Page 12 of His Abandoned Duchess

Richard shot up in the bed, his heart hammering against his ribs sure enough to break them where he lay. It was a rush of shock and swelling guilt that plagued him down to his core, and the Duke felt the fever of want clamoring beneath his skin as he strained to catch his breath.

Then, from somewhere distant, Richard was sure he heard the call of a perturbed cat or pained waterfowl.

“What on earth?”

He tossed back the covers as he furiously rose from his bed. He’d already been awoken because of the torturous efforts of a devil who sought to infect his thoughts, and now, when he wished only to return to his rest, there was a grating noise filling the halls outside his door.

As his wits returned to him and he regretfully left the warmth of his bed, Richard parsed out that it wasn’t, in fact, some sullen animal screeching its demise for all to hear, but someone singing—horribly so.

Confusion wormed through him as he stepped out into the hall. Still, as he followed the source of the sound down past the other rooms to the opposite end of the house, his jaw reflexively clenched.

Amelia.

What his wife was up to now was a mystery, but Richard was confident that it had something to do with him and an effort to keep him from a night’s rest.

No. I will not be made to play these childish games.

Richard turned around, his hand moving to the knob of his door so that he might ignore the thunderous, discordant wailing that blackened the air with its enormous lack of tune. He nearly threw the door open and then stepped inside, closing things back up again.

But it was no use. That terrible singing bled through the walls with no end in sight. If Amelia was so determined to keep him from sleep, Richard was of a mind to make it just as much an impediment for his wife as it was for him.

“Damn that woman.”

Richard left his room once more, following the long hallway down to Amelia’s chambers. The dreadful noise grew louder and louder with each step, making his nerves surge with fury and vitriol in compounding order.

Arriving at her door, Richard knocked with little ceremony and waited for her to answer. It only took a moment, and when the panel opened to reveal her, Richard glared, his jaw muscles working as he took in Amelia’s apparent surprise.

“What on God’s green earth are you doing? It’s the middle of the night.”

She bowed her head, putting a hand to her chest as she clutched the robe she wore with the other. “I’m most sorry, Richard. Did I wake you?”

The Duke only glared, not dignifying the asinine question with a response.

“Truly, I am most sorry. Singing works to soothe Amelia when I am plagued by a terrible insomnia. I had no intention of drawing you from your room when you were undoubtedly kept up far into the evening looking over my ledgers.”

In his many days with his father and family and the following years spent receiving his education at university, Richard had never once heard of a case of insomnia so relieved by singing terribly as loud as one could. This was most assuredly a ploy by his wife to irritate him, and while it was working to a degree, he would not let this stand in the way of his goals.

“Insomnia.” He stared at her blankly. “Indeed, Amelia, it is difficult to think that there isn’t anyone in the estate who is free of that malady now that you’ve roused the entirety of the western hemisphere with your squawking.”

She gaped, pulling back from him with a look of horror that almost passed as genuine but not entirely. “Richard, I?—”

“Enough, Amelia. I am set to return to my room to sleep. I ardently suggest that you attempt to do the same.”

Turning away without regard to his wife’s incorrigible performance, Richard started back for his bedroom when Amelia whispered into the hall.

“I shall try to be quieter.” She began to close the door, her singing resuming at length and with no discernable change in volume or tone.

Richard came to an abrupt stop, spinning on his heel and marching back to his wife’s bedroom. The boom of his steps stole her attention even over her tuneless crooning, and he was sure that even the fires in the hearth could not match that coursing through his veins.

Shoving past the door, the Duke pushed inside her room and closed the distance to his wife till he could clamp his hand down over her mouth. Her eyes flared wide as she looked up at him, squirming within his hold as he worked to keep her still.

“That wasn’t at all quieter, wife, and I believe you are well aware of that fact. You will desist with this ungracious behavior, or I shall be forced to return with yet another solution to keep you from waking the entire manor.”

She shoved Richard off, and he was quick to pull back, not waiting for his wife to go on with additional lies about insomnia or the inability to determine her volume. This was a most ridiculous evening already, and if Richard did not get his restforthwith, he would be all the more sour of a mood come first light.

Silence filled the halls as he walked back down to his bedroom, and Richard allowed himself to feel the inklings of hope for, at last, a restful night. It was not to be, however, because no sooner had his feet crossed the threshold when Richard heard the unmistakable singsong lark of Amelia’s laughter, lovely in a manner that gave away the false nature of her discordant warbling. And for as quiet as it was, it had still been enough to reach him these feet away.

She will pay for her disobedience.

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