Page 53 of A Bride for the Forbidden Duke
Heavens, he craved.
Veronica’s eyes flickered with uncertainty as he came closer, inches away from her lips, and then they closed, her head tilting upwards. Awaiting him.Wantinghim.
Only for a knock at the door to him jerk back from her, clarity setting in, and Mrs. Nelson standing in the doorway.
“What?” Henry snapped.
“Excuse me, Your Graces, but some of the furniture that the Duchess ordered has arrived. Mr. Worthington is waiting to be shown into the first room.”
“Wonderful!” Veronica said, jumping up. “We shall get started at once.” She looked at Henry, giving him a polite smile. “Have a good day, Your Grace.”
She curtsied and left the room, already talking animatedly with Mrs. Nelson about her plans.
Henry scoffed and buttered some toast before smearing jam over it and biting through it to keep himself busy.
His valet was right. The jam was very good. He sighed, wondering if Veronica had sampled it.
And then he growled to himself before pushing away from the table and stalking out.
“I do not care what she does,” he told himself.
There was a horse waiting for him at the entrance.
He bypassed Veronica without a second glance or word, and he was aware of her eyes on him as he swung himself up onto his horse and set off for the village.
Veronica watched the Duke tear off down the main entrance of Westley Manor, her heart thudding in her chest.
At least he had somewhat dined with her. She could be thankful for that, she supposed.
If only Evelina were here with her. At least then, Veronica could discuss her plans thoroughly withsomeonehelpful.
And yet, the Duke had listened. He had looked… pleasantly impressed at several points, she thought. As if he had truly shown an interest until she had triggered his response about his business. What was so wrong her with being involved in that? She understood the importance of privacy, but why was he so adamant she know nothing about him?
She refused to accept that.
“Mr. Worthington, the new settee shall be set up in the drawing room,” she instructed. Mrs. Nelson strolled beside her. “I wish I could invite my mama to see what I am doing with the manor, but His Grace made it very clear that guests are not welcome unless he has invited them directly.”
“That is true, unfortunately.” Mrs. Nelson nodded sadly. “His Grace is very particular about the company he keeps. He seesonly Lady Lindbury and Mr. Thomas Shawcross, and, of course, Mr. John Shawcross, his solicitor.”
“Lady Sheridan mentioned that he lost both parents quite young,” Veronica said delicately. “What do you think they were they like? I have heard the Duke’s father was…unkind.”
“I do not know a great deal, Your Grace,” she admitted. “The former Duke was His Grace’s uncle. His Grace was intended to become Viscount Kemble after his father until his uncle—the late Duke—and cousin perished at sea, and so the title was handed to His Grace.”
“I have wondered how he must have felt,” Veronica mused. “He had planned for one element of greatness, only to have this other title thrust upon him. I wonder if Westley Manor does not feel like home to him for those reasons. I can see he is content but not comfortable. He lives here out of duty and necessity.”
Mrs. Nelson nodded. “I think he enjoys the countryside most. That is why he endures the manor as it is.”
“Well,” Veronica said cheerfully. “That is precisely why I am making so many changes. This is a beautiful manor, and the Duke prefers his darker tastes, and although I prefer lighter shades and elegance, I wish to find a balance. He has told me to steer clear from his study, but I saw a glimpse of something positive in his eyes. He was happy I had gone through the trouble of obtaining his plans from Turner Hall. Do you think he shall be rather upset if I continue my plans?”
“Perhaps,” Mrs. Nelson said, winking. “But perhaps His Grace has a duchess who can challenge his command and match him.”
Veronica found she wanted to test the boundaries again of the Duke’s endurance of her lack of obedience.
Her wrists still recalled the harsh knot of his cravat, and her body remembered his hard presses to keep her pinned, the scrape of teeth on her skin, and the unforgiving delves of his tongue.
“Perhaps indeed.” Veronica smiled broadly as she went back inside the manor to instruct on furniture placement.
Chapter Sixteen
