Chapter 11

"Did you sleep well?" Thomas tried to keep his voice even as he gazed at his new wife across the dining table. "Are your chambers to your liking?"

Catherine stopped eating, placing down her knife and fork and looking at him warily. She was a tad paler than usual, but she looked as beautiful as ever in a simple white muslin morning gown, her brown hair swept into a loose chignon at the nape of her neck.

It was only a day after their wedding. The day after their wedding night. A wedding night that had left Thomas teeming with frustration because she hadn't let him touch her at all. After grappling with his intense desire, he respected her wishes. Only an oaf would try to force a woman when she had patently said no.

"They are very lovely," she replied with a slight smile. "Very grand, indeed. Although it shall take me a little while to get used to them, of course."

"Of course," he said, inclining his head politely and picking up his cup of tea. "And the bed? Was the mattress comfortable?"

Catherine shot him a wary look. "The mattress was sufficient, thank you."

"Because we can change the mattress if you want," he continued in a conversational tone before taking a sip of his tea. "There are close to twenty rooms in this house. It would be a simple matter of exchanging mattresses."

She raised her eyebrows. He noticed her cheeks had turned pink.

"You see," he said, smiling brightly at her, "some people prefer a hard mattress. Some like it soft." His eyes lingered on her face. "I prefer mine as hard as I can manage."

Catherine almost choked on her tea. She set down her teacup. Her entire face was pink now.

"Why are you so concerned with the quality of my mattress?" she asked in a tart voice, her green eyes flashing. "Do you think me so delicate that I might bruise from a misplaced feather? Or are you just hoping for an invitation to test it out yourself?"

His eyebrows shot up, and he smirked. "Is that an invitation then?"

"How fanciful you are," she said in a hard voice before wiping her mouth with the napkin and standing up. "It is just as well then that my mattress is perfectly adequate and doesn't need testing. Poor you."

"Poor me, indeed," he breathed, unable to take his eyes off her. "Where are you going? You have not finished your meal."

"I am no longer hungry," she huffed, giving him a withering look. "I think I shall take a walk. I need to become familiar with the grounds now that I am mistress of the house."

Thomas opened his mouth to say that he would accompany her, but then closed it again. Her face was flushed, and her eyes were sparkling from their conversation. Nevertheless, she still seemed wary. Clearly, she wanted to get away from him.

"What fun," he said slowly. "I will be walking around the grounds myself today, examining my estate. The stables and so on." He paused, looking at her steadily. "Perhaps we might run into one another."

"Perhaps," she returned airily. "Or perhaps not. We shall see."

She turned on her heel and marched out of the room. Thomas let out a deep breath, sitting back in the chair. He always knew it was going to be hard to resist her, but he didn't realize exactly how hard.

It would be just the two of them rattling around this big house until they returned to London next week. How was he going to manage to keep his hands off her?

Catherine took off her bonnet, shaking her hair loose and gazing over the hillside. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the fresh country air.

It was beautiful in the countryside. From this vantage point, she could see for miles in all directions. She spotted a village below, the church spire pointing towards the sky. Perhaps she would take the carriage and explore it one day.

She sighed heavily before turning away and walking back down the hill towards the house. She needed to keep busy, and visiting the village would be a good way to kill time.

Beatrice had promised to visit her one day—she would take her dear friend to that village for a stroll. The more time she spent dodging the Duke, the better.

She felt like she was on tenterhooks, skirting her new husband, fearful he was going to approach her and come a little too close then her self-control would vanish into thin air. The hunger in his eyes was just as intense this morning at breakfast as it had been last night when she had refused him.

She stopped abruptly and took off her jacket. She had been walking for miles, and it was so hot. She felt like ripping her gown off and running through the fields like a pagan, the wind in her hair, cooling her skin.

She grinned at the thought. One night, when she was seventeen, she was driven to near madness by the heat, so she climbed out of her bedroom window and swam in the nearby lake, underneath the moonlight. She had worn nothing but what God had given her. It had been the most wonderful and relaxing experience of her life, her skin caressed by the cool waters of the lake so softly, an embrace so sensual that she'd thought she would never experience again.

Until her first kiss with Thomas, the rakish Duke. She still shivered just thinking about it.

It is gone. It will never happen again. Keep your husband at arm's length. It is the only way.

