Page 27 of A Trap by the Rakish Duke
Philip’s gaze wavered, a hint of something passing across his face before the stony mask settled back in place. He said nothing and continued to eat as though the subject did not interest him.
Undeterred, Aurelia continued, her voice laced with curiosity. “India, the Far East…even the Americas. There is even a rumor that you lived with a sheik in Arabia for some time. Is that true?”
Philip’s knife paused midway to his plate, his grip tightening ever so slightly around the handle.
“You appear quite well-informed,” he uttered, his voice carefully controlled, but there was a trace of tension beneath it.
Aurelia smiled softly, sensing she had struck a nerve. “The Ton loves to talk, Your Grace. They say you are practically a myth, considering all the places you’ve visited. I wonder, did you prefer the deserts of Arabia or the jungles of India?”
Philip’s eyes narrowed slightly, as though weighing whether or not to indulge her with an answer. Finally, he set his utensils down with deliberate calmness, leaning back in his chair, his gaze cold and assessing.
“You seem fascinated by the rumors, Duchess,” he remarked, ignoring her question entirely. “One would think you have better things with which to occupy your time.”
She let out a light laugh, tilting her head. “It is hard not to be intrigued when one’s husband is more legend than man. People say you left England because you could no longer tolerate its dullness, that you sought out danger and adventure. Tell me, what did you discover out there?”
For a long moment, Philip didn’t answer, his gaze distant as though recalling places far removed from the candlelit room in which they now sat.
Then, with a measured tone, he replied, “I found many things. But adventure, Duchess, comes with a price, and the price is always higher than most are willing to pay.”
Her eyes sparkled with interest, but she caught the edge in his voice, a warning not to pry further. Still, she couldn’t resist. “Wereyouwilling to pay it?”
His jaw tightened, and for the first time that evening his cool veneer cracked. “I did what I had to do. As I always do.”
Aurelia studied him, weighing his words and the hint of darkness that lurked beneath them.
She leaned forward slightly, softening her voice. “You came back a changed man.”
He looked at her then, his gaze hard, like a wall she could never breach. “Men change when they have no other choice.”
There was a moment of silence between them, the room heavy with tension.
Finally, she spoke again, her voice quiet but daring. “You must miss it; the freedom, the escape from all of this.” She gestured subtly to their surroundings, to the life they now shared, albeit distantly. “It seems to me that you are always trying to keep something at bay.”
Philip’s eyes darkened, the mask of indifference slipping back into place. “What I miss, Aurelia, is none of your concern.” His tone was colder now, more final.
But Aurelia didn’t back down. She wasn’t satisfied with the surface; she wanted more. She wanted him to open up, if just a little.
“Perhaps not,” she countered, her voice soft yet challenging. “But I am your wife. Surely that entitles me to some insight into the man you are.”
Philip leaned forward, his gaze sharp and unwavering, as if daring her to push him further. “Do not presume to know me, Duchess. You do not. And you will not.”
For a moment, their eyes locked, the air between them electric. Then, as if deciding the conversation was over, Philip returned his attention to his meal, cutting into the silence with his knife.
His tone had been clipped and final, terminating the conversation altogether.
Aurelia leaned back slightly, biting back the urge to press harder. The tension between them was thick and it was clear that Philip had no intention of giving her more than the bare minimum tonight.
But she had not come here to talk about mundane things; she had come to coax something from him, something real, even if she had to provoke it.
As they moved onto the second course of their dinner, Aurelia made her first move, reaching out as if by accident, her fingers brushing against the back of his hand.
Philip stiffened but said nothing.
A few moments later she caught his eye, holding his gaze a beat longer than necessary. There was a flash of something between them; an unspoken dare.
“I must say, Your Grace,” Aurelia began with a smile, her tone light, “I find archery far more interesting than I thought it would be.”
He raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing as though trying to determine how much of her statement was true and how much belonged to the game she was playing.
