Page 22 of Her Bear of a Duke

She quickly made her way to them, and tried with everything in her to keep her composure, though she knew that it was faltering.

"I knew that this would happen," Cecilia sighed. "Come now, you did so well."

"He hates me," she whimpered. "The Duke hates me."

"He does not," Emma assured her. "He is as nervous as you are, believe me. Levi was just the same. You mustn't let this overwhelm you. It is a long and difficult day, but it shall pass and the two of you shall grow to like one another, and–"

"I will not be seeing any of you," she interrupted. "Not for a while, at least. He is the recluse, the Duke that locks himself away that you were talking about. He refuses to attend events, and it is not as though I can go to them alone. I will be spending my days tending to my household and very little else, especially as I learn what to do. I will not be able to see you for a long time."

"Oh, Dot," Beatrice said gently, "that is not true. We can visit you whenever you please."

"He will not allow it," she whispered. "You did not see the look in his eye when he told me he dislikes most people. I do not know what I am going to do."

"Well, stay with us for a while, and we can talk about it."

"I cannot. I must leave with him. Now."

She turned to see him waiting for her expectantly.

"I have to go," she continued, straightening herself and wearing that same rehearsed smile. "I will write to you."

She sighed as she returned to her husband, wishing that she could do more.

CHAPTER 8

"Ido not like to be kept waiting," the Duke said gruffly as they boarded the carriage.

"I understand."

They traveled mostly in silence on the way to her new home. Dorothy tried to make sense of why he had become so different from the man that she had met. There was very little understanding in his voice, and he seemed rather eager to return. Dorothy knew that something happened on a wedding night, but she had not been told precisely what that was, and so she wondered if that was why he wanted to be home so much.

And yet, she did not dare ask him.

Fortunately, the journey was not too long. They arrived quickly at an enormous mansion, towering and intimidating with ivy crawling up the walls in tendrils. She knew that the ivy would slowly be destroying the bricks, but what confused her was thather husband must also have known, given that they shared in the passion for botany. For reasons unknown to her, he seemed quite content for the damage to be done.

She went to step inside, but he took her arm gently and pulled her back.

"Before we enter, I must tell you that I have expectations of my wife."

"I thought we had already discussed this?"

"Yes, but there is more. It is not much, only what is typically expected, but I need you to follow them. Tend to your duties, do not disturb me without reason, and whatever you do, do not overstep."

Eleanor blinked. She knew that she would have duties, and she did not need a reminder about them, and she did not plan to overstep. What struck her, however, was the fact that she could not disturb him. She did not plan to be a nuisance of any sort, but there would be times when she wished to speak to her husband and the knowledge that she would not be allowed to felt very strange indeed.

"Very well," she nodded reluctantly. "I can do that."

He exhaled, satisfied, and at last they began walking again.

"And there is something I must tell you," he continued carefully, "but it must wait for now. I would rather you become accustomed to your new home beforehand. In the meantime, you must not go into the west wing."

"Why not?"

"Because I forbid it," he snapped, and Dorothy fell silent.

She looked down, afraid of the anger she had just heard in his voice. He was a frightening man when he wished to be, and she did not understand why he so badly wished to intimidate her all of a sudden.

Upon their entry, Dorothy was greeted by three servants. The older woman, with a hooked nose and gray hair, was her housekeeper Mrs. Herrington. The old man was Johnson, the butler, and the younger lady with long chestnut hair tied in a low bun was Francine. The quick introductions made, her husband left quickly, and Dorothy was in the hands of her servants.

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