Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

A lexandra thought the carriage ride was torture.

Normally, she would use the time to relax and ponder about her music. Her fingers would be dancing over her dress, imagining her next performance at home. She would wonder how her next composition could become a masterpiece. Her thoughts would then wander into melancholy territory, reminding her of the impossibility of being recognized for her talent as a woman.

However, after the kiss, it was difficult to think of anything else. She clenched her fists on her lap as she tried to avoid her husband’s gaze.

Why was he looking at her like that? He had never done it before.

Before tonight, it was almost like she was a nuisance to him—someone he ought to forget. Yet, tonight, it was different.

She did not think he had it in him to focus on something at all. He was always busy—boxing, gambling, drinking, and dallying with women. Not the introspective man in front of her. Not the man who was looking at her as if she was the only woman in the world.

Alexandra hoped that he would stop acting like that. It had to be a game for him, and she had never been good at playing.

Talk to me. Ask me anything. I cannot stand the silence .

As if he could hear her thoughts, Oliver chose to keep silent throughout the rest of the ride.

He seemed to have been built to annoy, and he seemed deceptively content to study her face. Nobody had stared at her before. Not like this.

Her fingers began tapping on the skirt of her dress. The rhythm was forming, together with music in her head, enabling her to forget for a moment that she was in a carriage with an increasingly attentive husband.

“Tonight was enlightening, Duchess,” he said, finally breaking the silence.

Alexandra tried not to make her sigh of relief too obvious. It came in three short bursts—silent, she hoped. But from the way his gaze dropped to her chest, she realized that her sigh did not go unnoticed.

“Why is that?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“I did not know that you had such a passion for the opera,” he replied with a smirk as he sat straighter.

The way he emphasized the word ‘passion’ was not lost on Alexandra. She felt herself growing hot, despite the crisp evening.

“Your Grace,” was all she could say, but her voice held a warning.

“What? You don’t wish to comment on that?” he asked innocently, folding his arms across his chest.

Alexandra could not help remembering how broad it was. The image of him walking without a shirt on in the hall flashed in her mind. How could it be so vivid?

“Well, I love music. Of course I have a passion for something that features it.”

“I see. It seems we have now arrived home,” he said in a serious tone, but his lips twitched, betraying his mirth.

Alexandra could only silently fume at his smugness. She stomped down the carriage, blatantly refusing his help. She had not turned around to watch her husband, but she was certain she heard him chuckle.

“Let us go for a morning walk. You know, the kind that you like to go on when you disappear in the mornings.”

Oliver’s eyes were not fixed on his wife. He was reading a leather-bound book with a title that Alexandra had to squint to see. His voice was even, but there might have been a little taunt there.

“I do not disappear in the mornings. I go to the market to purchase, uh, things,” Alexandra explained, although she suspected that he no longer believed that story.

“Such things need not be purchased, but you still choose to do it. Today, we will simply enjoy the fresh air. Will you still bring your parasol with you?”

Again, he would tease her but not in a blatant way. It was there. Alexandra wondered how she had discovered facets of his character so early.

“No, Your Grace. I would rather walk out in the open. Unlike other women, I am not afraid of the sun,” she stated as she tilted her head up, looking him in the eye challengingly.

“I have no doubt you are different from other women,” he mumbled, as he inserted a piece of paper between the pages he seemed to have been reading.

He placed the book on the table, which separated the two of them in the drawing room. “So, will you go on a walk with me?”

“After ten o’clock?” Alexandra asked.

She did not really know when the ton liked to take their walks. She had been living in her own little world for so long, isolated by her father from the rest of the nobles.

“Yes. That is the proper time. With an escort or a companion, and not when there is barely any daylight. At which hour did you use to go out for a walk in the country?”

His voice held genuine interest, and Alexandra could not help but be intrigued by the prospect of getting to know this infuriating man.

“Pardon my reclusiveness, Your Grace. Perhaps I could have learned more if my father and my husband were both eager to introduce me to Society instead of conveniently hiding me away?”

“Do not pretend that you want to mingle with the ton , Duchess,” he said idly. “While you may be reading the scandal sheets, I still believe you do not truly care.”

