She almost laughed at the news. It was admirable how the Duke was committing himself to the role he had carved for himself.
She sat at one end of the long table alone, the priceless silver catching the light, the wine redder under the chandelier. For the first time in her life, Arabella was eating alone, and she had never eaten in such opulence. She finished the exquisite meal that was prepared for her, the servants standing in the silent room, watching her.
Then she went up to her quarters, where Winnie had drawn a bath for her, and then she changed into her nightgown. It was Alexandra who insisted she needed a special nightgown for the first night, and she didn’t have the heart to tell her how pointless that was. So she had picked an ivory nightgown with lace and mother-of-pearl buttons.
She dismissed Winnie and sat down to brush her hair, letting the black mane of her hair finally cascade down her shoulders. She took the brush in her hands. Of all the things that were her mother’s, the mother she had never known, this was the oneArabella kept closest. It was as if she were there to brush her hair like a mother does for her daughter.
Her eyes glistened with ready tears, welled up from the million thoughts that went around her head. She finished and sat on the bed, looking at the fire. Winnie had explained, badly, things that she more or less knew.
What she didn’t know was whether the Duke was going to visit her. He didn’t care to see her the rest of the day, but this was their first night as husband and wife. Would he retreat to his chambers without even talking to her? He had made it clear that the extent of their agreement was purely transactional. Right before he threw her against the bookcase in his wretched study.
Arabella inhaled to control her flaring emotions. That was before. Before she agreed to this. Before he dismissed her that night. Before she became the Duchess of Albury.
She snuffed out the candles, leaving only the flames from the fireplace to shed light on the room. She grabbed the rope of her robe as she was ready to slip into her bed.
And then… a knock.
CHAPTER 14
Late Night Calls
The knock came again, more persistent this time, and that’s how she knew that this was neither her maid nor any of the staff. It was not a polite or careful knock, but it carried authority. The one who knocked owned this door and everything around it. Gerald.
“Arabella?” His voice carried through the thick wood, rough and hoarse.
Arabella couldn’t help her first reaction, which was to roll her eyes in a totally unladylike way. But she found it fit for the occasion. Of course, he would appear right at the moment that she had made her peace with the fact that he wouldn’t call upon her that night. She had resolved that her first night as a married woman would be unremarkable. All she had to do was slip under the covers and let this day pass so that she could move on. It was a good plan, a solid plan, and she was proud of it.
It took a lot from her to get to this point. She went through all the stages of grief, from denial to a fragile acceptance. And right at this moment, when she had her hard-earned peace, he came and shattered the illusion she was clinging to.
“Are you awake, Arabella?” he insisted.
Sighing and trembling from anticipation at the same time, she opened the door.
Gerald was standing there. He had taken off his coat and his waistcoat, his cravat was loose, letting his collarbone show. He had rolled the sleeves of his shirt to reveal his forearms, and the suspenders of his breeches were hanging on loosely.
It was the first time that Arabella saw the Duke so disheveled. Not even when she visited him in the middle of the night was he this informal, even though he was alone in the house.
All day, every little thing insisted on reminding her that she was now the Duchess of Albury. So much so that she had forgotten one small thing. She was also a married woman. Seeing the always presentable and proper Duke seeking her out in this complete state of ease was a reminder of that. She was now officially the only woman who was entitled to see him so.
“It’s very good that you are awake,” he said and entered her room without further ceremony. “I should wish to talk with you if you have a moment.”
Arabella was stunned by his intrusion and truly believed she had every right to be. This man had ignored her, quite bluntly, all day, and now he very nonchalantly entered her room to talk about an issue on their wedding night. Surely some astonishment was in order, to say the least.
“There is a matter of utmost importance that I have to discuss with you before I let you rest.”
“How generous of you to think of my sleep, Your Grace,” she said dryly.
“Is it spite that I am hearing in the tone of your voice?”
Since the correct answer to this question was a simple, clear yes, Arabella decided that the best course of action on this occasion was to say nothing.
The Duke made his way to the armchair by the fireplace and motioned for her to sit on the little sofa. She would really love to argue, but she was too exhausted to do so. And on the other hand, the Duke was there to discuss their business collaboration, as was their marriage agreement. Although in the future she should enforce some kind of schedule and formal working hours, in which he could demand business interaction from her.
“Of course, Your Grace,” she deadpanned. “If it is a matter ofutmost importance, I am listening.”
If the Duke had heard the blatant sarcasm in her words, he chose to ignore them.
Arabella made her way to the little sofa, looking at him, gazing upon the fire. After her first frustration evaporated, only then did Arabella fully comprehend the state in which the Duke currently stood. The dance of the flames caught every sharp angle of his face, making him look even more dangerous than he did under the light of day. His usually composed appearance gave the impression that this was a civilized man. But with his veiny arms and the strong collarbone exposed, that impression was reevaluated.
