Page 35 of A Virgin for the Duke of Scars
She finished stripping the bed and replaced the linens as Theresa stepped into a nightgown.
While she hadn’t done the same heavy chores she used to do at the convent, she felt exhausted after her exploration. It was stressful, being in a new place where she knew nothing and no one. It took a toll on her mind and body that she couldn’t quite explain.
She might miss lunch, but what was the point if her husband would not join her?
She climbed into bed, the heavy blankets wrapping around her snugly.
The bed was more comfortable than anything she had ever slept in before. She imagined what it would be like to expose her dear Margaret to this new lifestyle. The two of them could easily share this bed.
And then she wouldn’t have to be alone.
Blackwell Manor was not at all what she thought it would be. Instead of being busy doing chores, she was holed up in her chambers with no one to whisper secrets to.
She could have used Margaret’s hand in hers, reassuring her that everything would be fine and that the Lord would watch out for her as he watches out for the sparrows.
An ache settled in her chest at the thought of Margaret’s voice. She had been surrounded by servants all day, but lacked anyone to genuinely talk with her. She had much she wanted to share about her new life, and no close friends or sisters around.
Heaviness settled in her limbs as she thought about her day. She was surrounded by servants, but she was intensely lonely. The servants were not her friends or her companions. The only true companion she had was her dear husband.
While the thought of that thrilled her, she also had reservations. How would she navigate life with her new husband when he had so much power over her? She did not think she could enjoy a man’s presence nearly as much as she had in his study.
The ache she felt for Margaret turned to a different kind of ache in her body, one that stirred her in ways she did not quite understand.
Yes, she had her husband to contend with, but he may not be the friend she had hoped to find. Maybe she could get to know Juliette and the Dowager Duchess. Juliette, at least, had the promise of being a new sister.
After a few restless moments, Theresa threw back the covers and decided to roam the manor. It was getting late, and she hoped not to run into anyone in her nightgown.
Her feet hit the cold stone floor and chased away the fatigue that had seeped into her bones.
She walked out into the hall and turned right. Her feet seemed to know exactly where to take her.
She sneaked around the manor as if she were doing something utterly forbidden.
Ridiculous.He is my husband. I shall visit him when I want to, whether he wants to see me or not.
As she approached the stairs leading up to the tower where Aaron had shut himself away, she hesitated. He had mentioned consequences for breaking the rules—hisrules. But the punishment could not be worse than the one Sister Mary loved to mete out. Theresa doubted he would hit her with a rod. She did not think he had it in him.
She would take her chances.
She climbed up the stairs and stood in front of the heavy wooden door. With a deep breath, she slowly pushed it open and peeked into the darkness within. Before she could take a step forward, something grabbed her shoulders and pulled her sharply to the right of the door.
She collided with a hard chest, and an arm wrapped around her neck, making it impossible to move and even gasp out a breath.
She struggled for a moment, though she didn’t particularly mind being pressed against her dear husband’s chest. His skin was warm, and she loved the silky feel of it under her hands. It ignited something deep in her core.
A blush crept onto her cheeks.
“Theresa,” Aaron sighed with relief. He relaxed his grip on her but kept a hand on her neck.
Now that her face was not squished against his chest, she took a deep breath.
“What the hell are you doing? Bored with your life already?”
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t rest, and my feet led me here,” she tried to explain. She felt something wet on her neck, but she dared not reach up to see what it was. “I thought you… you might be expecting me. To perform my wifely duties.”
Aaron scoffed but then let go of her neck. She touched the wetness on her throat, and her hand came away red.
“Paint, not blood,” he assured.
