Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

A soft whimper escaped Juliet’s lips and startled Hector back to his senses. He abruptly ended their passionate kiss, stepped backwards, and pulled himself away from her.

Juliet stared at him, breathless and flushed. Hector found himself battling his desire to claim her and taste her once more and feel the delicious shivers that coursed across her dewy skin, but he steeled himself to resist the temptation, knowing that the consequences were far too dire to risk going further.

“Hector …”

“I must take my leave,” he muttered gruffly as he brushed past her and returned to the house.

Regardless of how fiercely his body yearned for her, Hector did not look back.

“Good morning, Your Grace,” Estella greeted Juliet as she entered the grand foyer of Islington Hall. Her tone was respectful, yet her voice had an unmistakable air of authority.

“Good morning, Mrs. Harris,” Juliet replied with a smile. “I was hoping you could show me around today and help me understand my duties. I would like to meet everyone at their posts.”

While she honestly believed that this was in crucial step if she was ever to become the true Duchess of Islington, Juliet’s motives were more self-centered.

Ever since Hector’s kiss, she had been unable to think of much else.

She could hardly remember what they had argued about, what had been said before he put his hands on her. Their closeness had made her breathless, and his kiss had caused her heart to beat into oblivion. It frustrated her to no end how brief that moment had been and how quickly he had left her afterwards.

Juliet believed that Hector was amused by playing with her emotions, but she was not going to play his game.

“Of course, Your Grace,” the housekeeper said, her eyes twinkling with approval. “We shall begin with the house staff. It is important that you know who handles each of the duties in this household.”

As they walked through the sprawling corridors, Juliet noticed the staff going about their duties, each person contributing to the smooth running of the household. They curtsied as she walked past and went about their chores. Estella led them to the kitchen where the cook was preparing breakfast.

“Your Grace,” the cook curtsied, “I hope everything is to your liking.”

“Yes, thank you,” Juliet replied. She found the warmth of the kitchen and the delicious smells very comforting.

“This is Mitchell, and she creates all the meals for you and His Grace.” Estella entered the room and proudly announced, “These are the maids she works with. You will have no problem hosting events here. We do not even need to hire extra hands.”

Next, they moved to the library, a large room filled with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Juliet’s eyes lit up as she took in the sight.

“You will find a great collection here, Your Grace,” Estella noted. “The late Duchess was quite fond of reading.”

Juliet nodded, feeling suddenly homesick. She remembered how her mother used to bring her to the city to buy books and how those moments had been some of the happiest of her childhood. “Is there a reading corner?”

“Yes, over here,” Estella walked towards a small door.

Juliet checked out the cozy room which was furnished with a leather chair and table. “This is lovely.”

“Lady Lydia loved this corner. She would spend endless hours in here attached to a book. She missed many meals because she was so engrossed by the words between the pages,” Estella sighed with a slight smile.

Juliet could perfectly imagine her dear friend curled up on the chair, feet tucked beneath her with her eyes fixed on the pages beneath her fingers.

“Can I have a moment here? Just a few minutes, and we shall resume our tour thereafter,” Juliet requested gently.

Estella nodded. “Of course, Your Grace. Take as much time as you need.”

The housekeeper left moments later, and Juliet settled into the chair, tracing the signs of wear along the leather with her fingertips as she inhaled deeply.

For what felt like the first time since she’d set foot in Islington Hall, she allowed herself to deeply miss her dear friend, and she prayed that Lydia had found a peaceful rest.

By the time that dinner was announced, Juliet had become quite exhausted.

She had met and spoken with every single staff member on the estate. While she was hopeful that she had made a good impression, she did no longer felt as confident as she had been earlier in the day about taking on the duties of Duchess.

She hoped someone would guide her through the process, but the only person available for that task was Hector, who seemed content to play mind games and leave her to fend for herself.

“Your Grace?”

“Hmm?” Juliet blinked, sitting up straight.

Estella glanced at the table set in front of the Duchess before she asked, “I wondered if there was anything else you needed?”

Juliet replied, “Ah… no, thank you.”

The housekeeper bowed slightly and said, “As you wish. I trust you find tonight’s meal to your liking.”

Juliet nodded her thanks and settled at the head of the table, feeling the weight of the empty chair across from her.

Hector had not joined for dinner since their arrival at Islington Hall, and tonight seemed no different. She sighed heavily and picked up her fork.

As she was about to take her first bite, she heard footsteps and watched as Hector strolled into the dining room. His presence filled the space, and Juliet was awed at how he dominated the room without uttering a word.

