Page 30 of A Bargain with the Rakish Duke
“Of course, Your Grace. I will see to it immediately.”
As Mrs. Whitfield left the room, Beatrice sat back down, her mind swirling with emotions.
The reality of her situation began to settle heavily upon her. She was alone in a vast, unfamiliar castle, married to a man she barely knew, and already faced with the daunting task of integrating herself into his life and household.
She walked over to the window, staring out at the sea. The waves crashed against the shore with a soothing rhythm, but the sense of isolation only deepened. The grandeur of the castle and the beauty of the landscape were stark contrasts to the loneliness that gripped her heart.
“Am I truly alone in this?” she whispered to herself. “Can I find my place here, or will I always feel like an outsider?”
The door opened again, and Anna returned with a tray. “Your supper, Your Grace.”
Beatrice turned away from the window, forcing a smile. “Thank you, Anna.”
The tray was laden with slices of cold meats, fresh bread, cheese, and a small fruit tart. The sight of it brought a sense of comfort, even if only a small one.
Anna set the tray on a small table near the fireplace. “Will there be anything else, Your Grace?”
“No, that will be all for now, Anna. Thank you for your assistance.”
Anna curtsied once more and quietly left the room.
Beatrice sat down at the table, taking a small bite of the fruit tart. The sweetness lingered on her tongue, but it did little to lift her spirits.
After finishing her meal, she returned to the window, gazing out at the darkening sky. The sea was a constant reminder of change and continuity, of the ebb and flow of life. She would find her rhythm here, just as she had always done.
“Tomorrow is a new day,” she whispered to herself. “And with it, a new beginning.”
With that thought, she turned away from the window, deciding it was time to prepare for bed. She rang the bell, and moments later, Anna entered the room with a quiet knock.
“Your Grace, shall I assist you in preparing for bed?” Anna asked gently.
“Yes, please, Anna,” Beatrice replied, feeling a wave of fatigue wash over her.
Anna moved efficiently, helping Beatrice out of her day dress and into a soft, comfortable nightgown. As she brushed out Beatrice’s hair, she kept up a light chatter.
“It’s a lovely evening, isn’t it, Your Grace? The sea air always makes for a peaceful night’s sleep. And the castle is truly magnificent. The gardens are particularly beautiful in the spring.”
Beatrice was only half-listening, her mind preoccupied with the loneliness of her situation. She had not imagined she would spend her wedding night alone, and the thought weighed heavilyon her heart. She found herself nodding absently to Anna’s words, the maid’s cheerful voice a distant comfort.
“Thank you, Anna,” she said once her hair was done. “That will be all for tonight.”
Anna curtsied, her eyes filled with understanding. “Good night, Your Grace. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ring for me.”
Beatrice managed a small smile. “Good night, Anna.”
As Anna quietly left the room, Beatrice climbed into the large, inviting bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. The softness of the linens and the gentle crackling of the fire should have been comforting, but the silence of the castle felt overwhelming.
She stared at the canopy above her, the flickering shadows dancing across the fabric.
Her thoughts drifted to the Duke once more. She remembered the sight of him shirtless in his room, the way his muscles rippled under his skin, and the hint of vulnerability in his eyes.
She recalled the way he had looked on his horse during the Pall Mall game, so confident and commanding. A warmth spread through her at the memory, and she chastised herself for thinking about him so much.
Suddenly, Lady Featherwell’s words echoed in her mind.
“He’ll tire of you, just like he tires of all his conquests.”
Her last thoughts were of Kenneth, of the unspoken tension and the undeniable attraction between them. She wondered if he felt the same pull, the same desire.
