“He is…” Mr. Watley considered as he nursed Harriet. “He is strict, and I will not deny it. But he is not mean or cruel. Rather, it is best to think of him as one who likes things done a certain way, and so long as it is done so, there is no need to worry about what he might do or how he might react.”
She frowned. “What does that mean?”
Oddly enough, Mr. Watley chuckled. “He has a quirk that I think might better explain it. When His Grace walks into a room, he often scans it, almost without thinking. If something is out of place, he will see it immediately, just as he will demand it returned. And when something breaks, let us say a vase, he will remove it himself as if he does not trust the staff to clean up the mess. It has always been this way…”
“That is… interesting,” she said.
“He is particular,” Mr. Watley agreed. “But it is done for good reason. He does not like mess, and that includes drama. Why, in all my years, I cannot think of a single time he has shown any interest in courtship or love.”
She blinked. “Truly? Not even once.”
“It is not his way, my lady.”
Well, that’s rather sad…
Ophelia’s face dropped and she did not bother hiding how sad that made her feel. For one to have never known love, or to have never even tried? What sort of life was that?
Of course, it wasn’t as if Ophelia was in any position to wax lyrically about her own life love. Once, she had been in love. And once, she had harbored desires to marry and live a life of untold happiness until the day that she died. In some ways, she still did… or she had. Even if it now appeared that such things would ever happen for her.
“It is no wonder he is so grumpy,” she said to herself.
Again, the seamstress chuckled.
“Oh, it is not so bad,” Mr. Watley said. “And His Grace–” Suddenly, Harriet started to cry.
“Give her to me.” Ophelia hurried across the room, much to the protests of the seamstress, and took Harriet in her arms. The baby stopped crying immediately, which made Ophelia smile as warmth spread throughout her body.
She nursed Harriet closely, refusing to consider what would happen when they found her true father. In fact, she allowed herself to wonder instead what sort of father the Duke might make.
A part of me thinks he would make a better one than he lets on.
Ophelia did not know her soon-to-be husband at all, but as she nursed Harriet in her arms, and as she looked at her dress in the mirror, she decided that needed to change. This would not be a love match, but that did not mean that she could not be happy. And such happiness would never be found if the Duke avoided her for the rest of their days.
That needed to change, and seeing as the Duke wasn’t going to be changing it, it would be up to her to do so.
CHAPTER 6
It was later that same evening when Ophelia found herself outside the Duke’s office. She knew that was where he spent most of his time, just as she knew he was there right now. Not hiding, she told herself, as he was busy making arrangements for their wedding, but it sure felt as if he was.
I need to know what I am getting myself into. I need to know that this is my only option and that it won’t be the end of me…
With that in mind, Ophelia took in a deep breath, knocked once, and then popped the door open.
“Your Grace,” she said as she gently stepped inside. “Might we speak for a moment?”
Vermont Manor was as cold a home as Ophelia had ever been inside. A castle of gray and black, every room and every hallway carried with it a sense of dread that made her shiver even whenbathed in sun. As was to be expected, the Duke's office was no exception.
It was large in size but cramped with shelves so it appeared much smaller. There was no window to speak of, and the only light came from a single candle that sat on the edge of the Duke’s desk. The light from that candle, while bright, struggled to reach the Duke as if even the light feared touching him.
He was a shadow in the darkness, hunched over the desk, monstrous and scary in a way that Ophelia guessed to be on purpose.
But he isn’t scary… not nearly as much as he wants us to believe.
Ophelia studied him as she stepped into the office. She found his face in the dark, as she found his blue eyes, and she did not see anger or wickedness in them..
“What is it?” he asked sharply. A quick glance up from his work and he looked back down. “I am rather busy, Ophelia. There is a lot to do.”
“This will only take a moment…” She edged further into the room, her body shaking, even if she was not afraid. It was just how dark the office was, a contrast to the light that she preferred.
