Page 22 of Her Duke By Accident
Alicia brushed off her skirts from the long carriage ride. “I am looking forward to finally meeting Lucy,” she said.
“That meeting will have to wait,” Matthew replied.
“Why?”
“Lucy made arrangements to stay at the townhouse in Mayfair for the rest of the week,” he explained.
Alicia stared at his head, waiting for him to meet her gaze. “And why is that?”
Without looking at her, Matthew spoke with a stern voice. “For our honeymoon.”
Oh.Heat rose quickly up her neck, swallowing her cheeks. She looked away, unable to stop the blush from covering every inch of exposed skin. Grasping for her fan, her shaky hands fumbled, and the accessory clattered to the ground. Frozen in place, Alicia wished to turn back time andnotmake a fool out of herself in front of the man she’d be spending the rest of her life with.
Matthew chuckled, bending over to retrieve her fan. He placed it in her hands, his tall figure blocking out the sun. “Let me introduce you to some of the servants, Your Grace.”
The duke led her up a few steps, but Alicia felt as though she watched from above, still stunned at his nonchalant comment. Her heart slammed against her chest at the thought of being alone in Garvey Manor alongside him, with his face masked so well she could not even guess the emotion he felt.
“Ms. Crawford,” he said as he gestured towards a middle-aged woman with hair pulled back into a tight bun, “our housekeeper.” Matthew turned to an older gentlemen beside the housekeeper, who stood tall with lips pulled down in a permanent frown. “And Mr. Livingston, the butler.” Matthew took Alicia’s hand and presented her to them. “This is Alicia Baxton, Duchess of Garvey.”
The titleduchesslodged in Alicia’s throat. She struggled to swallow it.
Giving a curt bow, Alicia managed to croak out, “how do you do?”
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Grace,” Ms. Crawford said with a scratchy voice.
Mr. Livingston bowed his head. “Please do not hesitate to approach us for assistance, Your Grace.”
Alicia was too stunned at being called ‘Your Grace’ to respond in any coherent way. She merely nodded, her hand loose and weak against the duke’s. With a wave from Matthew, the housekeeper and butler made their way into the estate, leaving the newlywed pair standing upon the manor’s threshold.
Matthew gently led her through the doors. “Do not fret about the honeymoon,” he finally said. “I will not touch you.”
With them standing alone in the foyer of the estate, Alicia dejectedly equipped her fan, covering the flush that had overtaken her face. A tightness grew in her chest, but there was no way for her to tell if it was out of disappointment or relief. There was such an overabundance of everything by this point that Alicia knew not which way to turn.
She blinked a few times. “What–what were their names again?” she asked in a hushed whisper.
“Whose?”
“The housekeeper’s,” Alicia replied. “And butler’s.”
He raised a brow. “Were you not listening?”
“It–it slipped my mind,” she lied.
“Ms. Crawford,” he told her, with a laugh. “And Mr. Livingston. Try to remember this time.”
Alicia nodded, using her fan as it felt as though she struggled to breathe.
Matthew watched her intensely. “This will not be a regular marriage.”
“I understand.”
“This is an act of convenience,” he continued, as if he was trying to convince a child of something they wouldn’t understand. “And it will be treated as such.”
“Yes,” she muttered, trying not to be offended, “Your Grace.”
“I have no plan to produce heirs.”
Alicia felt her eyes go wide. She covered herself with the fan, but nothing could cover how her chest rose and fell at such a speedy rate. Owen’s eagerness for her to have children that could solidify their union came rushing back to her. Perhaps he had only teased, but Alicia suddenly felt as if there was nothing she could do to fulfill her responsibility as a daughter.
