Page 12 of A Bride for the Icy Duke
“The very same.”
“Tonight?”
“Did she not mention? I can only presume she arranged it to celebrate your returning home.”
This time, alongside the irritation, he felt a burst of disbelief. That little mouse, organizing a soiree in his honor? Surely not.
“I have yet to speak with her since my return,” he said shortly.
“My advice would be to do so, then. But half the village is invited—there is no chance that you can whisk her away tonight. At the very least, you will have to leave it until tomorrow morning.”
“I see.”
Samuel relaxed again, leaning back in his chair. “This may be good for you. Perhaps you’ll even learn how to enjoy yourself.”
“I know how to enjoy myself, Godwin.”
“Oh, naturally, all while scowling at assembled company. I’ve been around you when you are supposedly having fun, and let me tell you, there is no enjoyment to be had in watching you, unless it is with the purpose of mockery.”
Alexander scowled. “You have an impudent tongue.”
“And you are grave beyond your years.” Samuel grinned at Alexander’s frown. “I know, I know. Life has beenterriblyhard. But you have a wife now, and if I do say so myself, she is a beauty.”
Alexander tried to think back to his last memories of her. To his chagrin, he could not bring her face to mind. At the time of their marriage, he had been so riddled with guilt, so determined to do right by her without giving her the hope that he would provide her alifewith him.
All he could remember was that once she had recovered from the worst of her grief, she had been shy and uncertain.
“I may have a wife now,” he said, rising, “but I won’t have for long. If all you came to do was plague me, I might as well do something productive with my time.”
“You may say it, you know,” Samuel smirked.
“Say what?”
“That you are glad to see me.”
Alexander nearly smiled for the first time since arriving in York. “Fine. I am glad to see you.”
His old friend nodded decisively. “I knew it! Now go and see your pretty wife, and see if the sight convinces you to change your mind about this ridiculous plan.”
“It won’t,” Alexander said with a sigh. He had seen plenty of pretty girls since—but he didn’t want to think about that. “Nothing will change my mind, Godwin. The sooner everyone here accepts that, the better.”
Lydia sat on her bed, threading her fingers together, listening to the tick of the clock and knowing that with each passing second, it was more unacceptable that she had not gone downstairs to greet her husband.
Herhusband.
How had she forgotten his coming? No wonder the servants had been so odd around her as of late. Especially careful about her feelings, surprised and pitying that she had chosen this evening for a soiree. The most terrible coincidence…
She dropped her head into her hands.
And now he was here, waiting downstairs, and she wished him back in London. Anywhere but waiting in the breakfast roomfor her. After he left her so abruptly, he should have just stayed away!
Instead, he gave her a home, somewhere to belong, and had come to cruelly rip it away from her once more.
Perhaps he didn’t know how often that had happened—the moment she felt an iota of contentment in her life, something happened to end it. Her mother died; her father took her to London; her father died; her husband came to end her marriage and abandon her once more.
She would tell him what was on her mind.
No! He was a duke. If she did that, who knew how he would react?