“Good evening, wife,” he said genially, taking his seat.

Juliet exhaled, willing the heat in her cheeks to go away. She couldn’t help but notice how the candlelight cast a warm glow and softened his rugged, chiseled features, making him seem less austere than usual.

“Good evening.”

They ate in silence for a few moments, apart from the clinking of silverware against porcelain. Juliet could no longer stand the tension she felt and decided to break the silence.

“I hope you had a good day?” he asked.

Juliet put down her cutlery. “I suppose I had a good day wandering around by myself and dining alone.”

“Can we not get through this meal without arguing?” Hector grunted, raising his eyes to the ceiling.

Juliet fumed. “We do not manage to resolve any of our issues as they arise, yet you expect to be greeted with a clean slate each time we meet?”

“No, but I expect some semblance of peace,” Hector pointed out.

“It is ironic that you should bring that up, considering that you and my father connived to steal the little bit of peace that I had,” Juliet snapped.

She didn’t wish to argue, but Hector had a way of confusing her immensely. While he tried to insist that their marriage be free of issues, he had completely ignored what had transpired between them in the garden.

“What is this talk about stolen peace? From what I have read and been told, your life in the nunnery was horrible. I saved you,” Hector scoffed, his expression incredulous.

“I do not remember asking for a savior. Did I?”

Hector reached for the napkin and dabbed at his mouth. “If this is what I get at my dining table, then I had better stay away in the future.”

“Like you have since I was forced to be here,” Juliet scoffed. “That would have saved us both from having to deal with all of the issues you so vehemently dislike.” Disgusted, Juliet pushed back her seat to leave.

Hector growled, “Do not dare leave this table.”

Juliet paused mid-air, her ire and defiance increasing by the second. She searched in her mind for a single reason why she should stay as he’d commanded but found none. Hector’s cold stare held hers.

“Watch me,” she spat and pushed away her chair.

Hector grabbed her hand, his expression so dark that Juliet believed she had pushed him too far.

“Let me go,” she said in a shaky voice. “Hector?”

“You should never leave your husband at the dining table,” he muttered. “I apologize for pulling you. Did I hurt you?”

“I was left at the table to dine alone,” Juliet huffed as she folded her arms across her chest, “but I didn’t pull down the roof in anger. You are behaving like a petulant child because your wife, who you do not care about, wished to excuse herself from the table.”

Juliet’s rant had knocked the air from her lungs and left her breathless. She angrily reached for the cup of water, drank its contents in one long gulp, and dropped the cup onto the table with a loud thud.

Hector was silent for an exceptionally long time, but his gaze never left Juliet. When he eventually spoke, his voice was tinged with softness. “You are nothing like the wife I had expected.”

“I clearly recall that you were keenly aware of who I was when you met with my father and made arrangements for our marriage.”

He shook his head as the corners of his lips curled upwards. ‘Still, not the woman I’d bargained for.”

For some reason, his amusement lightened her mood.

Juliet took a deep breath and tried to unwind her tense body. “Why do you persist in telling me that? I am sure you knew the challenges you were up against when you picked me as your bride.”

“I expected a woman raised in the nunnery to be…obedient, demure.”

“And innocent, I suppose,” Juliet scoffed. He stared at her blankly, and she realized that he was serious. “In that case, you possessed a misconceived notion of who I was, and now, you see who I truly am. I will not be silenced and play the fool when my life is suddenly turned upside down. I am not that sort of woman.”

Hector’s gaze slid over her. “No, that you are not.” He pushed back from the table. “Nonetheless, you shouldn’t be toying with me.”

“Giving a grown woman such a stern command is akin to asking for the opposite, Your Grace,” Juliet retorted, also rising from her chair.

Hector’s expression softened, and for an instant, Juliet thought he intended to reach out to her, but as he stood up, his quiet, stubborn demeanor reappeared. “We’ll see,” he said quietly.

Juliet nodded as her cloudburst of anger dissipated, and their stormy exchange concluded.

As they left the table, Hector surprised her and offered her his arm. She accepted it and felt a strange sense of familiarity altogether different from their intimate moment in the gardens. This time, although she sensed some distance, they walked amicably to the drawing room where a fire crackled warmly in the hearth.

“This looks different,” Hector commented, noticing slight changes. The plush white settee that was positioned against the wall had been moved to the center of the room. A small table and two welcoming chairs were positioned across from it.

“Yes, I asked Mrs. Harris to rearrange the room in a more fitting manner, so we could meet with guests, friends and other visitors,” Juliet explained.

