Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

“ Y our Grace?” The coachman turned to the couple as they settled into the carriage seats.

“Yes, we can depart now,” Hector instructed.

The coachman started the carriage with a whip crack, and the horses lurched forward, their hooves clopping gently through the darkness of the cobblestone street.

Juliet adjusted herself in the plush seat of the carriage, the strong scent of polished leather and cedar wood surrounding her. Hector sat opposite her, his expression unreadable, his posture rigid.

Silence descended as the ride began. Juliet’s mind was filled with unexpressed thoughts and emotions. The gentle sway of the carriage only seemed to amplify the tension. Hector’s gaze was fixed out the window, his jaw set in a hard line.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, Juliet finally spoke.

“Your Grace,” she began.

“Hector will do just fine. You are my wife now.”

Juliet could feel the rush of blood in her cheeks. She didn’t understand why something so simple as referring to him by name made her feel tingles all over her body.

He turned to face her, his expression still impassive.

“This marriage,” he said slowly, “is one of convenience. There will be no expectations of love or affection. We will fulfill our duties, but beyond that, we will live our lives separately. You will live in my house, share my name, and enjoy all the luxuries of being a duchess, but do not expect more than that from me. I shall mind my business, and you will mind yours.”

Juliet didn’t blink. She had expected that arrangement, but the cold indifference with which his words were spoken made her cautious.

If he is incapable of enduring a single day with me before setting down his rules and expectations, then why did he bother going through with the marriage at all?

“And why did you choose me, husband? Out of all the eligible women, why me?”

Hector’s eyes darkened, and he leaned closer. Her eyes widened, and the paleness of her cheeks made him smile. He moved away slightly before she choked with embarrassment.

“As I told you the day we met, I do not owe you an explanation, Juliet. But if you must know, it is a matter of duty. There are…reasons far beyond what you can see.”

Juliet’s heart raced at his closeness; the intensity of his gaze and his ferocious masculinity were heady and overwhelming. His muscles flexed and bulged in his arm as he held onto the frame of the carriage window. She wanted to push him for more, to try to understand this man she had married, but something in his eyes warned her against pushing the questions she had etched into her mind.

“Duty,” she repeated softly although she couldn’t remove the sadness accompanying her statement. “Is that all I am to you?”

Hector leaned back. “For now, yes. Duty and obligation. Do not expect more from me and I will not demand anything from you.”

“How noble.” She turned away from him, filling her sight with the passing scenery instead.

Juliet supposed this was her life now, permanently yoked to a man who wanted nothing from her and demanded that void be respected and reciprocated.

Hector broke the silence with a grunt. The conversation had taken a turn he had not expected. He meant to tell his wife not to feel unduly overburdened by her new duties. She didn’t want the marriage, and neither did he.

“If you follow my rules, you will quickly see it will be easier for everyone.”

“Why did you choose me then?” Juliet asked again, her voice steady despite her racing heart.

She assumed that if he desperately didn’t want anything to do with her, then her questionable past had to be the reason for his rejection. “I’m obviously a scandalous pick. Why hurt your reputation like that?”

Hector’s gaze was cold. “Stop making me repeat myself; I don’t care about my reputation. I have dealt enough damage to it myself.”

Juliet leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. “So, I was an incidental choice?”

Hector’s jaw tightened. “I am done with your questions.”

Her frustration bubbled over.

“My whole life has been turned upside down because of you. The least you could do is tell me why!”

He leaned in, his face inches from hers. “You talk back a lot for a girl who used to live in a nunnery.”

“Maybe that’s because I’ve learned to fend for myself,” Juliet shot back, not backing down.

Her husband’s eyes flickered with something she couldn’t quite pinpoint. Amusement? Respect? She wasn’t sure.

“Is that so?” he murmured, his voice softer, almost teasing.

Their faces were so close now that Juliet could feel his breath on her skin.

“If you’ve truly learned to fend for yourself,” he growled softly, his eyes burning with intensity as he closed the distance between them, “then you’ll know to stay away from me.”

“And why is that?”

“Because an innocent lady like you couldn’t handle me, Duchess.”

“What if I’m not as innocent as you think?” she retorted.

For a moment, the tension between them grew into something else entirely. Hector’s eyes dropped to her lips, and Juliet’s pulse quickened as he stared at her mouth. It was as if the air around them had thickened, charged with an attraction neither could deny.

As their faces drew closer, the carriage suddenly stopped, jerking them apart.

The coachman’s voice came from outside, “My apologies, Your Graces.”

Juliet exhaled sharply and righted herself, trying to steady her rapidly pounding heart. Hector pulled back into his own seat, his expression once again a mask of indifference.

“Careful, Lance.”

“I am sorry, Your Grace. Some young boys were playing on the path.” The coachman pushed forward.

The rest of the journey passed in strained silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

Juliet stared out the window, her mind wandering. She had expected that their marriage circumstances would be the only confusing thing about the situation, but Hector’s mannerisms left her feeling all the more confused and slighted.

