Page 31 of A Wicked Duke's Redemption
Violet Brewer, the Duchess of Farnham, joined him for dinner. She said nothing, so neither did Leo. Her gaze seldom left her plate. Leo frowned and took a sip of wine. For a woman who had not been born into wealth, Violet handled herself well at mealtimes. As Leo ate, he was too aware of Violet’s presence.
His eyes traced along the arch of her beautiful neck, and he imagined himself wrapping his arms around her from behind and pressing his lips against her creamy skin. Violet would throw her head back and moan, while her body shuddered from the pleasant sensations which he was certain would be quite foreign to her.
However, she did not want him. She held herself tensely throughout the meal, as if she thought that he was a snake who might strike from the slightest provocation. Leo clenched his jaw. This had been a foolish plan. It was expected that she would feel hesitant around him, given the rumors.
Although he had been initially disappointed by her behavior, he quickly realized that Violet had no reason to disbelieve the rumors. This was a mess of his own making for being reclusive and curt. If he had ever shown himself to be kind or friendly, she might think differently of him. They all might.
He pushed his chair back and stood. She watched him with wide eyes. “I have no expectations for you,” Leo said.
Hedid, but he also knew that Violet could not possibly fulfill them.
“It is for the best that we learn about one another,” Leo added. “For the time being.”
He waited for Violet to answer, but she only stared at him. She seemed baffled by him. The silence between them grew, and still she uttered not a word. After several moments, Leo reached for his glass, finishing his wine in a long gulp.
“Good night, my lady.”
He turned on his heels and left the dining hall. Leo clenched his jaw so hard that his teeth hurt. She had not saidanythingto him, not an expression of agreement or satisfaction. Not even a common courtesy.
It might not have hurt so badly if Leo had notknownthat Violet was more than capable of being witty and charming. His desire to be sympathetic warred with his want to take her as his wife, to have her hunger for him the way that he did for her.
“Your Grace?”
The unexpected question tore him from his thoughts. He looked over his shoulder and found Mrs. Gunderson standing at the foot of the stairs and watching him with such concern that his heart ached. “Mrs. Gunderson.”
She frowned. “Am I to assume that dinner was not as enjoyable as you had hoped?”
Leo sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “It was a rather silent affair, which is not what I would have hoped.”
“Shall I bring you some brandy?”
Leo sighed. He knew that the inquiry was not just about a drink. Mrs. Gunderson was truly asking if he might wish to discuss the disastrous dinner. Leo scowled. He could not decide if that was desirable, but he also knew that there was no one else he could speak to about the manner.
“Yes,” he said. “Brandy would be much appreciated.”
He took to the stairs, storming to his study. Leo passed the parlor maid—no, she was Violet’s lady’s maid now—who hastened to step out of his path. “You,” he said.
Emma halted and stumbled into a curtsey. “Yes, Your Grace?”
“How are you finding my duchess?” he asked.
Emma’s face paled. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but no sound emerged. Leo’s scowl deepened.
“Never mind,” he said. “It seems as if every woman except Mrs. Gunderson has forgotten how to speak tonight.”
Emma made an anxious sound, which might have been a laugh or a squeak. “H—Her Grace is lovely!” she exclaimed in a single rush of air. “She is delightful to converse with!”
Ofcourse, Violet would speak to anyone who was not him. Leo scoffed and resumed climbing the stairs to his study. Even knowing that Violet’s behavior was rational, expected even, did little to assuage his sudden frustration that she would not evenspeakto him.
He entered his study and slumped into the chair behind his desk. What had he beenthinkingwith this plan? It seemed absurd that he thought it would work, that he could persuade Violet totoleratehis presence even.
“Your Grace,” Mrs. Gunderson said, entering. She carried the familiar decanter of brandy and the glasses with her. “Do you want to talk about dinner?”
Leo straightened. “Maybe.”
The housekeeper nudged the door closed behind her and placed the brandy and glasses on Leo’s desk. “Well,” she said, opening the decanter. “I have no other obligations this evening and am happy to listen.”
Mrs. Gunderson poured him a glass of brandy, which he took without hesitation. She settled across from him with the other glass. At least there wassomeonein the household who was not terrified of him. Otherwise, he imagined he would become a madman.
