Page 79 of A Bride for the Icy Duke
A year before they left for London. Alexander's chest tightened inexplicably. He couldn't tear his eyes from the portrait—from those eyes that seemed to look straight through him, carrying a weight no child should bear…
“Your Grace?”
Alexander blinked, the moment breaking. He turned from the portrait, though his mind remained unsettled. “Forgive me. Thank you,” he said to Lord Harrogate, his voice not quitesteady. “I’ll let her know. I should find the duchess now. If she would have me, I would like to dance with her.”
The lord furrowed his brows. “You… think there is a doubt she would have you?”
“I think she is not much in the mood for dancing.” Alexander ran a hand through his hair as they reached the stairs. “Tell me something, Harrogate. What did you do to woo your wife?”
“Towooher?”
“I understand it was not a love match in the beginning.”
“Ah, no.” Lord Harrogate hesitated. “In truth, it might never have been a love match if it were not for Lady Harrogate herself. She decided she wanted more from me, and as she did, I came to realize how lucky I had been to marry her—and how much of a fool I had almost been.” He gave a gentle smile that Alexander had never seen on his face before. Onanyman’s face, in fact. “I would do anything to ensure her happiness.”
“But… there was nothingin specific?” Alexander pressed.
“Is every lady the same? What does she prize above everything else? For my Marie, it was poetry. Fortunately, for my lack of ability in that area, she more than accepted my seeking out poetry for her, and copying it down.” Lord Harrogate clapped Alexander on the shoulder. “If she cares for you, old man, shewon’t require you to become someone you are not. Just try for her sake. Learn the things she likes and offer them to her.”
What did Lydia like?
She loved the library and her friends. He had rarely seen her as happy as around that small kitchen table, eating pies with his tenants. She was no great lady; she simply sought acceptance and love from the world around her.
That was all she needed from him.
“I should return to the ballroom,” he murmured at last.
“Good luck with whatever you are planning, Your Grace,” Lord Harrogate said, but Alexander was already striding away, back down the large, open stairway.
They would come together to decide the future of their home. He would build her a library of her very own. He would move into her bedchamber entirely—or perhaps move her into his. No more pretending he didn’t need her the way he did.
When he entered the ballroom, he looked around for her. At first, at the ladies seated around the edge, then at the dancing couples.
Lydia was nowhere to be seen.
Perplexed, he skirted the room until he finally found Miss Parsons on Godwin’s arm, leaning into him and looking up at him adoringly.
Odd, seeing that expression on her face. Still.
“Miss Parsons,” he greeted, bowing. “I am sorry to interrupt, but have you seen the duchess?”
The smile slid off Miss Parson’s face almost immediately. “Excuse me,” she murmured to her party, then stepped away to speak with him in private. Her arms folded stubbornly across her chest, and he had the impression she was about to interrogate him. “Why are you looking for her?”
Alexander arched a brow. Miss Parsons might think she could intimidate most people in the room—and perhaps she was right—but it would not work on him. “Is that any of your business?”
“After hearing the things she has had to say about you, I would say it is.” She tipped her chin up. “She doesn’t want to see you, Your Grace.”
Alexander felt taken aback. “What do you mean she doesn’t want to see me?”
“She knows you intend to leave tomorrow, and I think she would rather wait until you’ve left.” Miss Parsons gritted her teeth, looking very much as though she would like to strike him. But Alexander was distracted by the other thing she said.
“SheknowsI intend toleave?”
“Were you intending to keep it a secret?” Her lip lifted. “Well, I am sorry to say you failed.”
Alexander inhaled, keeping his temper with every force of will he possessed. She thought he was leaving? Wasthatwhy she had been so cold to him? And if so, why did she not say so?
“What made her think so?”