“I suppose you are now intent on changing the entire look of my home,” he sighed. Hector led them to the settee and helped her to settle into it. “We cannot yet entertain guests other than close friends. You already met most of my friends at the wedding. Only my good friend, Jonathan Whitlock, have you yet to meet.”

“The Duke of Silverbrook is your friend?” asked Juliet in surprise.

She had heard a lot about the Duke from Lydia while they were young. Ciara also learned of the Duke and had eventually married him. According to local rumor, he had been a rake, notorious for chasing after everything in a skirt. Lydia had admitted in her letters that she had been attracted to her brother’s friend for a long time, but in her later letters, she had put down her feelings to a girlish infatuation.

“He is my friend; why do you ask? You seem quite surprised,” said Hector as he settled in the seat beside her.

“I am, but only slightly,” Juliet replied, quickly stopping herself from saying anything rude about the man. “I know his wife, Ciara. She resided in the nunnery with me, and we had become good friends. It is simply quite a coincidence that both of us married dukes who have a close relationship with one another.”

Hector nodded in mild astonishment. “You are right. The odds of Jonathan and I being married at all were slim, but the chances of us marrying women from the same convent? Even smaller. How intriguing.”

That was certainly one way to put it, but that aspect was the least of Juliet’s focus.

Her mind circled back to their carriage ride on their wedding night. Hector had said he also had a damaged reputation. She now wondered if he’d said that because he was also living a rakish lifestyle.

They sat in companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The crackling of the fire was the only sound in the room. Juliet glanced at Hector, trying to read the emotions hidden behind his stoic facade.

“I was saying we don’t need to host anyone just yet,” Hector said, breaking the silence.

“I agree, Your…Hector.”

She felt very distracted and nearly missed Hector’s next statement.

“Do it only when you are ready. I don’t desire any unnecessary friendship with the neighbors, and I don’t want anyone dropping their unruly children off at my house.”

Julia was startled. “Do you have anything against children?”

She hoped he wasn’t some strange individual who thought children were a burden. She wanted a few of her own, even though she had no idea how she would accomplish that.

“I don’t mind children,” Hector corrected. “What I don’t want are childish adults—parents who look for any opportunity to pawn their offspring off on innocent neighbors, so they can seize their chance to hurt the very person who gave their children life…” He choked as he clenched his fists by his side.

Juliet sat in stunned silence as Hector breathed life into his initial request.

To whom was he referring? He has buried something very painful and close to him from his past experiences, the outlines of which I have unexpectedly caught a glimpse.

“Are you referring to the fathers or the mothers of these poor children?” Juliet inquired as she wondered what her curiosity would uncover.

“There are good and bad parents of all sorts, but the fathers carry the balance of ill intent when it comes to the children and their mothers,” Hector mumbled.

Juliet paused as a vague comprehension ensued and asked, “Why was your friend not at the wedding?” to steer their conversation in a different direction.

“Jonathan? He’s in Ireland with his wife right now. I don’t think we’ll be seeing him anytime soon because from what I’ve heard, he is still rather smitten by his new bride, and he is not yet ready to share her with the world.” Hector waved a hand in the air nonchalantly.

“Why do you speak of it as though it is a dreadful thing? If…if he really loves her, he would want to spend as much time with her as possible,” Juliet snorted with a roll of her eyes.

Hector raised an eyebrow and inched closer. “Is that what you would prefer? A husband who is attached to you like a leech and fawns over you?”

Juliet blinked as her cheeks flushed in response. She tried to move back but found herself cornered as he reached for her face, his fingers curling around her chin.

“There are many ways to spend as much time as possible with someone. Many much, much more pleasurable ways,” he whispered with a smirk.

And then, he kissed her.

His mouth was hot against hers, moving slowly, coaxing her to lower her guard as his fingers gently cradled her jaw like a priceless piece of art.

Juliet felt herself melt into his touch and hungered to press him closer, to inhale more of his manly aroma and feel the heat of his skin beneath her fingers.

However, amidst her deep desires, she recalled how he’d ignored her after their first kiss. Panic coursed through her veins and caused her to pull away from his embrace.

“Are you all right?” Hector questioned, reaching for her again, but he startled when she quickly darted to her feet.

“No. I’m all right. But…I…I think I shall now retire to my room for the evening,” Juliet hastily replied.

Without a backward glance, she gathered up the skirts of her gown and hurried out of the drawing room.

Once outside, she shouted, “Leila, help me out of this dress.”

“Goodnight, Juliet,” Hector called after her, but Juliet had disappeared.