, but she kept her mouth shut. She had no idea what awaited her in his bed, in his life, only that he made her skin tingle, her stomach flutter, and her thighs clench with a need she refused to name.
When he had kissed her, rough and claiming, her body had threatened to shatter in his arms like crystal struck by ahammer. She had hated him for it, and yet she had savored every treacherous second.
“We’re here,” the Duke said gruffly when the carriage halted.
Camelia accepted his hand this time and stepped out of the carriage, her ivory gown whispering in the wind while she took in the sprawling grandeur of Brentmere Manor.
She fought the urge to question the Duke.
The ride was short and intense with a silence that felt like a burning flame between them. Camelia let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding as she took in the looming estate before her. Its stone façade was bathed in the golden afternoon light and flanked by meticulously manicured gardens. Vibrant roses burst through the neatly trimmed hedges, and the air carried their sweet scent.
She couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer elegance of it all.
“It’s… magnificent, like something from a dream.”
My new home.
The Duke offered his arm without looking at her. “You will see the entire estate tomorrow,” he said briskly.
Camelia looped her arm through his, her heart fluttering at the contact. “It’s breathtaking, Your Grace. The gardens… they’re like a painting come to life. I’ve never seen such beauty.”
She felt his dark blue eyes on her, but feared to search their depths.
“There’s something I need to address before the wedding breakfast.” He paused, his jaw tightening as they walked towards the front door. “Your family’s display at the church was… improper, to say the least. Tears and embraces in public or any such emotional excess have no place in Brentmere Manor and among the ton.”
Camelia’s brow furrowed. “Improper? Your Grace, that’s what happens when people have hearts and truly care for one another. My father and sisters love me. They shed tears of joy and sorrow. Would you rather have them stand stone-faced like statues?”
He stopped suddenly, and she stumbled. She turned to face him and was taken aback by how his frame towered over her.
“Love is fine inprivate, Camelia. But in public, restraint is key. You’re a duchess now, and your actions reflect on me,” he said coldly.
