Page 40 of Three Nights with the Beastly Duke

“Arthur, I’m not her,” Lavinia urged, gripping his arm. She looked at him pleadingly, then sighed. “If you would just get to know me—if you would just let me get to know you—you would see that.”

Arthur’s gaze finally locked on hers, and when she saw the pain and distrust there, she nearly flinched.

“And what if I do?” Arthur asked, studying her closely. “You just want me to accept the pain and betrayal I feel when you leave?”

“I will not leave,” she promised, desperate for him to believe her. “I don’t want to leave, Arthur.”

Arthur studied her face intently for a moment as if trying to decipher the truth. He then nodded his head and let out a sigh. “Even so,” he murmured.

“So what?” Lavinia asked, urging him to explain.

“There’s something wrong with that man,” Arthur went on, stepping back from her. “Everyone worries that I am the beast because of the way I look. But he is the one who carries darkness. I can sense it.”

Lavinia looked at Arthur, taking in his tense stance and his untrusting gaze. Then, she nodded calmly and uncrossed her arms. “I believe you,” she said simply.

Arthur looked back at her distrustfully, his eyes moving up and down her figure. “You what?” he asked.

“You say there is no trust between us,” Lavinia explained, walking toward him. “I want to change that. Trust does not come instantly or easily. So, I must start with something small. If you say Timothy is up to no good, then I believe you. Because I amtrustingthat you are telling me the truth.”

Arthur’s eyebrows went up in surprise as Lavinia continued, “We can never get out of this cycle unless one of us breaks it. I understand why it can’t be you. So, it shall be me.”

Though there was more Lavinia wanted to say, she forced herself to stop talking. She had wanted her chance to speak to Arthur, and he’d given it to her. But now, it was up to him to decide what to do next.

Lavinia waited. She was willing to wait all night. But, after several minutes slowly ticked by, Arthur abruptly walked to the door and left.

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

“You have an awfully sour expression about you this morning, Arthur,” Marianne noted, tapping open her soft-boiled egg with her small, silver spoon. She lifted her eyes away from her breakfast, her eyes sympathetic, but her mouth forming a smirk. “Trouble with your new bride?”

Arthur drew his eyes up from his plate of untouched food, annoyance coursing through him at a rapid speed. “It’s best to keep such suspicions to yourself, Mother,” he replied, feeling his body tense. “Lest a servant hears and spreads another ridiculous piece of gossip. Is that not what we’re trying to avoid?”

Marianne’s eyes hardened as she looked at her son, and then she threw a suspicious glance around the room at the several servants standing by and gave a furtive nod.

“Let us discuss business, then,” she replied diplomatically. “I have heard you’ve been traveling, checking up on our family’s holdings. Is all well?”

Grateful for the subject change, Arthur nodded and began informing her of his most recent work. It was far better than thinking and discussing his new bride, who was befuddling him more by the day. He was still waiting for her to drop her mask of goodness. To show him the real woman behind her beautiful, kind exterior that surely must be terrified of him.

He had slept awfully last night, turning constantly and unable to get comfortable. His discussion with Lavinia last night had been tumultuous, to say the least, and had left him at war with himself. He had been sure that she was going to defend her friendship with Lord Stonehames tooth and nail. That she was going to call him mad or jealous. Instead, she had agreed with him and spoken of building trust.

But what good was building trust with someone who was going to eventually run from you?

“Ah, at last, the master of the manor has deigned to join us for breakfast.”

Arthur rolled his eyes as he heard his sister’s voice, but his heart skipped a beat when he saw Lavinia walk in with Susan. She wore her black hair long today, the curls cascading down her back. A small, jeweled hairpiece held some of it back from her face, highlighting the graceful curvature of her neck. She’d chosen a pale lavender gown with black lace trim for the day, and it did wonders for her figure.

Immediately, Arthur felt his lust for her rise again, flooding his very bloodstream and creating a stir in his groin. Her eyes, so dark and mystifying, were focused solely on him as Susan led her by the hand to the table.

“There are some things more important than work,” Arthur murmured, unable to keep his gaze off Lavinia as she sat down at the table. Finally, he was able to make himself look away, and he focused on his little sister. “Like the discussion of your new beau, for example,” he continued, his voice shifting to an almost paternal inflection.

“Oh, enough, Brother.” Susan sighed, making a shooing motion with her hand toward him. “It’s not as if we eloped. He is a perfectly respectable young gentleman who has fought valiantly for our country. Surely you can appreciate that.”

“Appreciation is one thing,” Arthur retorted, “but knowing is another. You sprang his visit on us without preparation and gave us little opportunity to get to know him.”

“That’s what tonight is for,” Susan replied with a shrug, seemingly unfazed by his displeasure.

“Tonight?” Arthur asked, surprised.

Susan laughed and shook her head at him as if he were a young boy. “The Andersons’ ball?” she prompted. “Surely you haven’t forgotten.”

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