He had been warm during their reception, almost caring. Yet his words now felt as though she had imagined everything that had come before.

Juliet could see the giant structure ahead as they approached Hector’s countryside estate. It was grand and well-maintained, nothing like the falling-apart convent walls she had known for so long.

The coachman slowed the horses and brought the carriage to a stop.

“Welcome to Islington,” Hector said, helping her out.

Without another word, he turned around and walked inside.

Juliet scoffed. “Not even a proper introduction to his staff.”

An extensive line of staff scurried towards the carriage. They lined up in an orderly manner and awaited her approach with welcoming expressions on their faces.

An elderly man and a woman stepped forward with matching kind smiles.

“Your Grace, I am Peter Worthington, the butler of this estate,” the man greeted with a bow.

“Welcome to Islington Hall, Your Grace. It is a pleasure to have you here. I am Mrs. Estella Harris, the housekeeper of this lovely home. I am at your service for whatever you might need.”

Juliet smiled, relieved that they had appeared to acquaint her with the rest of the household.

“It is lovely to meet you, Mrs. Harris.”

Estella beamed joyfully and stepped back, so Peter could introduce the rest of the staff. They greeted her warmly and led Juliet inside. A fire was already burning in the fireplace, giving the room a soft glow. She was led into a spacious room down the hall that was beautifully decorated with rich fabrics and elegant furniture. Juliet shuddered and rubbed her arm.

“Are you cold, Your Grace? Do you need me to heat the room a bit more?” asked Estella.

“No., thank you” Juliet declined.

The chill in her blood had nothing to do with the room and everything to do with the frosty demeanor radiating from her husband.

“If you need anything, do not hesitate to ring for me or any staff member. We are at your service.”

Juliet nodded. “And my husband? Where is he?”

“You mean his room?” She raised her brows. “It adjoins yours, as is tradition, Madam.”

“Thank you,” she said. Her husband seemed to have planned it all out in advance. “That will be all.”

Estella walked out, and the door shut gently behind her.

Juliet stood alone in the room, the reality of her new life setting in.

She walked to the window and looked out at the night sky. The stars twinkled delicately like distant promises. She felt both fear and hope as she wondered what the future held for her here. Despite the emptiness of their arrangement, she would try to make the place as appealing as possible.

She thought back to the convent, her friends, and the nuns at St. Catherine’s. She wondered how Sonya and the others were faring.

Were they warm? Did they have enough to eat? Had Mary finally left to become a governess?

The worries she had left behind intermingled with the many uncertainties that shrouded her future.

Hector stood at the top of the stairs and gave a curt nod of acknowledgement to his butler and housekeeper before turning away. He retreated to his study, the only haven where he could momentarily escape the commotion of his new life.

In the comforting quietness of the study, Hector sat behind his mahogany desk and shifted his attention to the stack of ledgers and financial documents that were piled before him. The dim light from the desk lamp reflected shadows across the room, adding a soft ambience.

Though he had capable hands managing his affairs, Hector preferred to personally oversee the final details of his accounts for the season. His focus was intense as he meticulously checked the figures, ensuring everything was in order.

Despite concentrating on the finances, he occasionally paused as his thoughts drifted to Juliet. He wondered whether she was going to settle easily into her new life. He was certain it would take a while for her to become accustomed to it, but he was interested in seeing how she managed.

Hours passed as he buried himself in his work. The gentle ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner was the only sound that accompanied his scribbles and calculations. When the butler’s gentle knock interrupted the quiet, Hector looked up, startled to see how late it had become.

“Your Grace,” the butler said, peeking into the study, “dinner is served.”

Hector glanced at the clock, noting the late hour. He had completely lost track of time.

“Tell my wife not to wait for my arrival before she has her meal. I’ll likely be unable to join her,” he replied, his tone distracted as he returned to his ledgers.

The following day, Juliet woke up to a gentle knock on her door.

The sun was just beginning to rise, and the golden glow streamed invitingly through the window and lit up her room. Juliet pushed herself up into a sitting position and responded with a yawn.

“Come in, please.”

“Good morning, Your Grace,” Leila greeted, walking into the room.

Juliet stifled another yawn as she blinked blearily at her maid, sleepily watching her move about the room and prepare things for Juliet’s day.

She chose two dresses from the wardrobe and held them out for Juliet to choose which one she wanted to wear.

“I like that one,” she said and pointed to the yellow silk.

“All right, Your Grace,” Leila curtsied. “I shall prepare your bath.”

Juliet had her bath, and Leila helped her get dressed. Together, they went downstairs, hoping to explore the grounds before the household awoke.

In the garden, she took long, deep breaths. The air was fresh, and the flowers were just beginning to bloom. As she wandered along the paths, her thoughts drifted to Hector. His stern demeanor in the carriage and the intense way he’d looked at her were confusing. There was something more to him, something he was not sharing. Juliet would have to find out what that was.

