Page 20 of A Virgin for the Cruel Duke

“No, no, of course. Go and get your home life sorted!”

It was a good way of looking at it, and Stephen left the Stapleton manor with a lighter heart than he had felt for weeks.

He arrived back home two days later with mysterious and elegantly wrapped boxes and parcels piled in the coach with him and a sense of satisfaction in his heart.

It was no simple feat to procure clothes so swiftly and in fact Stephen had been required to bring to bear the weight of his name and his fortune at the dressmaker to achieve the miracle of two gowns in so short a time frame.

When the small woman, an older lady with thin nimble fingers, had prevaricated over her ability to keep her staff late and how she would needs do away with any other business over the period that she would be working on his order, Stephen had taken his card, laid it on her desk and said ‘Madam, I shall buy your whole shop if I need to’.

All other problems disappeared quickly afterwards once he had assured the lady that he had his lady’s measurements to hand after the wedding and would be returning to her for less urgent services at a later date.

It was the work of a busy afternoon to buy the other necessities, the headdresses and jewelry and muffs that he knew were in fashion. He had noticed how simply and almost invisibly Elizabeth dressed, always seeming to be trying to melt into the background and dammit that was not how his wife was going to present herself.

At last he was back home and he would be able to bring her the gifts he had collected. It had been hard to keep the secret from his siblings and their inquisitive questions, and even harder somehow not to tell Elizabeth that he was preparing something for her. The idea that she might be pleased, might be excited and smile upon him was a pleasant one.

One of the servants needed to help him with all the bags and boxes, and Stephen led the way, striding down the hall towards Elizabeth’s room with one of the boxed gowns under one arm.

He knocked and pushed the door open when she answered, waiting for the servant to leave his parcels and close the door behind himself before turning to his wife. She was sitting at the vanity, a hairbrush in her hand and a look of such surprise and confusion on her face that he found himself amused by it.

“Here,” he said, putting the box on her lap. “The rest are yours as well, but you may as well start with this one.”

“What - what is -” she stopped and fell to opening the box, giving a little gasp that thrilled his heart as folds of exquisite peach satin spilled out over her lap. He had thought long and hard about the best color for the first gown he would buy her. Something that represented her beauty, that would offset her coloring and her fair hair. It was both a sensual and an innocent color, which he felt suited her well. She ran a hand over the fabric in silence, her eyes wide.

This was encouraging, so Stephen reached into his pocket and put another box in her lap. “This accompanies it.”

She opened the box without a word, revealing the glittering pink topaz set of necklace and earrings that he had selected at the finest jeweler he could reach without going all the way to London.

Yes. This was going well. Stephen thought to himself and waited for Elizabeth to start the effusive sort of thanks his sisters always fell into whenever he got them something special. Of course in those situations he had the delight of showering gifts on someone he loved, whereas here naturally it was just to keep the peace.

“I can’t accept this,” she said, her eyes still on her lap and her voice strange and stilted. “I - you - please. Take it back. Take it back to the stores, you must. I simply cannot take it.”

He stepped backwards, startled and feeling the start of anger in his chest. “Why in heavens would I do that? I bought them for you and you are going to have them.”

“I say I shall not,” she said more firmly, looking up at him now with a defiant look in her eyes. “Please return them all. I do not want them here.”

“Are they not fine enough for you?” he demanded. “Are you so redolent with jewels and silks of your own that you can turn down those that I provide for you?”

“I can manage well enough with what I have,” she said, standing up and pushing the boxes so that they toppled to the ground in a heap. “I don’t need you to dress me or to cover me in jewels!”

“You do need me to if you are ever to look like you are actually a duchess and not a poor relative acting as a companion to one of the girls,” Stephen growled, his fists clenching so tight that his fingernails were biting into his skin.

“I assure you, Your Grace, I can present myself well enough that anyone with proper breeding will understand my rank,” Elizabeth said, her tone sharp.

Stephen shook his head and stalked back to the pile of gifts, sweeping them into his arms and taking them to where Elizabeth stood. “I am not returning them.”

“I am not keeping them!” she retorted.

He put them on top of the other boxes, creating a precarious pile with colorful ribbons and wrapping papers and lace spilling everywhere. “You can do what you like, wife. I have given themto you and they are your possessions. Wear them, burn them, eat them for all I care.”

He turned on his heel so he would not see her face any longer and that tight, fierce almost hurt expression she was wearing instead of the pleased smile he had been hoping for. “I’ll be damned if I have any more to do with it.”

With that said, he stormed out, leaving gifts and wife behind him.

CHAPTER 10

“Your Grace, look at this headdress, I think it’s all feathers of some bird from the continent!” Sally exclaimed, pulling the lid off a box and peeking inside in raptures. “I know I’ve never seen a chicken with so fine a tail!”

“I’m not keeping them, Sally,” Elizabeth said sternly for what felt like the dozenth time. Sally sometimes had a tendency to hear her and say ‘of course, Your Grace’ and do the opposite of what she was being told because she thought she knew better.

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