Page 27 of A Bride for the Forbidden Duke
“Who knows when I shall see her again?” Veronica raised her voice.
But the Duke’s eyes still did not lift to her. She had half a mind to pull his face to hers, tomakehim see her.
“You can visit Lady Grantham whenever you like,” he said. “If you do not, that is none of my concern.” He frowned. “That reminds me that I must elaborate.”
“On what?”
“The conditions of our marriage,” he intoned.
Finally, he looked at her, and she was suddenly regretting wanting his attention. The second those brown eyes lifted to hers, her heart stuttered.
What is this madness?
“Once Robert has been found…” he trailed off, and she hearddead or alive, suddenly grateful he had not been as blunt as in the garden the other night, “… we shall live separately. As to the matter of now, you shall do as you please as the Duchess of Westley. Of course, you will be discreet.”
There he goes with his orders, she thought, aggravated.
“However,” he continued sharply, “you must not ask questions about what I do or where I go. That is my business and mine alone. Being duchess does not grant you power over me or a right to know everything. If you stay out of my business, then I shall stay out of yours.”
The air grew thick with meaning.
“Do you mean to have mistresses, then, Your Grace?” she asked, her voice hard.
The Duke scoffed, looking away from her.
“It is true that many married men take mistresses, is it not? I would not think a man such as yourself would be above honor to a wife he did not even choose.”
“I was fully aware of my choices when I made them.” He gave her a withering look.
“Regardless, I received a pity proposal. One of duty, no doubt. So I do not wish to fool myself into thinking that you will not sneak out to warm another woman’s bed.”
“I shall go where I pleasewhenI please. Understood?”
His face was suddenly very close to hers, his hand fisted on the carriage bench, ever so close to her leg. She tensed, now aware of how heavily she breathed from their argument and how her chest rose and fell.
The Duke’s eyes bore into her, flickering over her face. His hand moved closer to her skirt-clad leg, but before he could move closer, and before Veronica could question what he was doing, the carriage pulled to a stop.
“If I take a mistress,” he said to her, his voice pitched low, sending a curl of dangerous heat through Veronica, “then it will not come with your permission.”
And although his words betrayed their very marriage, convenient or not, his voice dripped with rich velvet, and Veronica fought a shiver.
“We have arrived, Your Grace,” a voice called from outside.
Yet the Duke did not move. Not for another few moments, in which he only held her gaze with intent. And then a low, frustrated noise emanated from his throat before he pulled back and opened the carriage door and stalked towards the manor. Stunned, Veronica followed slowly, giving her hand to the carriage footman, who helped her down.
Either side of the sweeping staircase into the manor, the staff lined up in two neat rows, all of them with their hands clasped and polite smiles on their faces. But she noted their surprise.
She nodded, greeting each of them, until she got to a woman with a low bun that was graying and a kind but tired smile on her face.
“Your Grace,” she said, curtseying to Veronica.
I shall have to get used to that.
The Duke shook his head, having waited at the top of the staircase. “Mrs. Nelson,” he introduced. “My housekeeper. But as soon as Veronica opened her mouth to greet the housekeeper, the Duke strode into Westley Manor, leaving her behind.
She tried to stifle her shock.
Mrs. Nelson smiled at her again. “Pay no mind to the Duke, Duchess,” she said. “He is a very busy man, and you are in the beautiful countryside where you shall find peace. I have prepared your chambers. I shall show you to them.”