Alexandra almost dropped the papers she was reading. Of course she was interested. Someone who spent the last year like a hermit would want to devour everything about Society. However, she did not appreciate him mentioning it too blatantly.

“Haven’t you seen me enjoy their company of late? Or do you think that is all mere pretense?” she asked, mildly annoyed, clutching the papers tightly in her hands.

“Oh, I have. I hope that I have not created a monster. Then again, you don’t want to put a parasol over your head.”

“Many women my age do not care about getting some sun.”

He just grunted noncommittally, watching her as if he was trying to understand her.

Or perhaps it was she who was watching him closely.

Despite her hesitation, Alexandra found the stroll pleasant. They walked along a gravel pathway while mist hung over the park.

She thought Oliver would take her to popular places like Kensington Gardens or Hyde Park. But no, he opted for a place that reminded her of the countryside. Rougher, less paved, and with more trees and shrubs.

The greenery cleared her head for a moment, but it could not completely rid her of the discomfort—and possible thrill—of walking alongside her husband.

She glanced at him. Oliver seemed at ease, with his hands clasped behind his back and his chin arrogantly tilted up.

What was he looking at? The sky? The birds?

When he lowered his chin, he looked like a master surveying his domain. Yet, she was not completely blind to the fact that he had been stealing glances at her, too.

He remained silent until they reached an uneven patch of ground. That was when he stepped forward and extended his arm with a slight bow. The movement was respectful and protective, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“Allow me, Duchess,” he urged, wiggling his fingers at her.

Alexandra’s eyes flickered to his face and his proffered arm. She was aware that it was expected for a husband to assist his wife in such cases. However, she was also intensely aware of the charged tension between them, despite Oliver’s humor.

She knew that it would be worse if she did not take his hand. For what reason would she have? She set her concerns aside and placed her hand on his arm, trying her best to ignore the tingles that raced up her arm.

It was a miracle that she was able to keep her calm, but her heart had its own ideas, racing in her chest.

Oliver seemed to have felt her inner turmoil because his face broke into a wide grin. “It wasn’t so hard, was it, Duchess?”

“No, Your Grace. Thank you for your assistance,” she said politely, almost smiling at his surprised expression—he had not expected her to be so agreeable. “However, I hope such ordinary matters won’t be a cause of your amusement.”

“I am sorry to disappoint you, wife, but sometimes a man must seek amusement where he can.” He laughed, even as he continued supporting her.

She noticed how easily he did so, his body strong enough to carry her own with one sweep of his arm.

“I will have to accept that my wife can be as hard as the stones I was trying to save her from tripping over.”

As soon as they were on steady ground, Alexandra pulled back her hand. This time, she tilted her chin further up as she walked without his support.

She wished she had brought more than a tiny reticule, which did not require much use of her hands. She turned it over in one hand, aware that her husband was watching her with some amusement.

“Your Grace, I am simply content with solitude. I do not have to express every thought and feeling in public.”

“You do realize that the next person is several yards away from us? We may be in public, but you are free to express yourself in front of your husband. Of course, I do wonder if you know what you’re missing.” Oliver gave her a sidelong glance. “I believe you would enjoy life better if you were more… spontaneous. Then again, you were spontaneous enough when you stormed into Devil’s Draw on your own, with nary a disguise.”

Alexandra wanted to tell him that she had a reputation to uphold, but that would be a lie. If she had to storm into Devil’s Draw again, she would with no thoughts of the consequences. She’d also meet with John Prescott again to sell more compositions.

Then, she remembered the fear she felt when she thought she would be found out outside an unmarried man’s lodgings, and without an escort.

Perhaps she should not be hasty…

“Weren’t we spontaneous enough when we both agreed to get married? It takes a lot of courage to marry someone you barely know,” she reminded him.

Two peas in a pod. Yet, they could not be any more different.

“We certainly have to explore our similarities, Duchess, especially since I had nothing much to complain about of late.”

Oliver gave her another of his arrogant, sidelong glances. Instead of annoying her, it made her heart pound so hard in her chest that she was afraid he could hear it.

Every sound. Every weakness. She had to be more careful and keep these noises inside of her.

There was also a flicker in his eyes that told her he was revealing more of himself than he would normally do. It was almost like vulnerability.

That thought excited her; she had to look away from him to gather her thoughts.

