Page 110 of His Duchess of Scandal
“We asked you what the matter is,” Sibyl pushed gently. “You are not yourself. You have not really been yourself ever since your wedding.”
That is because I spent so long denying my feelings, and yet now that I have acknowledged them, I have been rejected by my husband.
But she could not burden them with that. Least of all, she could not frighten them either, not when their own marriages would be planned and schemed.
She glanced over at Isabella, who looked hungry for gossip.
“Nothing,” she answered. “Nothing is the matter. I am simply tired, but that does not make me any less happy to have been reunited with you.”
Alicia snorted. “Do not offend me by thinking I will believe such a thing.”
“I agree,” Isabella sighed. “I miss you, of course, but notthismuch where I would give up my Duke to come and spend days with you.”
“Mama says you are here for a few days,” Sibyl cut in. “Why is that?”
“Because I wish to focus on family.” Hermia tried not to snap. Instead, she kept her voice tight but calm, the way she had when the girls did something wrong as children, but they didn’t quite understand what had happened.
That was a time when Hermia was still learning how to mother them.
The thought only made her miss Phoebe more.
“I am fine,” she said again. “Please do not worry about me.”
Isabella scoffed, but Alicia took her hand in a rare moment of affection.
“I beg you to remember,” she spoke, “thatyouare the Duchess. Not Mama, not His Grace.You. You have made your own headway in this role, and you are excelling at it. I am most proud of you, Sister, so whatever it is that is on your mind, despite your protests, I am certain you can share it, whoever it may concern.”
She gave her a long look that said she would grant Hermia the wish of not theorizing aloud, but she knew. She knew, and that was enough.
Hermia squeezed her hand back and widened her smile. Her heart hurt, but she could not let her sisters see too much of that.
“Come, we must discuss Lady Hatterly’s garden party. I have heard many suitors will be present, and I must chaperone you all, so you make excellent decisions about your future husbands.”
“I do not care for this topic,” Alicia sighed, rising from her chair with a groan. “Do call me when you ladies can think of anything but men.”
And that broke through her heartache just a little, but Hermia still found herself wondering. When Charles consumed everywaking and sleeping thought, what could she dobutthink of him?
Charles had spent the last week pacing. What had only meant to be a handful of days—at least, he had both hoped and assumed it would only be a handful of days—had turned into a full week of Hermia’s absence.
He had spiraled, had spent too many hours doing absolutely nothing, had avoided the very thought of her name. He had tried to throw himself into work, but after reading several contracts, finding the words blurring and nothing sinking into his head, he had abandoned those, too.
His studio remained locked and unused. Every time he faced a canvas, it remained blank. He just couldn’t do it.
He had meant it when he told Hermia that she was his muse. Now that she was gone, he lacked inspiration.
Hisheartlacked it, unable to stop hearing himself telling her those ugly, horrible things.
“Tell me I am not wrong, that there has been something between us this whole time.”
Why had he not said anything? Why had he not told her that she was right, there had been something between them? That hewanted her, that helovedher, and that loving her terrified him. How could he love her when it caused so much distraction?
He looked up when his study door opened, and stifled a groan upon seeing Levi standing in the doorway.
There was too much disappointment on Levi’s face for him to stomach looking for more than two seconds. He had already told him about Hermia’s absence.
“When did you last sleep?”
Levi’s first question was unexpected, and Charles frowned. “That is your first concern?”
