Page 64 of The Beastly Duke's Christmas Bride
Shaking her head, Isabel fumbled with her music papers. “I told you, it’s all right. Pearl is an energetic kitten but she’ll tire herself out soon, I’m sure. I’ll manage her better in the future. Here we are. Would you still like to listen?”
“Yes, of course.”
Isabel nodded after double-checking her hand placement, then proceeded to play the song with her body and soul. Sebastian found himself holding Pearl still, listening to the tune. His eyes followed his wife’s hand movements and the way she weaved her body along with the journey, easing them through a story of hope and majesty.
It was a beautiful song that had Sebastian longing for more than he had ever dared to hope. Tears itched, threatening to fall.
Everything felt like a mistake. What he did, who he was, he felt like a stranger in his own skin and was desperate to find where he belonged. What he needed. To find who could help him. A lump formed in his throat as the song ended and Isabel turned his way.
“I clearly have some practice to do,” she admitted before cautiously asking him, “Did you like it?”
Sebastian mustered a stiff nod. “It was beautiful.”
“Thank you––”
“I should go. I have a bath being prepared,” he added suddenly and then dropped Pearl in her lap. “I should have remembered… Good night.”
Isabel clumsily caught her cat who tried to escape. Loud mewling whined as he turned his back on them for the door. “Sebastian? What about supper?”
“I’m not hungry. Eat without me.” He paused at the door. “Happy Christmas, Isabel.” And then he left, unable to face her for another moment while feeling a stranger to himself.
CHAPTER 23
“While I appreciate your offer of assistance, I should be all right and returned before supper,” Sebastian told Isabel two mornings later after he yet again refused her.
Yesterday on Boxing Day, she had offered to help start a fire and manage their meals with the servants having their day off. But he had refused, inviting her to relax while he busied himself.
The man always found a way to be busy.
It’s like all he wants to do. This wouldn’t be so awful if he wouldn’t keep coming so close like… like he is tempting me. Mocking me.
She glanced down under the table to find Pearl playing with his boots. The cat might sleep with her at night, but she seemed to prefer her husband more than anyone else. Frustration started to well up, so she pushed it back down.
“I only wish to help and it’s not as though the household needs me. They can function by themselves like they have when we aren’t here,” she pointed out. “Can’t you let me try to be useful?”
His brooding expression softened into something… uncomfortable. Sebastian’s gaze lowered and he fumbled with his lower lip for a minute before sharing an awkward shrug. “It’s not that we––well, it isn’t––I suppose it isn’t… You’ll need to dress warm. It’s cold. And wear secure boots. It will be muddy and slippery.”
He was letting her go.
“Of course! I can do that.” Breakfast forgotten, she rose to her feet. “I’ll dress now. Shall we leave in twenty minutes?”
“Sure. I am sure the farmers will appreciate the additional help locating their lambs,” Sebastian added after a moment after collecting Pearl into his hands. He came around the table to deliver the cat to her.
“Animals sure like you. Are you sure you didn’t grow up with pets?” She asked with attempted cheer.
But the smile faded when Sebastian frowned. “I never had the opportunity. My childhood in London didn’t exactly allow for them.”
Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to remember the details she knew about her husband. They were more rumorsthan anything else, or so she preferred to believe. There was a hard look in his eyes, however, that made Isabel wonder how much might actually be true.
“Right,” she drew out slowly. “My apologies. I will… I’ll return to the main hall soon.”
Sebastian nodded without meeting her gaze. “Very good.”
The moment Isabel was out of the dining room, she raced down the hall with Pearl digging her tiny claws into her dress. Mewling, Pearl couldn’t imagine what this opportunity meant. Isabel murmured under her breath while she hastily changed into her plainest and easiest clothing to manage on her own, not wanting to waste time waiting for Amber.
“Behave yourself, my sweet,” Isabel instructed her kitten, leaving her nestled in the blankets and already exhausted, before hurrying out of her room hardly fifteen minutes later.
She hurried down the hall but stopped at the corner to take a deep breath. Straightening her skirts, she fixed her gloves and pulled out the functional and warm bonnet from her pocket. Nothing was forgotten. She would help the Lightfoot family who had lost several of their sheep in the last two days due to a broken fence. She was ready to talk, to walk, and to prove to Sebastian that she was a duchess and wife equal to him.
