Page 42 of A Bride for the Forbidden Duke
“Lady Sheridan,” he answered, exasperated, “have you come to visit us, or have you come to check up on me?”
“Indulge an old lady, Henry,” she tutted.
It was very easy to see that his aunt simply cared a lot for him in a way Veronica suspected nobody else had.
“The affairs are in order,” he said firmly. “As I have said before.”
“I know, I know, I merely worry. You have spent so long alone in this empty manor. I want to make sure you are… keeping on top of things, given your new married status.”
“The Duchess is also taking her role very seriously,” he said, his gaze flickering to Veronica.
She sat further upright.
“All is handled.”
“And what of children?” Lady Sheridan asked.
The Duke set down his wine glass a little too hard. The glass clicked against the table with force, and he clenched his fist around the stem.
“Whatofchildren?”
“Well, you must have thought of your duty to provide an heir. It is part of your role, too. We must continue our great bloodlines.”
“I understand my duty,” he said. “And if there is news to report, it shall be reported.”
“Henry, if an aunt cannot fuss her nephew and rile him up about his responsibilities, then what can she do?”
His only answer was an eye roll, but Veronica was also curious to know his thoughts beyond duty. That was all anything was with him, it seemed.
“Lady Sheridan, you must share some stories about His Grace from his childhood,” she invited. “It is so very hard to picture him as a boy.”
“Oh! Indeed, I will!”
“Indeed, you will not.” The Duke’s voice cut through the dining hall, deathly threatening, but Lady Sheridan waved him off.
“Of course, your wife should know all your tales!” she said, giggling to herself. “Duchess, you would not believe, given how competent he is now, but when he was a boy, he was terrified of horses.”
“Lady Sheridan,” he warned with a hiss.
“The first time he rode one, it was a day I had dined with his mother at my own estate in London. His father did not watch over him as he should have, and his governess had venturedinside for refreshments for poor Henry, who tried to feed the horse an apple whileon its back!”
She laughed heartily.
“I do not know who was more spooked: the horse, trying to get the snack or the young Henry, being flung halfway off the horse’s back as the animal attempted to get the food! Of course, Henry did not know not to tease the poor thing. He had the apple aloft in his hand as he tried to ride it. The horse took off, distressed, of course, and his father was so preoccupied with… other matters that he did not hear Henry’s cries. The horse galloped around the paddock, and by the time his governess returned with a pitcher of lemonade, Henry was half slumped over his horse, passed out cold from fright! The horse, on the other hand, was happily munching on the apple.”
“Lady Sheridan that isenough.” The Duke’s voice was low, but his anger was evident as he set down his cutlery with a final warning.
He stared down at the tablecloth as if he could not bear to meet any of their gazes.
“That is enough.” His voice was quieter, colder, and filled Veronica with an icy chill.
Finally, he lifted his gaze. “I do not wish to hear any more of this nonsense. I am done with dinner tonight.”
His glare towards Lady Sheridan would have eviscerated Veronica had she been the recipient—until those glowering eyes turned on her, likely because she’d asked for a story in the first place, and she withered.
“Oh, Henry, it was more than twenty years ago,” Lady Sheridan said, trying to wave it off.
“It does not matter,” he told her, his voice hard.
