Page 12 of A Virgin for the Cruel Duke

“Now,” he said. “Go about your days. I have a great deal to work on. I will see you at luncheon.”

It was a little later in the morning when Stephen laid down his quill and massaged at his temples. No matter how much he needed to concentrate on the expenses and profits report from his solicitors he was struggling to focus.

No matter how much he might have stood against his siblings on the matter, he could not deny that having them and his wife stay estranged would do no good to the hard fought for and barely won truce that the wedding had been intended to create.

If she continued to avoid his brother and sisters it would only breed suspicion and resentment in them. On the happenstance that she was not intending to cause insult their changing manner towards her would in turn cause her own feelings of resentment to breed like a terrible endless cycle and one that he must be responsible for ending.

He rubbed at his eyes and wished, not for the first time, that he could ask his father’s advice. The previous Duke of Westall had been a quiet serious man who had seemed to manage everything about the estate with a deftness that Stephen both envied and desired. Perhaps it was how young they had all been when theirfather had been stolen from them by Albert Barnes, but it had truly felt as though he were infallible.

Stephen wondered what he might say if he knew how his eldest son had gone about ending the age-old feud.

Perhaps he would be proud, perhaps not. Either way Stephen would not and could not regret his actions. He would see no more duels, no more death, no more disaster. The truce would last, the peace would live even if he had to shut up his siblings and his wife in a room until they were friends!

With that in mind he stood briskly from his desk and strode from the room. It was pointless to pursue his work further until he had taken steps to suit action to plan.

As he walked briskly through the halls he caught a glimpse of a woman’s figure in the distance and knew immediately it must be Elizabeth. She was walking with her young maid, their heads bent together - the golden hair of his wife contrasted against the dark locks of the maid.

They were so caught up in conversation that they did not see him approaching until he was nearly upon them and he was able to see them laughing and hear their light conversation.

“Ah Your Grace, but you cannot be surprised by it. All such places have them - and you will get used to them soon enough.”

“I cannot countenance that, Sally. They are such loud creatures. I shall be hearing that unsettling cry in my sleep, I am sure of it!”

“There’s no doubt that you shall, Your Grace, but more likely because they will be calling to each other on the grounds and not because of any nightmares. I hear that His Grace, the Duke of Rosenburg, was intending on getting some peacocks soon, but I doubt that they will be able to out-scream your sisters of a morning.”

Elizabeth smiled, bright and amused - an expression that was so strikingly new to Stephen that he darted forwards and called her name.

She looked up and her face fell into a cold, polite expression as she and her maid curtseyed. “Your Grace.”

“Come now, surely we are less formal than this by now, Elizabeth,” Stephen said. He felt disappointed to see her smile go and illogically angry at her for making him feel something so absurd. Did he really want her to smileat himso badly? “Good morrow to you. I have come to ask why you did not attend breakfast with the family.”

She flushed a little and he was pleased to see it. He knew exactly what she was thinking about, the moment on the bed where his hand was placed across her breast and his mouth on her neck and she writhed beneath him for more.

It was good to see that he could affect her as much as she was affecting him.

“Forgive me,” she said, frowning a little. “I did not know I was allowed to attend.”

It was so strange an answer that Stephen did not immediately reply and she hurried to fill the silence, her cheeks darkening in color as she avoided his gaze.

“I have not been abed all morning, however. I spoke to your housekeeper, Mrs. Pugh, and she has shown me about the estate so I can better understand my new home since I did not receive a tour yesterday.”

This was clearly a reproval aimed at himself and Stephen frowned at her. He had barely had time to deal with all the matter pertaining to the wedding, let alone showing her around the estate. He had meant to do it today, and would be having words with Mrs. Pugh about taking on the duties in his stead. “I trust you are satisfied with the place? Apart from the peacocks apparently?”

She blinked in surprise, then seemed to realize he had heard at least part of her conversation with her maid. “I cannot imagine becoming fond of the creatures, they seem angry and loud and extraordinarily tuneless, like a child trying to play the trumpet.”

“It’s not a bad comparison,” he allowed. “I expect that you have not yet seen them display their beautiful tails. The male peacocks do so to tell the lady of their desire that they are interested in them.”

Their eyes met and hers slid away from his.

“The rest of the estate is very beautiful,” she said simply, and he was a little disappointed at the lack of fire in her tone. “I am sure I will get lost for a while to come, there are so many rooms.”

“You will get used to it,” he said briskly. “And in future if you have any questions about it you are to come to me, do you understand?”

“Is that an order, Your Grace?” she asked, a little of the fire reentering her gaze.

“If you follow orders,” he said. “I have seen little evidence to the fact.”

She huffed crossly and folded her hands. “I can understand simple instructions, I’m sure.”

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