Page 78 of A Bargain with the Rakish Duke
Lady Featherwell’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Quality is worth traveling for, wouldn’t you agree? But I mustn’t keep you. I’m sure you have… things to attend to.”
“Indeed,” Beatrice said, her voice dripping with honeyed venom. “Do have a safe journey home, Lady Featherwell. The roads can be so treacherous for those who don’t watch their steps.”
With a curt nod to Beatrice, Lady Featherwell swept out of the study, the door closing behind her with a decisive click.
Beatrice turned to Kenneth. “I heard what she said to you before I came in. How she tried to tempt you away from me.”
Kenneth’s jaw clenched, his posture stiff and defensive. “You were eavesdropping? Spying on our conversation?”
Beatrice drew herself up, her voice steady. “I wasn’t eavesdropping. I happened to hear it as I approached. And I’m not sorry I did.”
“My conversation with Lady Featherwell was nothing of importance,” Kenneth said.
“Nothing?” Beatrice scoffed, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “Then why didn’t you put a stop to her advances immediately?”
Kenneth’s jaw tightened. “Lady Featherwell and I have known each other for years. I was merely being polite. Besides, youshouldn’t worry about Lady Featherwell and me when you’ve done nothing to discourage Lord Eastfold’s attentions.”
Beatrice recoiled as if she’d been slapped. “How dare you! Lord Eastfold is a friend because he isyourbusiness associate, nothing more. I’ve never given you cause to doubt my loyalty.”
“Haven’t you?” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “His lingering glances, the private conversations… It’s all rather suspicious, wouldn’t you say?”
“You’re being ridiculous,” Beatrice spat, her cheeks flushing with anger. She took a step towards him, her body trembling with barely contained rage. “I’ve done nothing wrong. You’re the one entertaining the advances of other women!”
Kenneth ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. “Beatrice, this isn’t getting us anywhere. I think we need to discuss our arrangement.”
Her heart sank, a chill creeping into her bones. The sudden shift in his tone made her stomach churn. “What do you mean?”
Kenneth looked down at the floor, unable to meet her eyes. “Perhaps we should halt our arrangement for a while. Take some time away from each other,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion.
The words hit Beatrice like a physical blow, knocking the air out of her lungs. She struggled to breathe, to think clearly throughthe haze of pain that enveloped her. How could he suggest such a thing after everything they’d been through?
She felt as if the room was spinning. She gripped the back of a nearby chair for support, her knuckles turning white.
“I see,” she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. “If that’s what you want, then fine.”
Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and strode out of the study, quickening her steps as she fought back tears.
She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her break down. Not now. Not ever.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Beatrice sat in the parlor of their London townhouse, her fingers absently tracing the delicate patterns on the teacup in her hands.
The house was quiet, save for the soft ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece and the distant sounds of the servants going about their daily tasks.
Kenneth had been absent for well over a week, ever since their heated argument over Lady Featherwell and his decision that they should take some time away from each other.
How did we come to this? Barely speaking, barely able to stand the sight of each other. Is this what our marriage has become?
Her heart ached. She was still furious with Kenneth for his jealousy, for his lack of trust in her. But beneath the anger, there was a deep, yawning emptiness, a void that only his presence could fill.
A sudden knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. Setting down her teacup, she rose to her feet, smoothing down the skirts of her pale blue morning gown.
Who could it be at this hour?
As she entered the foyer, she saw the butler opening the door to reveal the familiar figure of Lord Eastfold.
Beatrice’s heart skipped a beat.
