Page 40 of An Arranged Betrothal with a Contrite Duke
Michael shook his head, waving his hand gently.
“Say no more, darling,” he said. “I shall see to it that we find another teacher or two. You ladies just decide what kind of event you would like to host here and when, and what you will need for it. I will take care of that, too, of course. I will do anything I can to help with this venture.”
Lydia threw her arms around him, which caught him off guard. He froze, fighting with his instinct to flee from her. But a moment later, he remembered that she was his wife. Her reputation wasn’t compromised, though what she had done wasn’t exactly ladylike. And some part of him enjoyed feeling her arms around him, even though he had been so reluctant to get close to her.
Lydia seemed to sense his tension, and she pulled away from him.
“Forgive me,” she said, her cheeks reddening. “That was impulsive and inappropriate of me. I am just so grateful to you, Michael.”
Michael reached for her hand and, even though he knew better, he kissed it gently.
“You did nothing wrong, my dear,” he said. “I am happy to see you so happy.”
Lydia beamed at him while the other two women gushed over the new development.
“What event should we host?” she asked, looking back at her friends.
The other women thought it over for a moment, considering their options.
“Perhaps we could host a fundraiser to cover the cost of the necessary supplies and furnishings,” said Lady Mary, her eyes twinkling with excitement.
Lydia clapped her hands together and nodded.
“That's a splendid idea,” Lydia said, her enthusiasm infectious. “And we could invite the prominent families of the area to attend. It would be an excellent opportunity to showcase the school and garner support.”
Michael felt a strange sensation in his chest—a mixture of pride and guilt. Lydia was growing more beautiful every day, and as she leaned forward, her curls catching the sunlight, he couldn't help but feel his heart quicken.
“I fully support the idea of a fundraiser, of course,” he said, without even thinking. “However, please know that any funds you need will be available to you from me. You need only ask.”
The ladies looked at him with astonishment, clearly not expecting this turn of events. Lydia's eyes, wide with surprise, met his, and for a moment, he thought he saw a glimmer of appreciation.
“Thank you, Michael," she said softly. "Your help is most appreciated.”
Michael bowed, smiling at his beautiful wife.
“It’s my pleasure, really,” he said. And much to his surprise, it truly was.
As the day passed and they continued discussing the school project, Michael found himself drawn to Lydia more and more. He desperately wanted to be a proper husband to her, to share in her joys and sorrows, to love and be loved. But the weight of his guilt held him back.
Later, after a long day of planning and organizing, they found themselves alone in the drawing-room, while they waited for the other women to dress for dinner.
“Lydia,” Michael began hesitantly. “I cannot tell you how much I admire your dedication to this school. You and your friends are truly inspiring.”
She blushed slightly at his praise.
“Thank you, Michael,” she said softly. “I must admit, I never thought we would be working together on such a project, but I am grateful for your help.”
Michael nodded, suddenly obsessed with the idea of cupping his wife’s face and kissing her. The urge to do so was overwhelming. There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted her. But how could he ever be worthy of any more than what they had when he spent his every waking moment remembering how he had tricked her into marrying him?
Chapter Twenty-two
Lydia walked slowly along the garden path, her thoughts as tangled as the ivy that draped the walls of the Strawbridge estate. Though her heart swelled with affection for Michael, their union was far from perfect. A cloud of uncertainty loomed over their marriage, casting a shadow on the bliss that should have come with being a newlywed. She had been so hopeful, after their courtship, that they could easily love each other. But now, she could barely read her new husband. And knowing how he felt about her was completely impossible.
Their shared bedroom remained a source of unease. Though they had been married for weeks, the two rarely shared the same bed. Lydia knew that in order to produce an heir, they needed to be closer, both physically and emotionally. While Michael did not seem repulsed by her, she sensed an unspoken barrier that prevented them from truly becoming one. He clearly enjoyed seeing her happy. But he didn’t seem to be connecting with her on any meaningful level. Was it shyness or something more? And if it was the latter, was it her fault?
She thought again about their wedding night. Michael hadn’t mentioned it once since she had apologized to him. And yet she supposed it was possible that he harbored some kind of resentment towards her for falling asleep. She didn’t think that was like him, as he seemed to have no trouble speaking his mind.
But then again, she had worked her hardest to not give him any further reason to be angry with her. And since that apology, he had done nothing but agree with and consent to anything she said. It was becoming just as frustrating to deal with the difficulty with reading him as it would have been to try to get a hermit husband to warm up to her.
