Page 67 of Unraveled By the Duke
He downed his brandy to chase away the thoughts. What mattered was money. Money for his sister. His family. A family that Celia was now part of.
I could change that once the dowry is paid and Hyacinth makes her debut. Once the scandals have been dealt with, I will be free. Free to quietly put my wife aside. Just as I have always planned.
Why does that thought now make me sad?
CHAPTER 21
Celia had a sense of foreboding as she returned to Finsbury House. Alexander had been quiet during the ride back from Banfield.
The visit to her parents’ house had used up a few hours of the day, and she was desperately trying to think of how she could use up more. But it was difficult.
If Alexander insisted that they go directly to his solicitor’s office, then any attempt to delay would surely be obvious.
What will his reaction be, then? Will it simply drive a wedge between us, or precipitate the end of all of this?
As she entered the house, she spotted the silver tray by the door bearing letters that had arrived since they set out for Banfield that morning.
As expected, the letter on top of the pile was addressed to Alexander. The flowing, elegant script made Celia think of a woman’s hand. Out of curiosity, she picked up the letter and immediately was able to confirm the gender of its author, for a hint of perfume clung to the paper.
She replaced the letter and walked away as she heard Alexander coming through the door behind her.
Her heart was racing. Perhaps the letter was from Lavinia. Who else would write to Alexander and spray the correspondence with a dose of perfume? Why would a woman do that if not to entice the man to whom she was writing, to remind him of her perfume, which meant to remind him of a previous intimacy?
“I think I will change. This dress is not suitable for the warmth that the afternoon seems to have brought,” she muttered, heading for the stairs.
“But eminently suitable for a trip to a solicitor’s office to examine a statement of accounts.”
As she stopped, one foot on the stairs and one hand on the banister, she heard the sound of paper sliding against paper. Alexander was flipping through the letters that had been left for his perusal. He grunted as though in surprise, and she heard an envelope being opened.
I do not know. I do not wish to know. I am a wife in name only. What claim do I have on him?
She resumed her ascent. Perhaps he had ignoredthatletter and opened another. Perhapsthatletter would end up, unread, into the fire.
And Lavinia Dunnings will enter a convent!
“Very well. If you think so,” Celia relented.
“Where are you going? We should be on our way while we are dressed for the outdoors,” Alexander said.
Was it her imagination, or did he sound distracted?
Celia risked a look over her shoulder. He was reading intently, and it was the perfumed letter that he held. The others remained on the silver tray. He stood in the middle of the hall, engrossed and frowning as he read.
She felt a chasm open within her. This missive was of some import. A woman who wafted her perfume under his nose to entice and attract him.
She felt sick to her stomach.
“I wish to refresh myself,” she said faintly.
Alexander looked up suddenly. She felt his eyes on her from across the hall, like a physical touch. She could not move under that gaze. She shivered, feeling as though she should writheunder the touch of those eyes. Feeling as though she were being undressed.
“Are you well?” he asked. “You sound… distracted.”
“Quite well,” Celia replied.
Now was the time to ask about the letter, but she was at a loss for words. She opened her mouth to ask, but could not speak. To ask might end the charade and might make Alexander admit that there was another woman he truly wished to marry and that he was merely biding his time until then.
I should not care. I did not seek a husband and did not expect to find love with him. Merely an escape from scandal. Why should I care if he loves another woman?