“Well, forgive me, Your Grace, for forcing you to be in my company. Having you join me for walks. Spending more time with me in the townhouse.” Alexandra tried to keep her tone light, despite the growing warmth in her chest. “It must be strange for you to find satisfaction beyond your usual company.”

“My usual company?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes. You know, gamblers, pugilists, and… ladies of the night.” Alexandra had to take a deep breath at the end, wondering if she had gone too far.

The look in his eyes was serious now. For a moment, she regretted what she said.

“Perhaps I have changed, wife.” Oliver tried to mask the seriousness with a chuckle, but it was too late—Alexandra had seen it.

“Most people can’t afford to change,” she said, trying to steel himself against the complicated man next to her.

Her words were more of a reminder to herself. She needed to remain as she was in his company.

Their walk was finally punctuated by a small grove of trees. The Duchess’s breath hitched as she saw the morning light filter through the canopy and cast a golden glow on the ground. The grove looked like it was surrounded by twinkling gems waiting to be picked.

It looked like a sliver of paradise, in the middle of London.

For a moment, the two simply stood there, taking in the glorious scene. The quiet was broken by the rustling of leaves. Oliver was quick to reach for Alexandra’s hand, gently stopping her in her tracks.

She cursed inwardly as she felt her pulse quicken at the sudden touch. Her reaction to him was becoming predictably painful. Heart racing. Eyes searching his.

She realized their faces were so close. His eyes seemed to be searching her face for some clues.

“Duchess,” he murmured, and his calm voice soothed her. “Why must you always guard yourself? It is just me.”

“Perhaps because I know that it is better to be guarded than to trust,” she whispered, surprising herself with her response.

For a moment, Oliver simply watched her. His hand was still clasping hers. Despite the feelings of discomfort and a sudden bout of shyness, Alexandra did not look away from him. She looked right back.

He sighed. Then, they continued their little stroll, which was the highlight of the morning, after all.

For some reason, the silence between them no longer seemed heavy. Though Alexandra still felt apprehensive, there was also a feeling of relief and an ease that she had not experienced before in his presence.

However, she clenched her free hand into a fist as she wondered whether he was slowly and effectively chipping away at her defenses.

Perhaps it was not too bad. Everyone needed a friend in this world. While she knew that she could live alone, her recent interactions with members of the ton had made her realize that she also needed company from time to time.

Their footsteps fell into a steady rhythm, hinting at the newfound ease between them. Oliver’s brief moment of earnestness was gone—that same mask he wore in front of most people these days. It seemed as if he was reverting to the more relaxed demeanor he had been known for, for years.

“So, what are your plans this week, Duchess?” he asked. “Would we be gracing the ton with our presence?”

“What about that ball that Lady Portsfield mentioned?”

Alexandra was truly curious about the event. She liked music, but she never had much opportunity to dance. She wanted to attend a ball even if it meant her husband would hold her close. The realization that she did not mind his company at all dawned on her.

“Aha. So, our Duchess is soon going to be the belle of the ball! Why, of course we will go. If that is what you want, wife.” He grinned at her, looking pleased for some reason.

Oliver did not seem to be the type of man who liked going to balls, but here he was, seemingly looking forward to attending one. Perhaps he was looking forward to teasing her.

“I am not planning to be the belle of the ball. That is for debutantes,” she protested.

“But you want to be there?” He sounded sincerely curious.

“Yes,” she admitted.

When they reached the end of the path, Oliver stopped again when he was slightly ahead of his wife. Then, he turned toward her.

“I believe that I’ve seen you at your most relaxed this morning, Duchess,” he said with a smile.

This time, his smile had no sign of teasing or arrogance. It was just a smile. A genuine one.

“Apparently, I am capable of change,” she returned, tilting her head as she looked back at him.

His grin grew wider when she raised an eyebrow. Then, he nodded in approval. “Perhaps we can do this again, then. These walks seem to be good for us.”

Us .

Oliver said “Us.”

The two stood there for a moment longer, seemingly eager to take in more of the nature surrounding them. Neither was willing to break the brief but satisfying connection.

Even when they arrived back home, Alexandra could feel a warmth spreading through her chest. There was hope there. Perhaps things would be different between them someday.

But how different?