Page 14 of A Rescue by the Rakish Duke
He knew that he thought himself a hero during the heat of the moment, but he had begun questioning the wisdom of his decision. He could have just brought her home and kept her safe. What was the business of marrying her?
He could still see the horror and disdain on Montrose’s face.
God, he had done everything to spite the man.
But now…
Montrose didn’t give a damn about Gwendoline. He was more interested in the money and deals she could bring in.
Damian had always prided himself on the restraint and control he had in every aspect of his life. Society thought they knew him,labeled him a rake, but he had always kept the world at arm’s length.
However, there was something about Gwendoline. Her eyes were often probing. She was so curious about everything, asking him questions other people had never dared to ask. Her candor was disarming, but damn him if he had to admit that to her.
Somehow, his new wife had been trying her best to respect their agreement. No romantic ties. No friendship. They were just two people who were tied by a legally binding document, living in one house. Nothing else.
Why should he bother with her at all?
Gwendoline adjusting quickly to her new role as Duchess of Greyvale should be one last thing to worry about. She had managed to convincingly carve a place for herself in his sprawling estate.
It was fascinating that she showed how angry and confused she was, fighting for her right to freedom and independence. Then, when she was married and deposited in Greyvale, she quieted down.
Damian’s chest tightened at the thought, that perhaps he had snuffed out the fight in her.
He discovered that she had solicited the help of the steward, Mr. Seaton, in understanding the day-to-day running of the estate.
The poor man was at first hesitant to explain the operations, but she was persistent. It was probably a mix of genuine interest and boredom on her part.
Was she trying to prove something?
“What are the crops we will be using this season? How about the next?” she asked, sounding sincere.
The small study Damian assigned to her seemed to be in good use. The door remained open as appropriate, and he tried to be as stealthy with his eavesdropping.
He shouldn’t be there. He should be away from this woman, who had somehow taken over his home. But something held him back.
“Were there any tenant disputes so far? Or over the past few years?” Her voice had become more confident after each afternoon she had Seaton tutoring her.
Seaton’s responses were always too soft for Damian to hear from the outside. He liked to mumble. However, she seemed to be content with their meetings. She would make the rounds, talking to servants and finding out how things went.
Damian was an observant man. He saw how his servants’ gazes would follow his new duchess. They talked about her—in a positive manner, apparently. Some smiled openly at her, while they barely offered him—their master—a twitch of the lips.
“Y-You’re Andrew, aren’t you? And you, you’re Martha,” Gwendoline said triumphantly.
She had been learning their names by heart, almost like a child getting ready to be tested at school.
“Yes, Your Grace,” the servants would say, each giving her a beaming smile and a bow.
“Mrs. Albright, you certainly did a wonderful job maintaining this grand property.”
She was not afraid to gush, just like any guest would when they had first visited Greyvale.
“Of course, Your Grace,” Mrs. Albright responded with a smug smile and a chin tilted to the skies. “A grand place such as Greyvale deserves all the love it can get.”
“What would be needed to maintain an old property like Greyvale?” Gwendoline asked, making Damian’s ears perk up.
Old? Was that what she thought when she saw Greyvale?
He was so focused on her voice that he didn’t hear the response that she received, and somehow, he didn’t care. All he wanted to hear was her melodic voice, kind and calm when he wasn’t involved. He chuckled at that thought.
