Page 76 of A Bargain with the Rakish Duke
Kenneth’s face hardened again, his jealousy flaring. “You think I haven’t noticed how you laugh at his jokes? How you smile at him? It’s as if you enjoy his company more than mine.”
Beatrice’s eyes widened in shock and hurt. “That’s ridiculous! I am simply being polite. He’s your business associate, and I have no interest in him beyond that.”
“Polite?” Kenneth scoffed. “It seems like more than politeness to me. You looked so… comfortable with him.”
Beatrice felt a surge of frustration. “Comfortable? Kenneth, I was trying to be a good hostess, nothing more. Why can’t you see that?”
“Because I see the way he looks at you,” Kenneth replied, his voice rising. “And I see the way you respond to him.”
Beatrice’s temper flared. “Respond to him? Do you think I would betray you? After everything, you still don’t trust me?”
Kenneth stepped closer to her, his eyes blazing with jealousy. “I don’t like seeing you with him. It eats at me.”
“I can’t believe this. You’re letting your jealousy cloud your judgment. I’ve done nothing to deserve your distrust,” Beatrice scoffed, her voice trembling with anger and sadness.
“You don’t understand,” Kenneth said, his voice low but still tense. “I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”
Beatrice’s heart ached at his words, but her anger and hurt were too strong. “If you can’t trust me, then what kind of marriage do we have? I can’t live like this, constantly defending myself against baseless accusations.”
Kenneth reached out as if to touch her, but she stepped back. “Beatrice, I?—”
“I need to be alone,” she cut him off, her voice cold and resolute. “I’m going to my chambers.”
Without another word, she stepped out of the room, leaving him standing alone.
Kenneth stood there, staring at the closed door. His anger simmered just beneath the surface, threatening to boil over. With a frustrated growl, he yanked off his boots, flinging them across the room with force. One hit the wall with a dull thud, and the other skidded across the floor.
He began to pace, his mind replaying the scene with Eastfold and Beatrice. The way she had laughed at Eastfold’s jokes, the way her eyes sparkled as she listened to him—it all gnawed at him.
Why did she have to be so friendly with him? He clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. He was flirting with her for God’s sake. How could she not see that?
His footsteps echoed in the room as he continued to pace. He thought about Beatrice’s words, her hurt and frustration clear in her voice.
Maybe I was being unreasonable…
No, I wasn’t. She needs to understand what it looked like.
He stopped by the window, staring out into the dark night.
I can’t stand seeing her with him. The way he looks at her… It’s maddening.
Kenneth sighed, running a hand through his hair.
I let my jealousy get the best of me. She’s never given me any reason to doubt her, and yet I let my insecurities cloud my judgment.
He turned around abruptly, determined to make things right.
With a resolve born of a deep desire to mend the rift between them, Kenneth strode towards the door, his hand reaching for the handle.
But as his fingers touched the cool metal, he hesitated. The image of Eastfold and Beatrice’s shared laughter, the way her eyes had sparkled as she listened to his tales, flashed through his mind. The uneasy feeling in his gut, the one he had tried to dismiss as mere jealousy, resurfaced with a vengeance.
He stepped back, his resolve wavering. He had seen the way Eastfold’s eyes had lingered on her, the way his smile had held a hint of something more than mere friendliness. And Beatrice… she had seemed so engaged, so captivated by his every word.
No. I won’t make a fool of myself. If there’s something between them, I won’t beg for her attention.
His pride, wounded and raw, wouldn’t allow him to take that step. He couldn’t bear the thought of going to her, only to be rejected—or worse, pitied. The very idea made his stomach churn.
Kenneth turned away from the door, his jaw clenched with a stubborn determination. He would not go to her, would not expose himself to the possibility of further hurt.
