Page 66 of Goldrage
I force my gaze down before it can linger. One glance at those green eyes might unravel everything. My chest tightens with the effort of not looking, not reaching across this mahogany expanse to touch her hand.
“I like the forbidden love,” Bianca continues, oblivious or perhaps willfully ignorant of the tension coilingaround us. “How the duke has to maintain appearances while his heart belongs to someone deemed inappropriate by society.” Her lashes flutter at me and some of my meal threatens to come back up my throat.
My jaw clenches. How ironic, though I doubt Bianca possesses enough awareness to craft such pointed commentary intentionally.
Julian’s knife cuts through his salmon. The blade screeches against the plate, making Lady Harrow flinch. He doesn’t apologize. Doesn’t even seem to notice. These dinners are his creation—his attempt at a happy family—yet he contributes nothing but brooding silence.
“More water, hubby?” Bianca reaches for the crystal pitcher before I can decline. “You need to stay hydrated. This water has electrolytes. I had the kitchen staff add them specially for you. Good for recovery.”
I frown. Guess that explains why she’s hoarded that pitcher all night and hasn’t let anyone else touch it.
The liquid fills my glass despite my lack of response. I drink to avoid conversation, though my stomach already feels heavy from the rich meal. Salmon in cream sauce, roasted vegetables drowning in butter, potatoes whipped with enough dairy to clog arteries. Every bite sits like lead in my gut.
I’m feeling quite sluggish and tired.
Lady Harrow hasn’t touched her wine tonight. Unusual. Her fingers drum against the stem of her empty glass while her gaze darts between Julian and me.
What might you be plotting?
“The heroine’s friend in my book reminds me of someone,” Bianca muses, cutting her fish intosquares. “Red hair, fiery temperament, tendency to challenge authority...”
Aurelia’s fork stills mid-air. Just for a heartbeat. Then she continues eating as if Bianca hadn’t spoken. But I catch the slight tremor in her hand, the way her shoulders draw tight.
She looks ready to strangle Bianca. For whatever reason, Bianca has been using the term “hubby” quite excessively this evening.
My chest burns with the need to defend Aurelia, to shut down whatever game Bianca thinks she’s playing. Instead, I reach for my water glass and drain it in long swallows.
“Fascinating,” Lady Harrow says, her first word of the evening. The single syllable drips with disdain that Bianca either misses or chooses to ignore.
“Isn’t it? I just love how the duke struggles between duty and desire. Family obligations versus true love. Very relatable.”
Julian’s head snaps up. His eyes find mine across the table, dark and unreadable.
And what mightyoube plotting, brother?
The moment passes. He returns to his meal without acknowledgment.
Bianca refills my glass again. “Drink up. Doctor’s orders.”
I frown. Not my doctor. Not any doctor, actually. Just Bianca’s perpetual need to fuss and hover and insert herself where she isn’t wanted. I don’t touch the glass because my stomach feels ready to burst.
“The book club meets Wednesdays,” she continues,apparently immune to the collective disinterest. “It’s online, but I’ve been thinking of finding an in-person group. I could host it here. Wouldn’t that be cool? We could use the blue parlor and?—”
“No,” Julian says.
Bianca’s face falls as she cowers from Julian’s firm tone. “Oh. Of course. Okay.” Finally, she falls silent.
My body grows heavier, exhaustion seeping into my bones. My rehabilitation exercises from this afternoon must’ve drained me more than I thought.
“You look tired, hubby.” Bianca’s hand hovers near my arm.
“I’m fine.”
“Still, you should rest. Healing requires proper sleep. I read an article about the importance of sleep cycles in recovery. Apparently, the body does most of its repair work during deep sleep phases?—”
“Then I should retire,” I say. I really can’t stand to listen to more of her chatter, so I’ll take this opportunity to escape.
I push back from the table, movements careful to hide the way the room tilts slightly. Too much rich food. Too much water. Too much of Bianca’s suffocating presence.
