How stupid! I was caught up in my own trap.
Elara looked up, taking in the parlor that Nora and Bridget had decorated with bright flowers and wide, elegant silk ribbons. She glanced at the spot by the hearth where she had just been married to Constantine, then at the two other tables set just beyond for their guests.
The list had been small. Bridget, Adrian, and Nora, of course. Caroline had come as well, and to Nora’s surprise, even her step-aunt and cousin had made an appearance for the ceremony, though they left right after. Damien, Adrian’s best friend, had come as well and had stayed close to his side except for when Adrian brought Elara to Constantine before the priest.
Elara had known Damien her entire life, and they loved each other like siblings—yet she was certain, as she watched her brother talk with Damien, that he was not there to attend her wedding, but to ensure Adrian did not lose his temper and attack her new husband.
The very thought made Elara’s stomach churn, and she turned her gaze away from the table of people she knew to the one she did not. In one seat was the priest who married them. In the next was the Mason family’s solicitor. In the third was Constantine’s solicitor. The two solicitors, along with Constantine and Adrian, had disappeared for nearly half an hour into Adrian’s study before the wedding started, and when they all returned, none looked too happy.
“You should eat something,” the Duke’s deep voice drew Elara from her shocked state, and she slowly turned her head to look at him. He kept his eyes on his plate as he cut a sausage into small pieces.
“I beg your pardon?” she rasped.
“I said you should eat something,” the Duke repeated in a calm tone. “You look as if you are about to faint.”
“Forgive my appearance,” she replied bitterly. “I have not had much of an appetite as of late.”
He then used his knife to scoop the cut-up sausage onto his fork and moved it to her empty plate.
“I am not hungry,” she whispered, looking down at the food before her.
To her surprise, Constantine speared one of the small pieces of sausage with his fork and held it up to her lips.
“I know you are not happy about this,” he said with a sigh of exhaustion. “I cannot say I am thrilled myself. However, you are my responsibility now, and I cannot and will not allow you to starve or faint. Eat. Now.”
Elara’s cheeks flushed with color as something other than sadness finally burned in her veins. She lifted her eyes to his, ready to glare at him in protest. But as she took in his green eyes, she saw the calm determination there. As much as she hated it, she knew he was right and that he most certainly was not going to put his fork down until she took a bite.
Instead of opening her mouth for him, she plucked the sausage from the prongs of the fork and shoved it into her mouth. She expected him to immediately chastise her for her lack of proper etiquette, but instead, he smirked and even let out a gruff chuckle.
She glared at him, but the small bite of food was enough to make her stomach roar for more. She picked up her own fork and began to eat what he had put on her plate. Just as shestabbed the last bite of sausage, though, a spoonful of scrambled eggs appeared from him. Again, she glared at him, but again she stabbed the eggs and ate them, feeling better with every bite. After the eggs, there were assorted fruits: melon, grapes, and strawberries. Then strips of poached fish. Then small squares of cake until her stomach was full for the first time in a week.
“Better?” the Duke murmured to her after she set her knife and fork on her plate, signaling she was done.
Elara nodded but did not look at him.
“You do not have to be happy about this marriage,” the Duke said quietly. “But you do have to take care of yourself. I will not have you skipping meals again.”
Alarmed at his demand, her eyes shot up to his.
“You cannot control such a thing,” she insisted.
Constantine only smirked.
“Oh, I have my ways. You would be surprised at what sort of control I can have over others,” Constantine replied.
Elara shifted in discomfort as she took in her new husband, wondering just what sort of man she had attached herself to.
“Elara, darling, might I steal you away from your husband for a moment?” Relief flooded Elara as she heard her mother’s voice.
“Of course you can, Mama,” Elara replied, wrenching her gaze away from her husband’s knowing look.
She rose from the table and followed Nora upstairs to her rooms. Alone, Nora began to wring her kerchief tightly.
“Is something the matter, Mama?” Elara asked, placing a hand gently over her mother’s.
Nora gave her a tentative smile and invited Elara to sit.
“I had planned... or rather, I had hoped this conversation would have gone differently. However, your engagement came and went so quickly that I only now realize we had yet to have it.”
