Page 36 of The Phantom Duke
So, I will not be summoned to his bedchamber then.
Maria could not decide if she was relieved by the realization. Maybe it meant only that he would come to her bedchamber, and the result would be the same—the fulfillment of their marital duties. Her throat was dry.
“As are the back stairs which are behind this door,” Mrs. Whitby said, rattling a tarnished brass doorknob to show that the door was locked.
“Why is that?” Maria asked.
“It leads to the south wing, which is forbidden,” Mrs. Whitby said, all merriment leaving her face. “His Grace is most insistent, and…he has fired staff who even inadvertently transgressed that rule.”
Maria’s eyebrows rose. She had supposed that most of the rules regarding locked doors applied only to her, the newcomer. But it seemed every staff member was distrusted as well.
What manner of secrets does he protect?
“He is a very private man,” Maria mused as they went downstairs. “Has he always been so secretive?”
“Oh, yes. Ever since he was a boy. That’s what being cooped up away from the world will do to you,” Mrs. Whitby said. “May I just say, Your Grace, how glad I am that His Grace has finally taken a wife. A woman’s touch in this house is sorely needed. And…may I speak plainly for a moment?”
“Of course, you may always speak your mind to me, Mrs. Whitby,” Maria said.
She had assumed that Mrs. Whitby was speaking frankly already, but Maria was disinclined to make note of that, for she was desperate for any information that might reveal more of her husband’s character.
“Oh, now that was how the old duchess was!” Mrs. Whitby clapped her hands together in delight. “Well, I think it will be good for the master as well, though he won’t show it. You’ll have to divine his happiness or not by other means than his face. But, speaking as one who knew him and his parents, it will be good for him. We are all glad that you are here!”
Maria eventually retired to her rooms. A bottle of wine rested on the sideboard in her bedroom with a fresh glass. She poured herself a measure to quell the butterflies that gamboled in her stomach.
Will he come tonight to claim his marital rights? Will I refuse him as I told him I would? I need his good favor for Gilbert’s sake? Oh Lord, what a conundrum! To protect my honor or protect my adopted child.
CHAPTER 11
Damien had dined in his rooms, as was his custom. Afterward, he took up a book that he had selected from the library and seated himself in his favorite chair for reading after dinner. The window was open, looking out over a quadrangle which nestled amid the spires and stone of Winterleigh. A gnarled oak rose from its middle, defying the ancient house that had risen around it.
A bar of warm, golden light spilled out across the grass around the oak, almost reaching its fissured trunk. Damien turned a page, but his eyes were drawn to that light when he saw a shadow. With a frisson of pleasure, he realized that the rooms he had designated for Maria were directly beneath his own. The shadow was hers.
That was not a conscious thought. I chose those rooms for her almost thoughtlessly. Perhaps something in me was perfectly aware of where she would be at night. And where I would be.
He put down the book, watching the shadowed shape. She stood with arms outstretched as though she had just flung the windows wide. The silhouette she cast showed that she was in her nightdress. Or perhaps her chemise. It hung from her arms, but he could see the delicate line of her shoulders. They were bare.
His breath quickened, remembering his promise to her at the altar.
A blasphemy, certainly, to be talking of such things in a holy place. But then I am unholy, according to my father.
She lowered her arms, and the silhouette collapsed for a moment, as though she were crouching. When her figure reappeared, he could see the outline of her body. She had stripped herself of the garment, and the light from her room outlined the curves of a female form. A perfect example of femininity.
Damien’s mouth was dry and his loins afire as he studied the curve of her hips. Then, as she turned, the proud outline of pert breasts.
She tantalizes me! Teases me!
But then she could not know that he was watching. She probably did not even know that his rooms were directly above her. She exposed herself to an empty quad and a tree.
But Mrs. Whitby gave her a tour of the house. Surely, my rooms were pointed out!
Suddenly, Damien laughed. Of course, she knew. He had challenged her in the chapel, attempting to sow the seeds of fear in her mind. And now she challenged him. To come and claim her.
Damien picked up his book, trying to take in the words, but he could not concentrate on them. The image of her hidden nakedness was revealed so maddeningly through the medium of shadow. So very revealing and yet showing nothing, just like the gown she had worn for their wedding ceremony. Finally, he threw the book aside and stood, striding for the door.
Maria donned a silk nightgown to replace her usual cotton one. The silk clung to her. She was in a state of undress, but nothing inappropriate for a lady in her bedroom. The fine material flaunted her figure in a manner far more effectively than the gowns she wore during the day.
If Damien intended to visit her this evening, she was determined that she would be ready. The nightgown had been a present from Evelina, guaranteed to make a man’s mouth water, she had joked.
