Page 20 of An Arranged Betrothal with a Contrite Duke
“Father is very fond of old reading material,” she said. “He doesn’t have a specific favourite regarding culture when it comes to his books and pages. However, he is quite fluent in Latin, so he tends to gravitate toward reading material written in such.”
Michael nodded, willing his heart to reset. Her smile had brightened up her face in a way that made it skip for a moment. He cleared his throat, reluctantly looking back to the books.
“I do believe this is one of the loveliest bookshelves I've ever seen,” she said, her fingers brushing over the delicate, shiny wood.
He couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm, feeling himself becoming slowly mesmerized with her voice, face, and the way her eyes sparkled as she spoke.
“Indeed, it is quite a work of art,” he replied, his gaze lingering on her delicate hands.
It was a strange sensation, to find himself so taken with a woman he barely knew. Lady Lydia was charming, certainly, but Michael had never experienced such a strong attraction before.
As they moved on to examine other pieces of art, he found himself laughing at her witty comments and enjoying her company more than he cared to admit. And her neat little figure added to just how appealing he found her. He was wholly unfamiliar with viewing women in such a way. And now, he was looking at the woman he was to marry as though she was her own work of art.
To think that Lady Lydia will soon be my wife, he thought to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. He had dreaded the notion of marriage when he first arrived. Michael and Lady Lydia had been thrown together due to very different circumstances but their families believed they would make a perfect match. Michael was a wealthy man, and Lady Lydia came from an influential family with a sizable dowry, which included his coveted vase. But now, it didn’t seem so bad at all.
There was a moment of silence between them, and then Lady Lydia turned to face him. They were standing very close, and Michael could feel the heat emanating from her body. He could smell her perfume, a heady mix of lavender and rose. She looked like she had meant to say something to him. But her mouth slowly closed, all but the tiniest part in her lips. And she stared right back up at him with her bright eyes and pinkening cheeks.
For a moment, he was lost in her eyes. It was like being caught in a tide, helpless to control what was happening to him, and yet not wanting to. He had no idea how long they stared at one another in such a way. Then, he felt himself leaning forward as if to kiss her. But just as he was about to close the distance between them, he pulled back. His emotions felt like they were in a cyclone, and he couldn’t cope with them. All he knew was that he needed to stop before he made a mistake he couldn’t take back. Feelings were not supposed to be part of his arranged marriage. He had to put a stop to whatever was happening.
Lady Lydia looked at him quizzically, and Michael quickly regained his composure.
“I beg your pardon, Lady Lydia,” he said, his voice formal once again. “I was momentarily distracted. Forgive me for being rude. Please, continue with your tour.”
Lady Lydia gave him a small smile, but Michael could sense that something had shifted between them. He had hurt her feelings and confused her, and it brought him considerable guilt. But why? He could not explain the sudden attraction he felt towards her, and it frightened him. He couldn't understand these feelings, couldn't fathom why this woman he had only just met was having such an effect on him.
Panicking, he quickly re-established his distance and focused his attention back on the art, trying to push the strange emotions aside. It was going to be a long engagement, he realized, if he couldn’t come to terms with his newfound attraction to Lady Lydia.
Lady Lydia looked at him a moment longer, and it was all Michael could do to not look away from her in shame. At last, however, she gave a nod of her head.
“Very well,” she said. “Let us move on, then.”
Michael nodded, gesturing for her to continue leading the way. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, however. He knew then that the tour needed to hurry up and end. He had to get away from his bride as soon as he could.
Chapter Eleven
Lydia was thoroughly enjoying herself as she led the duke around the house. She knew she had promised to show him her father’s private collection room, but she couldn’t bring herself to take him straight there. She found him very charming and witty, as well as knowledgeable as she gave him the tour. She decided that his earlier reticence had been due to shyness. He was nothing like the distant, curt man she had been told to expect.
She had been embarrassed, of course, when she accidentally touched the duke’s face. She had been terrified that she had hurt him, even though she was wearing glove. Immediately after asking him if he was all right, she had remembered that she was wearing gloves. That realization had made her even more embarrassed than initially touching him had. She had been sure she had ruined the good atmosphere between them, and she dreaded how he would react.
Surprisingly, however, he had been very kind to her. He hadn’t even pointed out that she was wearing gloves, and thus, couldn’t have hurt him. And he had become even more enthusiastic about the tour, not less so, as she had feared. Each time she looked into his piercing blue eyes, she had to suppress a shiver. They lit up like a chandelier when he laughed, and that brought her great delight. No, she decided that she would do anything to keep from reaching the end of the tour too quickly. She was infatuated with making him smile and laugh. Which he now did often.
She even found it hard to not lean on him, as a woman in love might do with her partner. Not only was his laugh charming and his face intensely handsome, but he smelled of ambergris and lavender. The combination was heavenly to Lydia, and she couldn’t get enough of it. She was starting to wish that she had put more effort in her own scent and appearance. But how could she have known how well the evening would end up going?
In fact, as she led him around, she was finding it hard to keep her focus on the tour. She wanted to just keep asking him questions, just to hear him speak, and listen to all the fascinating things he had to say about his own perspectives on historical events and his adventures on his Grand Tour. She had hoped to coax him into opening up a little. She just hadn’t had any idea how much he would open up to her.
Best of all, he seemed to be enjoying spending time with her, as well. She noticed that he paid attention as she pointed out paintings and sculptures and figures, and he was actively engaging in conversation with her. He didn’t seem to have any aversion to her intellect, as she had feared he might. It seemed to bring him delight to speak to her about things other than social events and dancing.
She almost stopped in her tracks when she realized that the thought of marrying no longer seemed so terrible. In fact, she found the idea now enticing. They had a great deal in common, as Hester had told her they might. And they spent time together easily, and with many smiles. No, the idea of marrying the duke of Strawbridge was no longer awful. To Lydia’s surprise, she was beginning to feel as though she was very lucky.
When they entered the billiards room, Lydia pointed out the Egyptian display. That was when, in her distracted mind, had accidentally touched his face. It was also when she started realizing that she could stare into his eyes for hours. She couldn’t help hoping that she would get the chance once they were married.
She felt foolish when he had asked her what the scroll on the wall behind the items had said. She cursed herself because she knew that her father had told her. But she had been so embarrassed by practically slapping the duke in the cheek that she couldn’t recall what he had said. She made a mental note to ask him again, or to use her father’s books to find out herself. She wanted to ensure that she told the duke the proper words on the scroll.
On the way to the library, Lydia realized that they would soon be coming to the end of the tour. She tried to push that thought aside. After all, she would soon have the rest of her life to spend with the duke. But still, she couldn’t help slowing her pace as she led him to the library, and she hoped that he would find something in there that caught his attention and gave her some extra time in his company that evening.
He instantly took notice of the bookshelf containing all the old texts and pieces of parchment that her father collected so proudly. She was happy to explain her father’s love for collecting books and loose-leaf pages and, to her surprise, the duke seemed to be happy to hear about it. She had learned that, while the duke enjoyed reading, he also preferred to collect pottery and sculptures, as opposed to books and manuscripts. But he still seemed very interested in her father’s love for those items.
She turned to lead him toward the other side of the room, where a couple of small sculptures were, she believed, sure to get his attention. But as she turned toward him, he also turned toward her. She looked up at him, staring into his sparkling blue eyes, which were suddenly intense and filled with something that she didn’t recognize. Something that completely matched the miserable and standoffish demeanor with which he had eaten dinner. She couldn’t identify it exactly. All she knew was that it made her heart race nearly out of her chest, and made her breath catch in her throat.
