Page 14 of A Bride for the Icy Duke
“You would still carry it, even after our marriage ends. But we will not have anything to do with one another, of course.”
“I am very fortunate, I’m sure,” she muttered, rising so abruptly, he looked a little startled by the movement. “Well, I must breakfast and prepare for the soiree. I wouldn’t want my friends to feel as though I am neglecting them now that my husband has returned home.” She didn’t intend the slight inflexion onmy friends, but she knew the duke picked up on it. His nostrils flared slightly, but before he could say anything, he winced, putting a hand to his head.
“Do you have any—” He shook his head. “No matter.”
“What is wrong?”
“I have a burgeoning headache.” He also rose, towering over her. “You must do everything necessary to prepare for the soiree, of course. We can leave tomorrow morning instead.”
That same resentment grew in her chest, clawing at her heart and lungs, and she turned away lest he see her thoughts on her face. “Goodbye, Your Grace.” With half a curtsy, she turned and fled the room, leaving the duke standing alone in her bedchamber.
CHAPTER FIVE
The soiree began without a hitch, their guests assembling in the drawing room and the vicar’s daughter entertaining them on the pianoforte as the group talked and laughed. Lydia looked at the assembled crowd, deliberately looking past the duke. All the friends she had made over the past year,gone.
“Why so morose?” Eliza asked, slipping her arm through Lydia’s. “The duke isexceedinglyhandsome.”
“Eliza,” Marie chided from Lydia’s other side. “It is not proper to say such things.”
“Oh, fud. What is the necessity of propriety? Besides, it is not the duke I’m interested in. I have no desire to tangle with married men.”
“No,” Lydia countered, “you prefer untitled, very single men. Such as Mr. Godwin.”
“I have told you, he ceased courting me some time ago.” Eliza touched her curls, as though she knew Mr. Godwin was watching her. “We most definitely do not get along now.”
“Their version of flirtation,” Marie added, laughing.
“How could it be love? We haven’t so much as kissed.” Eliza bit her lip, looking wicked. “Yet.”
“You are outrageous,” Lydia giggled. “But if you are going to kiss, please choose a different night. With the duke glowering over there, I don’t want anything to happen tonight that he would disapprove.” She heaved a sigh. “Although I fancy that is impossible.”
“Nonsense,” Marie said robustly. “He must like you. The problem is, he hasn’t gotten to know you yet.”
Lydia cast another covert glance across the drawing room, to where he was engaged in serious conversation with Mr. Godwin. Although at least Mr. Godwin seemed to be laughing and teasing him. As Lydia watched, the duke tossed a glass of wine back with impatient motions, her bandage still around his hands. They still appeared to shake.
At first, she had thought it was shock, but now it seemed more persistent, and she frowned, trying to work out what was affecting him enough to make him tremble.
“The key issue here is that I have no wish to like him,” she murmured, almost absently, watching the way he frowned. His frowns seemed rather easier to come by than any other expression. “I think nothing good of him.”
“Lower your voice, at least,” Marie whispered, taking Lydia’s arm and leading her away. “He is still respected in these parts. And you are still his wife.”
“For now,” Lydia amended.
Eliza followed them both. “Then you will merely have to convince him to keep you.”
“As though it would be that easy.” Lydia scoffed. “He wants nothing to do with me.”
“When I first married Marcus,” Marie began with a soft smile that seemed to illuminate her face, “he didn’t like me so very much, either. He was my parents’ choice for me, and I confess, I thought he was dull and dreary and everything a husband ought not to be. But once we spent some time together, we came to understand one another better, and now we could not be happier.”
Her cheeks flushed, and her eyes sparkled as she thought about her husband, even though they had arrived in the same carriage, and he was talking to other gentlemen on the other side of the room. “He is thinking of taking me to Italy.”
Lydia smiled, her heart solemnly happy for her friend even as she grieved her own circumstance. The difference between the two men was that Marcus had been prepared to know his wife. He had worked on the marriage, and they had fallen wholly in love.
The duke had abandoned her.
For a year straight, not so much as writing to see how she was faring. If he kept in contact with the servants to check on her, she knew nothing about it. His behavior had made it perfectly clear that he wantednothingat all to do with her. Not as a wife, not as a lady, not as a friend.
“You must write to me,” Lydia smiled softly, squeezing Marie’s arm, determined not to let her bitterness mar this final night together with her friend.
