Page 33 of Married to a Wicked Duke
She nodded. “I have.”
“Come back to Brownwood Manor with me. Please.”
Veronica hesitated. She glanced at her sister, then back to him.
“If you wish to stay here with me, Veronica, I can have you taken back to Brownwood Manor later,” the Duchess of Larsen said pointedly.
Frederick took a step towards his wife. “Please come home,” he said, his voice low. He needed to apologize, yes. But there was more he wished to speak with his wife about. Ideas that were forming, with increasing speed and clarity. Things he needed to speak about before he changed his mind. “I’ve something I would like to discuss with you. It is very important.”
Veronica drew in a breath. “All right,” she agreed.
“Are you certain?” asked her sister.
Veronica nodded. She made her way towards her and they exchanged murmured words that Frederick could not understand. Then the sisters held each other for a long second. “You can always come to me if you need anything,” he heard Veronica’s sister say. She looked over at Frederick and nodded curtly. “Your Grace.” Then she disappeared out of the room.
Frederick looked back at Veronica and gave her a half-smile. “Your sister is certainly not my biggest fan.”
Veronica looked out the open door to where the Duchess had disappeared. “She can be a little overprotective, that’s all.”
Frederick nodded. He knew well he deserved whatever coldness the Duchess of Larsen deigned to give him, after the way he had treated her sister yesterday. Hesitantly, he offered her his arm. “Shall we go? There is much I wish to speak to you about.”
Veronica took one last look at the mural, then nodded, pressing light fingers against his arm and walking with him out of the school.
* * *
“Well?” said Veronica, once the carriage was rattling back toward Brownwood Manor. “What is it you wished to speak about?” She kept her voice expressionless, in an attempt to keep her emotions at bay. The last thing she had expected was for her husband to appear at the orphans’ school. He had mentioned in passing the new charity project he was funding, but she had not for a moment considered it might be the same school her brother-in-law was involved in.
The knowledge was unsettling. The painting of the mural was supposed to be her escape. A part of her life that did not involve her callous husband. But she couldn’t deny there was something softer in his eyes today. Something that reminded her of the kind man she had spoken with in the garden in Cambridge; not the rude and heartless bastard he had been last night.
The Duke shuffled on the bench seat and folded his hands in his lap. “First of all,” he said stiltedly, “I wish to apologize for the way I spoke to you last night.” He looked at her squarely. “You did not deserve to be treated in such a way. Rest assured that in future, I will do better.”
Veronica did not speak for a moment. In his apology, there was no mention of his words having been a mistake. Perhaps in future, he would treat her with more kindness, but that did not change the fact that she would never know the love of a husband or child. Nonetheless, she knew it was not her place to argue or to question any of this. If a marriage in name only was what the Duke wanted, that was what they would have.
She nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate the apology.”
He cleared his throat. “Secondly, I have something of a proposition for you.”
She raised her eyebrows. “A proposition?”
“Yes. In addition to the school for orphans, I also plan to open a gallery. It was my mother’s greatest dream, and I plan to open it to honor her memory. The gallery would showcase some of her work, but also pieces by up-and-coming artists, particularly those who would otherwise struggle to make a name for themselves.”
Veronica felt a hint of a smile on her lips. That sudden shine in her husband’s eyes, she had seen that the day they had been locked in the library at his country house. Had seen it when he had spoken so passionately about his art… right before he had pulled her into his arms and kissed her like it would save him from drowning. She shook her head to try and clear her thoughts. Now was not the time to focus on such memories.
“The gallery sounds wonderful,” she said.
“I hope it will be. This morning I had the good fortune of finding the perfect venue. A former townhouse in Covent Garden.”
Veronica found herself shuffling to the edge of the bench seat, leaning forward with interest. “A townhouse. How interesting.”
“Yes. I hoped the unique venue would provide additional interest.”
She nodded. “And perhaps such a homely environment will also encourage discussion among visitors. As if they were speaking about art in a salon in their homes, or over cups of tea in their parlor. Debating which pieces they liked the most, and what they believed the meaning behind each work to be.” She could feel a shine in her eyes. “You could even furnish one room with armchairs, for that very purpose. A ‘discussion room’, as it were.”
A smile flickered on the Duke’s lips. “Indeed. That’s a fine idea.”
“When do you plan to open?” Veronica asked.
“I should like to open in the autumn,” he said. “Four months ought to give me the time I need.” He paused. “Or rather, the timeweneed?”
