Page 15 of Wedded to the Beastly Duke
Well, so he had succeeded in getting under her skin, but she had no intention of letting him get away with it.
Particularlyas he seemed to be going out of his way to avoid her.
“Very well,” she said to the empty room, ignoring the impassive footmen who had witnessed their first fight as a married couple. “So you have won this battle, Your Grace, but it is I who shall win the war.”
ChapterFive
The next few days proceeded as Emmeline’s first one had, save for the fact that the breakfast table was empty when she went downstairs. Every day, she was informed that the Duke had already eaten, but that more food could be brought up for her.
Emmeline took to ordering marmalade to eat with her bread, which she had to admit was fresh, and instead of coffee, which she thought to be unpleasantly bitter, she would make herself tea.
From there, she would read the newspapers left on the table, abandoned from when the Duke was done with them. She had the sneaking suspicion he was being alerted whenever she left her room. Even if he was in the middle of eating his meal, he would abandon his plate.
It was almost gratifying to be the subject of such avoidance, but it chafed a little. She could hardly prove herself to be an intolerable annoyance if she was given no opportunity to annoy him.
Despite that, she found she was able to settle in well enough. Mrs. Pentwhistle was endlessly kind, talking about every aspect of the house and its history.
Through Mrs. Pentwhistle, Emmeline learned that although the Duke spent a great deal of his time in the forbidden east wing, he often spoke with her and the butler and ensured they all had everything they needed—that was in his power to give—and that he had commanded the respect of the servants in a remarkably short period of time.
She learned a little about the previous Duke. William had been a good man, kind of a little impetuous, but he had spent more time in London, away from the estate. They were only an hour or so away from the capital, but William had loved Society, had loved the glamor, and had not liked the slower-paced life in the country. The only time he had ever spent significant portions of time at home was during the hunting season—and then he always had a party of gentlemen with him.
“I already know the current Duke is going to be different,” Mrs. Pentwhistle said fondly. “He has a love of the land.”
The Duke’s love of the land did not, apparently, extend to him spending any time in it. As far as Emmeline could see, he spent almost all his time locked in his east wing and did not so much as come out for dinner.
Left with little choice, Emmeline took it upon herself to familiarize herself with the house.
She walked through the old rooms, consulting the inventories to ensure they were up to date, and made plans for what changes she could make that would brighten up the place. Having had so much experience in managing a house, this felt like familiar territory.
In more ways than one, it was a good thing Aurelia had not married the Duke. She would not have known where to start.
Distracted by taking notes of the linen stocks, Emmeline did not know had close she had strayed to the east wing when a door swung open. Steps charged toward her, and she just had time to look up at the Duke’s furious, stern face. His blue eyes flashed, and his mouth was a hard, uncompromising line.
“You,” he snapped, standing so close that she stepped back until her back hit the wall.
“Me, Your Grace,” she said coolly. “I gather my presence here in your home was a surprise.”
“What are you doing here?”
She held up the paper with her notes. “Merely taking a fresh inventory. Mrs. Pentwhistle has taken one, of course, but I find it beneficial to do it myself.”
“And you thought to do so in the specific part of the house that you have been warned to stay away from?”
Emmeline looked past him at the door she had entered. It had not been locked, and the corridor beyond was a continuation of what had come before. Nothing about it suggested it was forbidden.
Irritation flared as she brought her gaze back to him. Howdarehe stand there and intimidate her as though she was some kind of lackey?
“Perhaps if you had wanted me not to intrude, you ought to have taken the effort to tell me where I can and cannot go. Then again, for that, you would have had to care.” She folded her arms over her chest defiantly. “I will not be ordered around this house in that overbearing fashion, Your Grace.”
He stepped closer to her, his voice low and rough with rage. “You would do well to obey my rules and do your duty.”
“What rules? What duty am I not already upholding? As your wife, it is myroleto take care of the household.”
“Your role is to be my wife,” he snapped, a wild gleam in his eyes. “I have made my preferences plain—you will keep quiet, not enter the east wing, and bear me an heir.”
Of all the overbearing things to say, this was beyond the pale. Emmeline jutted her chin defensively, trying to ignore his proximity or the way he was forcing her against the wall. His chest almost touched hers.
“You are mistaken if you believe I will let you into my bed, My Lord Duke.”
