Page 22 of Married to the Forbidden Duke
“Yes, I imagine with some assistance that you may be able to ride as well as you ever did,” the physician smiled warmly as he met her gaze.
The Duke rose immediately. “Thank you, sir. This has been most illuminating. Do you have any other recommendations?”
The physician showed her how to stretch and what exercises she ought to do, the Duke observing all the while, before finally leaving.
Alice rose, using her stick to support herself as she experimented with one of the stretches. Her muscle burned, but the massaging he had given the muscle eased the ache that went along with it.
Added blood flow, he had said.
Was it possible that she might have a future, after all?
When the Duke came back into the room, the cloud on his brow still not having lifted, she forgot that they were at odds and she despised him.
“I never thought it possible,” she said in a dazed voice.
“Thought what was possible?” he asked.
“That I might walk again.”
He blinked, and some of the grimness left his face. “As you so eloquently put, I am an affluent man, Alice. If something is possible, Iwillfind a way of achieving it.”
All their past came rushing back into the space between them. Hewasa rich and influential man, and because of that, he had escaped the justice that ought to have followed him after her parents’ deaths.
For a moment, she had almost beengrateful…
With her stick, she had little dignity to hand, but she endeavored to find it anyway, sweeping past him and to the stairwell. “I will get Jenny to massage my leg,” she announced. “And I will try these exercises.”
He watched her go with dark eyes, and she half thought he would inform her thathewould be taking charge of her exercises and massages, but he said nothing, merely watched her painstakingly climb the stairs. At least he hadn’t offered to help her. She thought she would have expired from the shame of it.
But no matter what kindness he showed at occasional intervals, she could not allow herself to forget who hewasand what he had done to her. Nothing could sway her from her task of ruining him as effectively as he had ruined her.
CHAPTER NINE
Frederick endured several days of poor meals at his new wife’s discretion. The physician came around almost every day to massage Alice’s leg, being the only one who felt as though he could do it well enough, and although it felt as though there was a fist around his chest, he had no choice but to allow it.
All the while, preparations for the ball went ahead around them, and on the day of the ball, he was pleased to find Alice standing in the middle of the ballroom, giving directions about where the servants should place the hothouse flowers. He had not originally thought she would take all that much of an interest.
And later, when he descended to find her standing in the hall, waiting for him, he was pleasantly surprised to find her in a pale pink chiffon ballgown, gloves up to her elbows and her chestnut curls soft by her heart-shaped face. Although she still had that stick under her arm, she looked stunning. Beautiful in a way that had his breath catching, and he took a second to regain his composure as he came to stand by her side.
“Why don’t you lean on me?” he asked, extending his arm and nodding to her stick. “I’ll support you.”
Her brows rose. “Do I not look well?”
“I suspect you know precisely how well you look,” he said dryly. He had already kissed her—she knew beyond all doubt that he found her attractive. “Are you ready for tonight?”
The combative light he’d expected from her didn’t spark in her eyes. He’d spoken to the servants, and it didn’t sound as though she had anything large or drastic planned. And she looked the part; in fact, it appeared as though she had gone out of her way to look her best, wearing a silken gown that hugged her figure.
Not the actions of a woman determined to destroy them both, he would have thought.
Her fingers tightened around her stick. “I am ready.”
He looked her over once more, before accepting she would not rely on him alone. Conceding defeat, he approached her other side and took her hand. She wrapped it around his upper arm, squeezing her bicep as though she had not expected to find the ball of muscle there. After a second, she let it lay limply and properly on his forearm. But he could not forget the squeeze.
Together, united for perhaps the first time in their marriage, they walked from the hallway through to the ballroom, whichwas decked out in flowers and beautiful chalk patterns on the floor. She certainly had gone out of her way to make it beautiful.
“Lovely,” he murmured.
She looked around as though seeing it for the first time. “Yes.” Her voice sounded strange, slightly strangled. “It is.”
