Page 30 of An Arranged Betrothal with a Contrite Duke
The valet nodded, backing up as though he meant to leave the study. But at the last minute, he paused, looking at his master curiously.
“Is everything all right?” he asked. “I was under the impression that yesterday went swimmingly, and that you were thrilled to be married.”
Michael sighed, refusing to look his faithful valet in the eye.
“It is an adjustment,” he said sullenly. “I will be fine.”
Lark nodded, his expression changing to one of understanding and sympathy.
“If you need anything, my lord duke…” he said, but Michael interrupted him.
“Thank you, Lark,” he said. “But I will be fine. You are dismissed.”
The valet stared for a long moment before bowing and exiting the room. Michael didn’t care at all for the tea and cakes on the tray. But with him keeping them in his study, at least for the time being, his mother wouldn’t be reminded of her efforts to send them to him. At least, not for the rest of the day.
He knew he had to do something to make things right with Lydia. But what? The weight of his guilt seemed almost unbearable, crushing down on him with every passing moment. There was no way he could bring himself to leave his study. And he knew that would likely not change for the rest of that day.
Perhaps, not for the entirety of our marriage, he thought with a dry chuckle.
He shook his head, trying to rid himself of his foolish, ridiculous behavior. He knew that he would need to speak to Lydia sooner or later and explain himself to her. But he didn’t even think he could tell her how oppressive the wedding ceremony had been for him. How could he expect to tell her why he had run away from her on their wedding night? And what of the night ahead? She would be expecting him to come to her then, as well. What could he possibly do now to get out of that situation without arousing suspicion on him?
Chapter Seventeen
The morning sun streamed through the windows, casting warm rays upon the dining table where Lydia, the new Duchess of Strawbridge, sat facing the Dowager Duchess. Lydia fidgeted with her napkin, trying her best to put on a brave face after the disastrous wedding night. The Dowager's gaze made Lydia feel uneasy, but she was determined not to let it show. The way her mother-in-law was looking at her, Lydia was sure that she must have known about what happened the night before.
She smiled at the dowager, who returned it with a small smile of her own. Lydia couldn’t determine if the tension in the air was real or perceived only by her. She thought she would go mad if her mother-in-law didn’t say something soon.
Desperate to break the silence, Lydia dipped her head at the dowager politely.
“Good morning, my lady,” she said. “I trust you slept well?”
The dowager’s smile widened a little and she nodded.
“Indeed, I did, dear,” the Dowager replied, her voice warmer than Lydia had been expecting. “Did Michael come downstairs with you?”
Horrified, Lydia regretted starting a conversation. On one hand, her mother-in-law clearly hadn’t spoken to Michael, and thus, had no idea that Lydia had failed him. On the other, however, now she had to think of something to say that didn’t sound as though her son was already displeased with his new wife.
“No,” she said truthfully. “He was already out of bed when I awoke.”
The dowager nodded, her expression unchanging.
“It is not unlike Michael to rise to get to work early,” she said. “He has always been a very dedicated businessman.”
Lydia once more felt relief, swallowing her worry and embarrassment with a sip of coffee. She was glad that the dowager didn’t know anything about their disastrous wedding night. But if she didn’t know where Michael was, then how could Lydia find him?
“Lord Strawbridge has chosen to take his breakfast in his study,” one of the maids, carrying a tray filled with eggs and toasted bread and fried ham pieces, mentioned. “Least, that’s what I understood.”
Lydia gave the maid a silent grateful smile. Now, she wouldn’t have to say anything that would make the dowager suspicious, and she could go to her husband after the meal. Her nerves were such that she had no appetite at all. But for the sake of having a pleasant, not suspicious meal with the dowager, she did her best to eat.
Lydia and her mother-in-law exchanged basic pleasantries throughout the meal, and Lydia tried to relax. She enjoyed her mother-in-law’s company, and it seemed that the dowager enjoyed hers. Still, as she was eating with her husband’s mother, she couldn’t help missing her own. Once Lydia had secured her marriage to Michael, her mother had reverted back to the loving woman she had always known.
After breakfast, Lydia excused herself from the table, curtseying politely to the dowager. She tried to tell herself that she would have an easy of a time speaking to Michael as she had speaking to his mother. He was, after all, a kind and reasonable man. Surely, he wouldn’t be too upset with her. He had never said an unkind word to her. And since the first days of their courtship, he had been nothing but warm to her.
Yet as she approached Michael's study, Lydia's heart pounded in her chest. She knew she had to apologize for falling asleep on their wedding night, but she was beginning to dread the possible consequences. What if this one thing did make him upset with her? What if he was so disappointed that he banished her from his sight and wouldn’t speak to her for the rest of the day? Or the rest of the week?
She gathered her courage and knocked gently on the door, hearing his muffled voice from within.
“Come in,” he said.”