She kept walking, swatting away flies with her bonnet, past golden haystacks, smiling politely at the farmers tilling the land. Butterflies careened through the air, dipping and diving. In the distance, she heard the faint trilling of birds. It was a truly beautiful morning. So why did she feel so bereft?

It is just that everything is so new and different. My life has changed so suddenly. That is all. I am bound to be feeling a little shaken by it all.

Catherine reached the dirt path leading back to the estate. She saw it in the distance, Newden Estate, sprawling in both directions. It was a very old estate in the Elizabethan tradition with its mullioned windows and tall, domed towers. Strange to think that it was one of her new homes now, along with the Duke's London townhouse.

She hesitated. If she turned left, it would lead her straight back to the house. But it was still only mid-morning. That would mean that she would be forced to encounter the Duke again. She preferred to delay that possibility as much as she could.

Abruptly, she turned right, following the path in the other direction. It narrowed, turning into thick woodland. It was eerily silent as she walked through it, picking her way through the shrubs, feeling twigs brush against her as she passed. They felt like bony fingers.

She was climbing another hill, sweat pouring down her back. Suddenly, she reached the top of it. She gasped. Before her lay a large, beautiful lake teeming with bird life. Two majestic swans circled on the water, dipping their heads into it, alongside a family of ducks.

Catherine grinned, hiking up the skirt of her gown and skipping down the side of the hill towards the lake, suddenly feeling as carefree as a child. It was so peaceful and so isolated. Surely, she would be safe to take off her slippers and dip her toes into it? It would be so divine on such a hot day.

She reached the edge of the lake, just about to take off her slippers, when she stopped, her heart thudding. She could faintly hear splashing in the distance.

Tiptoeing along the edge of the lake, she peered around a large rock. Her eyes widened. No, it wasn't possible.

She looked again. Her heart was hammering now. A man was swimming, making long, clean strokes through the water. And now, he was making his way towards the edge. He stood up, shaking his hair so that droplets of water glistened in the air.

Her heart stopped. It was her husband. It was the Duke.

She froze, watching him. He was bare-chested, wearing only his white britches. Her eyes took in his wide, muscular chest, with a smattering of dark hair leading down to his firm, washboard flat abdomen. The dark hair started to thicken a little at the top of his britches.

Catherine's eyes widened. His britches were saturated, clinging to his firm legs, accentuating the bulge in the middle. For some reason, she couldn't take her eyes off it. She felt a flush rise to her chest, neck, and head, coating her in a fresh layer of sweat.

She forced herself to tear her eyes away from his body, focusing on his head. His dark hair was saturated with water, turning into slight curls. She watched him reach for a towel lying on the edge of the water, casually drying his hair before bringing it down and drying his chest with slow circular strokes.

Catherine felt mesmerized by the movement, watching him dry himself. She couldn't have moved if she tried…

Suddenly, he looked towards her. Their eyes met. Too late, she tried to scramble away. He grinned at her.

"Catherine," he called, beckoning her over. "Come and join me! The water is heavenly."

Catherine gulped in air, feeling rather like a fish out of water, flapping feebly on the bank.

"Oh, no," she called in an awkward voice, her heart hammering in her chest. "I do not wish to disturb you."

"You are not disturbing me," he said, slowly walking towards her. He was still toweling himself lazily. "I do not mind." He beckoned her over again. "Come here."

Her face was so flushed now that she knew she probably looked like a giant beetroot. It was so embarrassing. He had caught her gawking at him like a silly schoolgirl.

She took a deep breath, trying to gather her dignity.

"The water looks positively inviting," she relented in a loud, falsely polite voice which echoed across the lake. It was a wonder the birds didn't take flight. "But I must not linger. I took a wrong turn, you see, on my way back to the estate…"

"Sometimes the wrong turn can be the most fortuitous one," he countered, grinning, his white teeth glinting in the sunlight as he lazily dried his neck. "Why do you not take another and find out?"

Catherine gaped at him. He was grinning at her, standing there brazenly, still bare-chested with his britches clinging to his legs. She forced her gaze upwards again. Why did her eyes keep straying to that area?

"You should have some privacy," she called, trying to give him a jaunty wave. "I shall see you back at the house."

She turned away abruptly, desperately scrambling over the rock, trying to get away from him. She pretended not to hear his low laugh as she fled.

Her heart was hammering, feeling like it was about to explode in her chest. She huffed to herself as she stumbled back through the woods. Did he always swim half-clothed in this lake?

But then, she smiled to herself. She knew she would have done exactly the same thing if she could.