Page 34 of An Accidental Bride for the Duke
Philip froze at the doorway, his body turned stiff. Back still facing her, she could picture the anger written clear across his visage. That image alone had her heart beating because she knew where it would lead.
Another fight. Only one with a happy ending because the one thing these last few days had been missing was the same passion that had started this brief journey of them getting to know one another. Maybe that’s what was really troubling Philip? A release that they both needed desperately.
She watched her husband’s back, excitement taking over. Wanting him to turn and snap at her and do to her what he had the last time. Perhaps more than that. Pushing the punishment further. Only…
Philip exhaled, shook his head, and then stormed away.
Iris sat frozen, staring stupidly at where Philip had just been standing, not understanding for a second what on earth had just happened. That they had fought was not as strange or random as it might have seemed. But that it had ended in this way was as unexpected as the moon rising in the middle of the day.
And once again, I am forced to realize how little I know or understand of my husband…
Iris did not stay for supper, as her appetite too had left her. Rather, she returned to her room, still confused and unsure of what to do. Good sense told her to leave it and try again in the morning. But she didn’t think that was nearly so simple to do, just as she knew she would not be able to sleep leaving things this way.
For that reason, she found herself outside of Philip’s bedroom door five minutes later. She could see the light of a fire flickering between the cracks. A deep breath to calm herself, not wanting this to lead to a fight, and she knocked softly on the door.
“Philip,” she spoke into the door. “Might I come in?”
There was no answer.
She frowned and knocked again. “Philip, please, I think we need to talk.”
Again, there was no answer. This time, she tested the door handle but found the door to be locked. “Philip,” she tried a third and final time. “We need to talk.”
And still, he ignored her.
Iris wasn’t going to beg. She wasn’t going to force the issue. So, Philip didn’t want to speak to her, then she didn’t want to speak to him. She turned and strode down the hall, leaving him be, a part of her furious with how he had behaved, another part anxious with worry.
Mostly, she felt like an utter fool. Three days of pleasantness and she had convinced herself that all was well and things would continue to improve. That the worst was behind her and it would be good times from now on. But as she was coming to learn, marriage was nowhere near that simple.
And considering who it was that she was married to, she had the sense that things were likely to get worse and more confusing, before they got better.
Chapter Twelve
When Iris woke the following morning, Philip was already gone.
She was surprised by this at first, as he had told her already that he would be home today and she’d expected them to spend it together. But after what had happened the previous evening…
Clearly, he wants to avoid me. And even more clearly, he doesn’t wish to tell me why.
They were back to square one, or so it felt to her. The little progress made and in one fell swoop it was washed away. This hurt more than it should have done, because Iris had always been a romantic at heart and this had given her cause to want the best and ignore the horrid start of their marriage.
In a desperate bid to try and make herself feel better, Iris focused on the reality of what she had always known. Of what she had originally wanted. From day one she had told herself that nohappiness would be found in this marriage, and she had even convinced herself that she was fine with this. It was time she accepted such things and moved on.
So it was that a plan for the day was conceived…
“Your Grace!” Mr. Tibbitt called out as he chased after her. “Where are you going!”
She was out the front door and striding down the drive. “To the village, Mr. Tibbitt,” she told him. “But I expect to be back shortly.”
“But, Your Grace!” he hurried after her, puffing heavily because he was not in good shape. “His Grace explicitly said?—”
“I don’t care what he said,” she shot over her shoulder. “He doesn’t care about me, why should I care about him.”
“But, Your Grace?—”
“I will be home shortly,” she called without stopping.
Iris found herself smiling as she powered down the road, her mind set on reaching the village and what she meant to do. It was sure to upset the duke. Likely, it would anger him greatly. But that, she decided, was a risk she needed to take.
