Page 52 of Three Rules to Wed a Duke

“What about the truth? Can I not be trusted as well? Or does that trust only work for one of us?”

“What do you mean?”

Frances took a deep breath, trying to keep from crying out in frustration.

“Why is part of the house locked off, even to me, the Duchess of Preston?” she demanded as gently as she could.

“It is private,” Anthony answered with a curt nod.

“I see. Why is there a nurse on your staff when there are no children about?”

“That’s a personal matter.”

“Of course it is. Quite personal, I should think,” she replied, rolling her eyes and unable to keep the sarcasm from creeping into her reply. “Then tell me this. Why do you keep only three servants?”

“It is all I require.”

“Why do you never go out?” she challenged.

“I do go out. It’s how I met you.”

“Why do you never travel to your estates? Not even for us to have a honeymoon and get to know one another?”

Frances was shocked to see Anthony flinch. She watched his face carefully, for the question had clearly struck a chord in him. Justas quickly as it had happened, his expression became serene and detached once more.

“I don’t think the location matters very much. We’ve gotten to know one another quite well in the days since our marriage. You’ve come to understand that I’m a very private person. I’ve come to realize that you are endlessly curious about things that don’t concern you. See?”

Frances sighed again, ignoring his slight attempt at humor.

“Why do you answer every question as though there was no deeper meaning to it? As if the surface of yourself as a man is all there is when I know there must be more to you than these simple words?”

Anthony was struck silent again. Frances could practically see the thoughts moving in his mind as he sought a response, one that would be as shallow as everything else he’d said. He shocked her by replying with the most heartfelt words she’d heard him utter.

“I’m not very skilled at showing what I’m feeling.”

“What does that even mean?” she asked, sounding concerned instead of bothered.

“All my life, I’ve had to keep my thoughts and my feelings hidden from others. I had my mother to look after and a—well, I had to inherit my father’s position at a very young age. I hadresponsibilities, obligations. There was no time for emotions. So, I’ve become quite adept at keeping my feelings to myself.”

“Aren’t you tired of it?” Frances asked, looking at him longingly.

Anthony shook his head. “It’s the only way I know how to be.”

“You never just wish to scream or shout or throw back your head in laughter at something funny?”

“What purpose would that serve?”

Frances started to answer, but she struggled for the words. What sort of person didn’t know the joy of laughter or the longing of tears? He seemed to have decided those things, those feelings, were unnecessary somehow, almost as if they were beneath him.

“Their purpose? They show that we are people, Anthony. We are capable of feeling things, just as animals do, but we can express those feelings in ways that only creatures such as ourselves can. They prove that… that we’re alive.”

Anthony watched her, taking in her expression and looking at her so unexpectedly that Frances began to grow self-conscious. He didn’t speak, but stared at her in such a way that she thought he was considering her words deeply.

“I’m happy,” he said at last.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I said I’m happy.”

---