Page 48 of A Bride for the Forbidden Duke
You must not have these thoughts! she mentally chastised herself, blaming the heat and the fainting for the wild fantasy.
She took another sip of water. Once again, his eyes followed the movement of her tongue swiping across her lips to wet them further.
“Thank you,” she said again.
This time, he only nodded before drawing himself up high on the chair. “I shall call for a maid to run a cool bath for you. If the heat is still affecting you, then it shall be good for you.”
“I am quite fine,” she said. “All I need is a moment to rest. Besides, I would think you do not care. As you said, this is a marriage in name only, and that you care for nothing.”
“Must we do this now?” he sighed. “The sun tired you out, and yet you still have energy to bicker with me.”
“I am merely stating a fact.” She sighed dramatically. “I would think a man who cares very little forbeingmy husband would not care either if I have a cool bath or rest in bed.”
“I carried you up here myself, did I not?” He leaned in, his gaze fixed on her so deeply she felt it through her body.
“Yes,” she whispered. “And undressed me to ensure I was cooling down. Another act of care.”
“A necessary task to ensure you were not more deadweight in my arms.”
“By your muscles, I would think a woman like myself is no issue with your strength.”
A muscle in his cheek fluttered. She fought back a smile, knowing she had gained the upper hand.
“Well then,” he muttered, standing up. “Perhaps I should have left you in the grass to bake beneath the sun. Next time, I shall remember your lack of gratitude.”
His voice had an edge to it so that she almost regretted accusing him of not caring. But when he was so hot and cold with her, what was she supposed to think?
“Fine,” she said hotly. “And when you come home to a bland garden and a drawing room that looks indeed like the inside of a circus tent, and I know you dislike it because to Turner Hall’s decoration,Ishall leave it and watch you despise it even as you are forced to live in it.”
Her words held more of a bite than she meant.
He shook his head before standing up. “I shall call for a maid,” he told her before striding out of her room. However, he paused at the threshold, looking back at her.
“I know I have said I do not care for anything, including you,” he said, his voice low, “but that does not mean I am heartless.”
Before Veronica could answer, he left her alone.
When a maid came to run her bath, Veronica wordlessly let herself be taken to the bathtub, her thoughts on the Duke.
How was this the same man who had pleasured her against a wall and had kissed her with such reckless abandon? If he so despised the world and everything in it, how did he kiss as though he cared deeply?
Perhaps that was why.
But Veronica would not delude herself into thinking thatshemight be the one thing he cared about. Lady Sheridan had said so herself: the Duke was tolerant of only a few people.
Veronica would be fortunate to have even that level of respect from him.
That evening, Veronica returned to the parlor which was coming along very nicely. She looked around at the curtains in their pale palettes, replacing the old, awful curtains, and she was happy with herself.
“Well, His Grace might not like it, but I certainly do,” she said to herself, happily. “And this is my home as well as his. He told me so himself.”
Reminding herself of that only led to her further recollection that the moment Robert was found, their marriage as they hadbegun it would be over, and they would live separately. At the time of their agreement, Veronica had wanted that but now…
She was enjoying her life at Westley Manor. She found that the thought of not seeing the Duke, even if he did avoid her and spoke harshly at times, was painful.
Veronica wrung her hands, distressed, as she paced the parlor. Outside the door, she heard a creak. She paused.
“Your Grace?” she called out.
