Page 68 of Taken By the Icy Duke

Gilbert leaned close, pressing his lips to her forehead.

“If only you would confide in me whenever you feel faint,” he murmured. “I prefer not to hear or see it secondhand.”

She nodded, guiding them both toward her chamber door. “I shall, if it persists,” she whispered, sliding him a tender look. Then, stepping inside, she loosened her hold on his arm and slipped into the quiet of her room. “Thank you, Gilbert… for understanding.”

His expression softened at her gratitude, though the tight line of his jaw hinted at lingering jealousy.

“Rest well,” he said. “I shall be near, should you need anything.”

With that, he gently closed the door behind her. Diana grimaced, her heart twisting painfully with the secret she kept from him. Yet a faint comfort remained: despite the discord, she had managed to soothe Gilbert’s bristling pride, and for once, Leopold’s presence had not instigated conflict.

Gilbert stepped from the carriage, tugging at the lapel of his jacket as he surveyed Lord Merrivale’s brightly lit residence. He forced a civil expression for the footmen, then offered his arm to Diana. She accepted, her features set in a careful mask. He felt an undercurrent of nervousness run like a stream beneath his skin, and wondered if attending yet another social event would soothe or worsen the rumors.

“I shall fetch us some refreshment,” Diana said when they reached the crowded salon.

He inclined his head, noting how swiftly she withdrew from him. She wove through the guests with graceful steps, leaving him to watch her depart. His gaze slid to a far corner, where Leopold stood among a group, apparently at ease. A mild surge of irritation flickered in Gilbert’s chest. While he had welcomed Leopold home, he had quickly grown annoyed at Leopold’s constant presence, especially by how friendly he had become with Diana.

He turned to greet an acquaintance, exchanging stiff pleasantries about estate matters. The conversation quickly bored him and he excused himself, drifting toward the drinks table, only to find Josephine Halfacre blocking his path. The violet sheen of her gown caught the lamplight in a bold display.

“You appear agitated, Your Grace,” Josephine noted in a silky voice.

“I have no interest in conversation tonight, Lady Halfacre,” he said tersely, trying to sidestep her.

Josephine arched a brow. “Why so severe? One might think you found something troubling across the room.” She nodded toward Diana, who was now standing with Leopold, evidently laughing at some remark.

He forced a harsh breath. “I suggest you stop making insinuations.”

She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Is that a mere insinuation, or am I right to wonder why you glower at your lovely duchess while she shares a jest with Lord Leopold? After all, we do recall the initial scandal, do we not? Perhaps you fear old sparks are rekindling.”

His jaw clenched. “I do not glower. And I fear nothing of the sort.”

Josephine let a soft laugh escape. “That is not the picture you present, standing here with storm clouds in your eyes. Truly, I fail to see why you remain so steadfast with a wife who appears so content in your brother’s company—unless, of course, you relish these complications.”

He leaned in, his voice a warning growl. “I have no appetite for your provocations, Josephine. Remove yourself before I speak too candidly.”

She smiled, false sweetness curving her lips. “Your loyalty is commendable, though I recall days when you sought respite from all such entanglements. If the duchess’s relationship with Leopold troubles you, remember my door has never closed. I stand ready to offer you simpler company.”

“I do not stoop to old diversions,” he said, quiet fury infiltrating his tone. He felt utterly disgusted that she would bring up such topics just barely out of earshot of other guests. He looked around anxiously, hoping that no one had heard her.

She pursed her lips. “So protective, and yet you brood. I merely highlight that she laughs with Lord Leopold while you scowl from afar.” She shrugged. “But do as you wish, Your Grace.”

He shot her a final warning glance. “Refrain from speaking of Diana again,” he said, stepping around her with a clipped stride.

Gilbert crossed the salon, weaving past guests with a swiftness that threatened his veneer of calm. He spotted Diana handing aglass of wine to Leopold, her lips curved in a subtle smile. At his approach, her smile vanished.

“I brought you some wine,” she said softly, extending the second glass to him. “Shall we?—”

He took it, forcing a stiff nod. “Thank you,” he said, ignoring Leopold except for the briefest of glances.

Leopold bowed slightly. “If you will excuse me…” He slipped away, leaving Gilbert and Diana standing amid the bustling gathering.

“We might take our leave soon,” Gilbert announced. “I find I have already had quite enough of this crowd.”

She swallowed, not meeting his gaze. “If you prefer,” she said, carefully neutral. “Although we have only just arrived.”

“We can claim other engagements,” he excused.

“I am happy to return home to rest,” Diana agreed.

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