Page 29 of Her Beast of a Duke
“What you think is irrelevant,” Oscar muttered. “I do not recall inviting you into my marriage.”
“As your best friend, that is practically part of the deal,” Edmund smirked. “Besides, I feel some… responsibility to the Duchess. It was my party she was harassed at?—”
“Attackedat,” Oscar corrected. “But do not blame yourself. Peregrine made his own vile choices, and he has paid for them.Not nearly enough, though, for if I ever see him cross my path again…” He shook his head hard.
Edmund’s gaze was deliberate and steady, seeing through him in a way he didn’t care to enjoy. “Mm. Perhaps I was wrong about how you regard her.”
“She is my wife. I must protect her.”
“Yes, but you care about her, too.”
“I barely know her.”
“You mean to tell me that in all these days since your wedding, you two have not dined together and had a conversation? You do not know her favorite wine, or what she does indoors when it rains? You do not know what chocolate cheers her up on a terrible day, nor what dress she secretly hates wearing to balls?”
Oscar scowled. “No, and I do not need to know any of those things.”
“On the contrary, they are the things youdoneed to know.”
“I do notcareto know those things.”
“Oscar,” Edmund sighed. “What on earth have you been doing in that empty, rattling castle, if not getting to know your wife?” At Oscar’s silence, Edmund let out an even heavier sigh. “Ah, I see.You have been avoiding her. Why, Oscar? You clearly offered her your hand for a reason. You are lone?—”
“Donot,” Oscar warned, “suggest such a thing.”
Around them, some patrons quietened their own conversations, but Oscar had long mastered keeping his voice low. It was only a shame his friend couldn’t.
“I have spent enough time in solitude to endure the loneliness without issue,” Oscar added. “The Duchess will not change any of that.”
“But she could.”
Oscar’s scathing look said enough. He didn’t care what Isabella did or did not do. She didn’t have to affect his life if he didn’t want her to. He had his secrets and his closed doors. By keeping her at arm’s length, they both remained safe.
“You cannot keep pushing her away forever, Oscar,” Edmund warned. “You cannot imprison her in that dark castle without anything to do. You will drive the girl insane.”
“I do not intend…” He trailed off because Edmund was right, really.
That was exactly what he had intended.
Not quite imprisonment, but… he intended to keep her safe, within marriage. Safe from the ton’s wagging tongues, and only let them see her when it was absolutely necessary for their legacy. Above all, his intention was to keep to their own lives behind closed doors.
“What sort of life is this for your duchess?” Edmund pushed. “A husband who will not even have one dinner with her for the sake of company.”
“I do not need company.”
“It is not always about what you alone want or need. Sometimes, you can put your own pride aside and think of another soul.”
Oscar bristled at his friend’s berating, but swallowed back any further argument with a hard, long swig of brandy. He glared at the bard, who was attempting to get close enough to hear any gossip, likely to make some silly tune out of it.
His thoughts lingered on his wife, trying to recall anything about her loving the arts.
Would she love it here, in this tavern, where shows were performed, and poets created stanzas of flattery? Would she blush and laugh if one were created about her?
Hunching his shoulders, Oscar thought about his friend’s advice.
One dinner.
Perhaps he could consider a night to do that.
