Page 18 of A Bride for the Icy Duke
But explaining that would mean engaging with him, and it was too early in the day for that. Her stomach churned as she stepped into the room and selected a single slice of pound cake,putting it on a plate and not so much as using a spoon to eat it with.
“I would rather not, Your Grace,” she replied, dipping into a curtsy she hoped was as mocking as she felt, and departing the room with her head held high.
Inside, her heart shuddered against her ribcage. That had been the most cutting she had ever been to anyone, including servants. The person she had been, afraid of confrontation, shivered within her chest.
But she refused to regret it. If he wondered why his wife was cold to him, then perhaps he could work it out himself.
As she passed into the drawing room, there was a small commotion in the hall, and Eliza brushed into the room, snow glistening on her raven curls.
“Lydia!” she burst, as though there were nothing unusual about Lydia wandering about the house with a slice of half-eaten pound cake on a china plate. “The weather truly is horrific!”
For the first time, Lydia paid attention to the snow plastered against the windowpanes. She glanced at Eliza’s flushed face. “If the conditions are so bad, why are you here?”
“To implore you not to go. And to give you this.” With a flourish, Eliza produced a book from her cloak. “You seem… unwilling to give the duke a chance, and this is your marriage.” She gaveLydia a sharp glance. “I confess I am no expert in the realm of marriage, but if you do not wish to leave here, and if you do notwantan annulment, then the only other option is for you to make the most of it.” She shoved the book into Lydia’s hands. “Read this. Consider. And whatever you do, donotlet him cart you off to London inthis.”
As if to confirm Eliza’s point, the wind moaned around the house, splattering ice crystals against the glass.
“I should return home before I am snowed in here.” Eliza gave Lydia a mischievous look. “And I am certain you will want some time alone with yourhusband.”
“Eliza.” Lydia followed her friend to the door, pound cake in one hand and the book in the other. “You know I have no desire for that. To know him better. I hate him.”
“Hate and love are so closely attached, dearest, one may hardly know the difference between them.” For a second, Eliza looked contemplative. “I believe I am coming to discover that myself.”
“But—”
“Read the book and reflect. This is your opportunity for action—don’t waste it!” With a wiggle of her fingers, Eliza stepped out of the front door and was immediately blasted with snow. She had a carriage waiting for her, a maid peering anxiously outside.
Already, the snow was piling up. The garden, of which Lydia had become inordinately fond, was now blanketed in white. The carriage lurched into motion, cutting a path through the immaculate covering on the road, the wheel tracks filling again almost immediately.
Thank heavens Eliza only lived a mile or two away, or Lydia would have seriously worried for her.
Philips appeared by Lydia’s shoulder, his face impassive and his hands tucked behind his back. “The conditions are not favorable, ma’am,” he intoned.
“No indeed…”
“It is my opinion that it would not be sensible for you to begin a journey at this present time.”
“I agree,” Lydia nodded once, feeling a little as though she were conspiring against the duke, and delighted that his butler, of all people, was her co-conspirator. “And perhaps not even tomorrow.”
“Perhaps.”
“After all, I would hate to risk the horses. Or to be stranded.”
“That would be distressing to us all, ma’am.”
Lydia closed the front door with a satisfying bang, almost a skip to her step as she made her way to the library. “Can you have breakfast delivered to me there, Philips?” she asked. “I only need a little toast and tea.”
Philips inclined his head. “Of course, Your Grace.”
Handing him her plate, she turned her attention to the book. What could Eliza have possibly given her that would make a difference to her thinking? Yes, she had no desire to leave here, but she also had no desire for the duke to share this space with her. If possible, she wished to return to the way things had been for the past year.
But, she realized with a jolt, that was terribly unlikely.
The duke would not just leave her to run his estate in his absence. This year of absence had likely been a deliberate ploy to keep out of her way, but he would not want to abandon this estate for the rest of time.
If she wished to remain, she would have to be a wife. Married to the man she was currently married to. And if she allowed her resentment to get in the way of that, what was she resigning herself to?
With a sigh, she opened the book, skipping through the pages. It was a tome on marriage advice, giving both wives and husbands recommendations about living a comfortable and happy life together, one of unity and respect.