Lost in thought, Juliet didn’t hear the approaching footsteps until she saw Leila passing her.

“Your Grace,” the maid curtsied.

“Oh, I am sorry, Leila. I was being a bit absent-minded.”

“That is all right, Your Grace. No need to apologize to me. How are you settling in?”

Juliet turned, offering a small smile. “I think I’m managing well enough for now.”

Leila smiled warmly. “Well, I’m glad to hear that as I am also trying to fit in. The staff here can be rather rigid although the butler is cool-headed.”

Juliet laughed softly. “I hope they aren’t too much of a problem for you.”

Leila shook her head and laughed. “It won’t be once I have learned their ways and where my place is in the fray.”

“Well, let me know if there is any way I can help,” Juliet offered although she was confident Leila was capable of managing the situation herself.

Leila looked like someone who knew what to do, whatever the circumstances. She exuded an air of confidence and capability uncommon among household staff.

“Thank you, Your Grace. I appreciate it.”

From the corner of her eye, Juliet noticed a movement at the front door. It was still early, and she was dressed in nothing more than a simple morning gown thrown over her robe, and her hair had been hastily arranged.

Turning to Leila, who was adjusting her dress, she said softly, “We should get in before the household wakes up. I’d rather not be seen like this.”

Leila nodded with a gentle smile. “Of course, Your Grace. After you.”

Juliet’s thoughts were clouded by the previous evening’s events as they went into the house through the back door and headed hurriedly to her room.

The grandeur of the wedding had felt like a parade rather than a celebration, and Hector’s absence during her evening meal had only intensified her sense of isolation.

As though he had been summoned by her thoughts, Juliet spotted her husband standing by the front door of their home, speaking with the butler. Moments later, the coachman joined them, and Hector involved the man in a quiet conversation.

She slowed her pace, watching Hector with curiosity and discomfort. He handed over a leather bag to his coachman and discussed what sounded like matters of a financial nature. He seemed engrossed in his business, his posture commanding as he spoke to the coachman.

His manner was efficient but as detached as he had been since they’d stepped into his home and had declined to eat with her.

Leila noticed Juliet’s distraction and gently touched her arm. “Is everything all right, Your Grace?”

Juliet nodded though her heart was heavy. “Yes…yes.”

They continued down the back corridor, the early morning stillness amplifying the sound of their footsteps.

Juliet’s thoughts were a swirl of worry and frustration. It was silly for her to avoid crossing paths with her husband, but if he wanted that, so be it.

Leila opened the door for her and then stepped aside. “Shall I fetch anything for you?”

Juliet shook her head, a weary smile on her lips. “No, thank you. I believe I just need some time alone.”

Leila nodded and took her leave, letting Juliet sit with her thoughts.

She sighed as she recalled the disappointment that had followed her wedding to the Duke. She was incapable of believing she was to blame for having expected more.

Although she had not let herself dream of anything more than a peaceful and amicable marriage, a part of her had dared to hope for at least a hint of affection.

With a frown she dropped into a settee, only to rise back to her feet because Hector had chosen that very moment to walk into the drawing room.

“Oh,” he said, noticing her. “I did not expect to see you here.”

Juliet gestured helplessly at the room. “I was simply…resting.”

Hector nodded. “I see.”

There was a slight pause then he nodded again. “Well, enjoy your rest.”

He turned around to leave, and something akin to horror and frustration flashed through Juliet.

“Is this truly what our marriage is meant to be like? Are we going to avoid each other for the rest of our lives and simply play pretend forever?” she asked.

Hector frowned as he turned to face her once more.

“I have already voiced my expectations. I do not know what you were taught in that nunnery, but I thought understanding would have been one of them.”

Juliet walked closer to him, outraged.

“For someone who offered me a comfortable life, you seem quite taken aback that I am unwilling to abide solely by your terms.”

Hector’s expression darkened.

“At the very least, I had imagined that you would be more respectful.”

“I did not ask for this!” Juliet snapped. “I didn’t ask to be married, but I was forced to, and I refuse to spend the rest of my married life walking on eggshells under the pretense that you are merely a stranger to whom I owe my comfort.”

Hector grimaced, and Juliet wanted to reach out and hold his face in her hands, so he would hear every word she was saying.

“I am not asking for the world, Your Grace,” she said softly, feeling oddly drained, “but could we not simply try to make this marriage thrive instead of simply survive?”

“You do not know what you are asking of me, Juliet,” he replied, as his gaze lowered to her lips for a brief moment.

They were so close to one another, near enough for Juliet to become slightly intoxicated by his manly musk. She could almost feel the warmth of his body and wished that she could touch him.

“Enlighten me then,” she muttered, her eyes unable to keep themselves from wandering down to his own stubborn mouth.

For a moment, Hector appeared conflicted. He then stepped back and cleared the space they had been sharing.

“You do not know what you are asking of me. I advise you to never suggest such a thing again,” Hector warned as he turned and walked out of the sitting room.