Page 32 of A Wicked Duke's Arranged Marriage
“Aren’t you happy, Josephine?”
The question caught her off guard, her gaze slipping away from the two pairs of broad shoulders in front of her and to her mother. Her mother stared at her plaintively, worry furrowing her brow.
Her eyes danced between Josephine’s own, her hand reaching out not to prod Josephine again but to press as if encouraging her to speak up if she wasn’t.
Josephine was reminded all over again why she had to carry out the task set before her.
The two men stopping in front of them as they walked back into the house through the side door saved her from having to answer her mother’s question, their group joining as one again as the maid – Elenor, Josephine thought she remembered her name from when she had been introduced to the staff that morning – closed the door once more behind them, shutting them into the manor.
“What a wonderful idea.” Josephine’s father chuckled as the four came to stand in a sort of circle there in the foyer. “Darling, His Grace has suggested that Josephine might like a private tour of the manor … and informed me that his cook prepared a honey cake this morning that you and I could go and sample while they became better acquainted.”
He beamed at them both, his eyes twinkling with ill-repressed joy, and Josephine felt her smile become more genuine just to see it.
“You and your honey cakes.” Josephine’s mother laughed, her gaze darting between her husband and daughter as she hesitated. “Of course, I have no objection … so long as Josephine is inclined?” Her voice rose at the end, the sincerity in her eyes making it clear that she was asking about more than just the duke’s offer of a tour.
And Josephine was hit by a wave of emotion, her throat closing up as she forced her smile to be brighter, her fingers closing hard around her mother’s as she nodded.
“A tour sounds lovely,” she murmured, letting go of her mother’s hand and reminding herself of what was on the line.
The duke remained impassive through the exchange, his green eyes shrewd but his expression shuttered.
“Elenor here will show the two of you into the drawing room,” the duke said once it had been decided, his large hand sweeping back to indicate the maid who hurried to jump and do as she was told.
Josephine’s father was only too happy to follow, her mother shooting Josephine one last glance before being led off alongside him.
And then there were two.
Heaven help her but standing next to him was intimidating. And not only because of the news that she had only just learned.
Heat seemed to fizzle between them, a kind of static clinging to her hand as he offered her his arm silently. Even just placing her palm on his sleeve felt indecent, her stomach doing flips that felt impossible as she kept her gaze off of the bright green that seemed to skewer her to the spot.
“I don’t imagine we will have time to tour the entire manor,” the duke offered conversationally as he started walking with her on his arm. “But I imagine it might make things easier if you have some familiarity with the house before being dropped into it.”
His phrasing made her snort, her eyes finally lifting to his as she considered him. It was a kind thing he was doing, showing her around. Even kinder given his reasoning.
“Thank you,” she murmured honestly, relaxing somewhat as he led her down one of the main hallways.
“That, as you know, is the informal dining room,” he indicated with a nod. “And to the left is the main library.” He paused in the doorway, allowing Josephine to step into it and look around at the massive room.
It was large, with heavy brocade fabrics and wall-to-wall bookshelves filled with tomes of all shapes and sizes. The chairs were elegant and opulent, the fabric not even faded where one might imagine from repeated use. It was lovely, of course, but Josephine couldn’t quite imagine herself perusing the shelves comfortably.
“And down the hall a little further,” he continued, slowly leading her as she stopped peering into the library, “we have a more private sitting room, more often referred to as the ‘private library’.”
The second room was smaller and more cluttered, though no less charming for it. It, too, was filled with wall-to-wall shelves but the chairs within were mismatched and clearly worn in. The fabric choice was more eclectic, a large set of windows at one end boasting a cushioned window seat with pillows in a sage-green colour that Josephine thought rather matched its lord’s eyes.
“Oh,” she breathed, taking it all in and laughing somewhat breathlessly as she shot him a half-apologetic look. “I know it should likely be the opposite, but I can much more easily see myself in this library rather than the other.”
The duke was staring at her, an oddly intense look in his eyes as he did.
Josephine shifted sheepishly under his gaze, her lips opening with a ready apology before he cut her off.
“Martha–” he stopped, wincing as he cleared his throat. “My late wife … She was much the same mind. I don’t think she entered the public library to do more than entertain.” His grief was apparent as he spoke, but so too was the fondness with which his voice shifted over her name.
And Josephine’s tongue moved faster than her brain, all of her questions and worry tripping out of her in odd confluence.
“I’m so sorry to hear about your late wife,” she whispered, wincing at how paltry it sounded aloud. “I mean, I was sorry to begin with,” she continued quickly. “I only just learned about the circumstances of her death, and I know it likely makes things much harder. That is to say – oh, I’m botching this terribly. I only meant to offer you sympathy. You can hear how much you love her when you speak of her.”
Josephine cut off, biting down on the inside of her cheek to keep from digging herself any further into the hole of embarrassment she had created.
