Page 24 of Duke of Myste
“Of course you do,” Jane scoffed, unable to keep the bitterness from her tone. “Obedience, doubtless. Silence when convenient. A proper display of ducal dignity at all times. How am I doing so far, Your Grace?”
“Respect,” Richard countered, the word emerging with unexpected force. “Not blind obedience, but a mutual respect that will allow us to navigate this… arrangement with as little conflict as possible.”
Jane blinked, caught off guard by his departure from what she had anticipated. “Respect?” she echoed, testing the word.
“Yes,” he confirmed, his expression softening fractionally. “I do not expect you to change your nature entirely, Jane. That would be both unreasonable and, I suspect, impossible.”
The use of her Christian name struck her with surprising impact. In his mouth, the single syllable carried a weight that made her pulse flutter.
“Whatdoyou expect, then?” she asked, genuine curiosity replacing some of her defensive anger.
Richard’s gaze remained steady on her. “Discretion. Consideration for the position you now hold. And a willingness to find common ground where possible.”
“And in return?” Jane pressed, unwilling to accept his terms without clarification.
A flicker of surprise crossed his features.
“In return,” he said slowly, “I offer the same. Respect for your… independence of mind—within reasonable bounds, of course.”
“Reasonable bounds,” Jane repeated, a hint of her usual sharpness returning. “And who determines what is reasonable, Your Grace?”
“We both do,” he replied, surprising her once more. “This is a partnership, Jane, however unconventionally it began. I am not seeking to crush your spirit. Surely you know that.”
The carriage turned onto a smoother stretch of road, silence settling between them again. Outside, the rain continued to fall, blurring the landscape beyond the windows.
“I have no idea how to be a duchess,” Jane confessed finally. “I have never been particularly adept at conforming to norms.”
Something that might have almost been a smile tugged briefly at the corners of Richard’s mouth. “I am aware,” he said dryly. “Your reputation preceded you, even before our… encounter at the masquerade ball.”
Jane felt heat rise to her cheeks. “I did not intend…” she began, then stopped, unsure how to continue.
“I know,” Richard replied, surprising her with his simple acceptance. “Protecting your sister was… admirable, if somewhat reckless.”
The pragmatism in his tone was both reassuring and oddly disappointing. Jane found herself wishing, irrationally, for some indication that he might someday see her as more than just an obligation.
“I should warn you,” she said, “I am likely to disappoint you.”
This time, the smile that curved Richard’s lips was unmistakable. “I am not seeking mindless agreement, Jane. That would be… tedious.” He paused, studying her intently. “What I require is consideration—that you think before you speak in certain company, that you recognize there are times when discretion serves better than immediate honesty.”
“And when would those times be?”
“I will teach you,” he offered, the words carrying neither condescension nor command. “Just as I hope you will… enlighten me when my expectations prove unreasonable.”
The carriage slowed as they entered London.
“We will be arriving shortly,” Richard announced, straightening his already pristine cravat. “The staff will be assembled to greet you. It would be… appreciated if we could present a united front.”
Jane nodded, understanding the unspoken request. Whatever disagreements might exist between them, the outside world must only ever see the Duke and Duchess of Myste as a harmonious unit.
“I shall endeavor to be appropriately duchessy,” she promised, the faint attempt at humor surprising even herself.
The ghost of a smile touched Richard’s lips again. “Duchessy,” he repeated, the word sounding strangely endearing in his deep voice. “I believe this is the first time that particular adjective has been applied to the position.”
“I excel at innovation, Your Grace,” Jane quipped. “It is one of the many qualities that Society finds so alarming in a woman.”
“Richard,” he said unexpectedly, his gaze intent on her face. “When we are alone, at least, you should call me Richard. The title sounds too formal between husband and wife.”
The simple request touched Jane more deeply than she cared to admit. “Richard,” she repeated softly, testing out his name. “And you will call me Jane? NotDuchess?” She gritted her teeth slightly. “OrLady Jane?”
