Page 12 of Taken By the Icy Duke

Diana’s throat constricted, wondering if she had misunderstood. She struggled for words, her cheeks warming at his rejection. If he would not come to her, surely it fell to her to ensure they fulfilled their vows in truth, not just in name. “I thought…well, I assumed…” She forced herself to say it as a deep blush prickled up her neck. “That we would consummate our marriage.”

He turned aside, looking past her as though the paneling were suddenly the most interesting feature of the room. “That will not be necessary.”

The bluntness of his declaration stung like a slap. Not necessary? How could he speak so coldly, as if their union were a ledger entry to be signed and then just as quickly forgotten?

“We are husband and wife,” she managed, her voice brittle as her heart thundered between her breasts. Had she misread the warmth in his eyes a moment earlier? Had it been nothing more than her imagination?

Gilbert pressed his lips into a thin line. “I have no intention of siring heirs, Your Grace.”

She blinked, confusion scattering her thoughts like leaves in the wind. “No heirs?” she repeated in a hushed voice. Every nobleman wanted heirs. It was a sacred duty, a cornerstone of their union. “But then…who will inherit?”

A muscle in his jaw jumped. “My brother, Lord Leopold, will succeed me.”

He might as well have struck her across the face. This was not a misunderstanding that a few kind words might smooth over. He was making it clear: she would remain in his house, carry his title, and do nothing more. The look he had given her earlier—that glimmer of something she dared to call desire—had vanished.

Bitter shame crawled up her throat and her face burned with it. She had come to him risking embarrassment, laying aside propriety to honor their vows, and he had dismissed her without a second thought.

Tightening her wrapper around herself, she drew back. “I see,” Diana managed to say tightly. She dared not ask more; he had already scraped her pride raw. With a curt nod she retreated, stepping back into the corridor without looking at him again.

The door closed softly, sealing her out. In the hallway’s hush, her heart pounded even more loudly than before. She had never felt more foolish than in that moment.

Silly, hopeful, stupid girl. How could I have thought, even for an instant, that he might want to claim his rights as my husband, or even meet me halfway? I am a mere burden and less than nothing to him.

Diana wondered what had given rise to the hope that he would visit her.

Why do I want him to claim his rights as my husband? Why do I desire to perform my duties as his wife?

Wrapping her arms around herself, she hurried to her room, silent tears welling in her eyes. His rejection had left her hollow, but she refused to let herself cry. She would not crumble. Still, the shame of it all—her uncertainty, her awkward attempt, and his cool dismissal—weighed on her, pressing like an invisible hand against her chest.

She reached her door, slipped inside, and leaned against the panel. This was their marriage, then. He needed no heirs, no closer companionship, and no heat of shared desire. Just a hollow contract.

Determined not to give in to tears, Diana exhaled, willed her breathing to slow, and resolved that if this was how he wanted it, she would not offer again. She would find her worth on her own terms, even as the sting of his rejection lingered deep beneath her ribs.

Chapter Six

Gilbert glanced toward the study door when he heard the gentle knock, his heart already tightening with dread. In the days since their wedding, Diana had found excuses to visit him, whether he had locked himself away in his study or found refuge in other parts of the manor.

He had fully intended for their marriage to be in name only. Diana was indeed pretty, but he had not thought she would tempt him even while living under the same roof. However, she had proved him wrong on their wedding night, entering his room in a silk gown that highlighted the curves of her figure. He had been more than tempted to bed her, and could not erase the image, or his desire, from his mind.

He refused to be tempted by her. However, this time he could not pretend he was busy with correspondence or research. He had dismissed the footman only moments earlier and silence now filled the room. Reluctantly, he called for Diana to enter.

“Your Grace,” she began, in a voice softer than he had expected. “I wondered if you had a moment.”

He waved his hand toward a seat. She drifted in, the subtle scent of rosewater following her, and paused near his desk. Instead of launching into whatever practical concern she claimed to have, Diana turned to face him directly.

“You were not at luncheon, and I thought we had agreed to discuss the household inventory today,” she told him, meeting his eyes.

Gilbert tugged at his cuffs. “I had unexpected business with my steward,” he said, deliberately vague. “It required my attention.”

Her lips parted, and her brow arched slightly. “So unduly pressing that you could not spare a single word? I looked for you in the garden and was told you had left by the south door just as I arrived.”

“I had no intention of being rude,” he managed, keeping his voice cool. This was what he had hoped to avoid: questions that cornered him. “As I said, the matter was sudden.”

“I see.” She shifted her stance, the rustle of her skirts quiet in the spacious study. “Well, since we are both here now, perhaps we can review the estate’s expenses. Mrs. Hardwick mentioned some discrepancies in the linen orders.”

She was giving him a graceful exit, offering him a practical topic rather than forcing him to explain himself further. He should have been grateful. Instead, his attention snagged on the curve of her collarbone where it met the delicate line of her throat. He stopped himself only when he realized how intently he was staring.

“I am certain you can resolve Mrs. Hardwick’s concerns without my intervention,” he glanced at the clock on the mantel. “If you will excuse me, I must…ensure the stable master has my latest instructions.”

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