Page 12 of Seduced By the Beastly Duke

Truth be told, many things hadn’t turned out the way he hoped they would. This was merely one of them. But at the same time, there was something about Lady Amelia which would not let him be. He admired her bravado for standing up for herself by coming here on her own to demand her rights. He could not imagine any woman doing that, and yet, she did. Bravely so. He wondered what other amazing feats she hid under that veil of serenity that she constantly wore.

“Where is she now?” he asked Mrs. Collins.

“I do believe she asked to have her morning tea in the garden,” Mrs. Collins informed him. “Isabella just brought it over to her, I think.”

“All right then,” he nodded. “I shall have my morning tea in the garden as well, Mrs. Collins.”

She seemed a bit taken aback by this decision as Arthur had stopped taking tea in the garden, ever since the tragedy. The garden had always been his mother’s sanctuary. That was where he had spent some of the most precious moments of his childhood, and it was simply too painful to relive them on his own.

He didn’t wait for Mrs. Collins to say anything. Instead, he headed out the door immediately and shortly, found himself out in the garden. It was in the same condition as the house itself. Weeds had taken over almost completely. They never had a gardener as his mother enjoyed tending to the flowers herself. After his parents’ death, Arthur saw no point in hiring a gardener when there would be no one to enjoy the garden.

He walked past unmarked flowerbeds which were devoid of any life and color. His mind filled in the gaps, reminding him how lush and wonderful this garden had once been. In fact, their whole home, inside and out, was once the envy of everyone who had ever stepped foot in it. Now, it was merely a painful eyesore.

He followed a pathway which he knew by heart. The fact that it was hidden by overgrown shrubbery was irrelevant. He knew where it led, towards the big gazebo where he had spent many a carefree afternoon, having ice cold lemonade while watching his mother tend to her flowers. His father would be seated in his study the whole afternoon, but every once in a while, he would walk over to the window that overlooked the garden, and he would wave at them. Arthur would sometimes see him there, and he would wave back.

This time, he saw her. Amelia.

She was seated on iron cast chairs, softened by thick cushions that blended in with the greenery around them. She had her profile turned to him, but she wasn’t looking in his direction. Her face was bathed with the sun, glowing with unearthly beauty. She was leaning against the chair. He could see her swan-like neck and the few loose curls which escaped her tight coiffure. Instantly, he remembered seeing her in her nightgown with her hair down. The thought made his blood rush immediately, making his throat dry and his head hot. He banished the thought from his mind hastily.

She heard his oncoming footsteps and turned to him. She didn’t smile, but she wasn’t frowning either.

“Good morning,” he said first.

“Good morning,” she replied without any emotion in her voice. He wondered if she was very upset with him because of the conversation from the previous night.

“May I join you?” he asked, gesturing at the three empty chairs around her as if half-expecting she would say that they are occupied because someone would be coming along shortly. The tea was already laid out in front of her, but she hadn’t touched it yet.

Instead of a reply, she gestured with her hand at the chair opposite her. He nodded, taking a seat right where she pointed. This time, he was able to see her full face as he gazed at her. She was truly a beauty. He could not escape that realization every time he saw her. And this beauty was now his wife. Although, there would be no wifely or husbandly duties between them. She had made that perfectly clear.

“About last night…” he started, clearing his throat a little as he spoke. She watched him intently, her face beautifully impassive, refusing to reveal any of the emotions that must have been brewing inside of her. She had so much self-control, much more than any other woman he had ever known.

He waited for a moment longer then continued. “Perhaps I was a bit hasty last night when I suggested that renovating this place would be a… bad idea.”

Barely noticeably, her left eyebrow moved. That was the only indication of her interest in this conversation. Yet, he decided to take it as a good sign.

“This is your home as well,” he added, feeling like he lost the thread of what exactly he wanted to say, and now, he was merely following his gut feeling regarding what he should say in hopes that it would lead him in the right direction. “I want you to feel comfortable here. I know it isn’t much to look at but –”

“It’s all right,” she suddenly interrupted him. “I understand why you are so reluctant to change anything here.”

He lifted his eyebrow at her, subconsciously pulling away. “You do?”

“Of course,” she nodded. She wasn’t smiling, but there was a tender expression on her face, full of sympathy.

That was what made him pull away. He had seen those faces of sympathy merged with pity far too many times. He never wanted to see them again, especially not in his own home. He swallowed heavily, fighting the urge to get up and run back inside the house, but he knew that would create an even bigger chasm between them. Something told him that would be the wrong thing to do.

“I know this was your parents’ home,” she continued. “I want you to know that I wasn’t intending on changing anything drastic here. I just want to revert it back to its old shine.”

“Oh.” He sounded more confused than he wanted to be. “Well… in that case, you are free to redecorate as you please.”

“I would never do anything behind your back,” she assured him. “I would ask for your confirmation of every change I wish to make before actually making it.”

He was stunned by how considerate she was. “That is most kind of you, Lady Amelia.”

This time, she smiled. “We are husband and wife. I think it’s time we started referring to each other by our given names, don’t you think so, Arthur?”

When she said his name, it sounded like the sudden explosion of a waterfall deep inside the woods. He wanted to hear it over and over again.

“Yes, Amelia,” he smiled back. “I –” he started but the sudden appearance of his servant Isabella interrupted him mid-speech. He waited until she set the tea onto the table and took her leave, but by that time, he had forgotten what he wanted to say. All he could do was stare at Amelia as she took her cup and brought it to her lips.

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