Chapter 32

CHAPTER 32

E lizabeth walked down the hallway, her thoughts lighter than they had been in months. The events of the previous night had left her with a sense of relief—and, more than that, pride. Alexander had finally opened up to her. After so long, he had let her see the part of him that had been locked away, guarded by grief and guilt. She had been the one to console him, to share in his pain, and that gave her a sense of closeness she hadn't known was possible.

She wanted more.

The thought filled her mind, refusing to be ignored. Their marriage had always been a formal arrangement, a necessity to protect their family's honor, but now, after last night, she couldn't pretend any longer. She wanted a real marriage, a true partnership, not just the hollow shell of a union they had maintained for months. Couldn't they build something more?

Her steps quickened as she made her way toward the salon where she suspected Alexander was. She would speak to him about adjusting the terms of their marriage. It was time. Perhaps, after last night, he would be open to more—to everything .

But as she neared the door, she heard voices, and her steps faltered. Colin's unmistakable tone carried through the room, light and jovial.

"The Duchess was a marvelous hostess, I must say," Colin declared, his voice filled with cheer. "And what a delightful family she has."

Elizabeth paused, her hand on the doorknob, a smile forming on her lips. It was kind of Colin to say so, and for a moment, she felt a sense of pride. But something stopped her from entering. Instead, she lingered by the door, her curiosity keeping her in place.

"They are a delightful lot," came Alexander's voice, his tone warm in agreement. "And I must say, your idea about the gifts for the Duchess has reaped excellent results. She receives them well each time."

The smile on Elizabeth's lips froze, something within her sinking. The gifts... had they not been from him? Had they merely been suggestions from Colin? She had cherished those moments, thinking they had come from Alexander's heart. Each gift had felt like a small bridge between them, an olive branch he had offered in the quiet of their marriage. But now... now it seemed they were merely a strategy, a gesture devoid of the meaning she had attached to them.

Had he only given her gifts to placate her? To keep her satisfied while maintaining the distance between them? Her thoughts spiraled, each one sharper than the last, cutting into the hope she had held only moments before. Perhaps it had all been for show. Perhaps their entire marriage was nothing more than a performance to uphold his family's honor.

The voices in the salon continued, but Elizabeth could no longer bear to listen. Her heart heavy with disappointment, she turned away, her steps swift as she made her way back to her bedroom. She barely noticed the butler as he intercepted her in the corridor, holding out a letter.

"An invitation for tomorrow evening, Your Grace," he said, bowing slightly.

Elizabeth barely registered the words, her thoughts clouded by the ache in her chest. She took the letter absently, offering a nod before retreating to the quiet solace of her chambers.

The following evening, Elizabeth attended the dinner party, but the lively conversations and laughter felt like a dull hum in her ears. She played the part of the gracious hostess, her smile practiced and polite, but inside, she was struggling. The weight of her disappointment sat heavily on her, and though she tried to push it aside, it gnawed at her throughout the evening.

Alexander joined her on the terrace after the meal, a glass of port in his hand. The cool night air brushed against them, but Elizabeth felt anything but calm.

"You're quiet," Alexander observed, his brow furrowing slightly. "Are you all right?"

Elizabeth managed a faint smile, but it felt hollow. "I'm quite fine," she replied, though the words tasted like a lie. His presence beside her, so close yet so distant, felt like a reminder of everything she could never have with him. The thought of it, of the barriers between them, tightened around her like a noose.

Suddenly, she felt suffocated.

"I... I need a moment," she muttered, her voice strained as she excused herself. She caught the brief flicker of concern in his eyes, but he didn't stop her as she hurried inside, making her way to the retiring room.

Inside, Elizabeth stood before the mirror, her hands gripping the edge of the vanity as she tried to collect herself. She could feel the sting of tears at the back of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. This was not the time, nor the place. She was the Duchess of Sterlin, and her duty was to keep up appearances, no matter how much her heart ached.

After a few moments, she steadied herself and made her way back toward the party. As she walked through the hall, she nearly bumped into Percy, who appeared from one of the adjoining rooms.

"Alone, Your Grace?" Percy teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I thought you and my brother were practically joined at the hip these days."

Despite herself, Elizabeth laughed softly. "It seems I managed to escape for a moment."

Percy grinned. "Tell me, how did you manage it? What's your secret, eh?"

His humor was light, and though her heart was heavy, Elizabeth found herself smiling. "It's a talent, I suppose."

They walked back toward the drawing room together, Percy's lightheartedness lifting her spirits, if only slightly. As they approached the entrance, however, Elizabeth's steps faltered.

On the terrace, she saw Alexander in conversation with none other than Georgianna. The widow stood close to him, her body angled toward his, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. Elizabeth couldn't make out Alexander's expression, but something about the scene made her stomach twist. Georgianna glanced up then, her sharp eyes catching sight of Elizabeth. A smirk curled on her lips as she whispered something to Alexander, placing a deliberate hand on his sleeve.

Elizabeth's heart sank as she watched. Alexander's gaze followed Georgianna's, landing on Elizabeth and Percy. For a moment, his eyes darkened, flicking between them as if taking in the sight of them together. The smile that had been on Elizabeth's face faded, and she felt her heart constrict.

Georgianna leaned closer to Alexander, said something inaudible, and then turned to leave, casting one final glance in Elizabeth's direction as if to underscore her victory.

"I'll leave you to return to your husband," Percy said softly, stepping back as if sensing the shift in the air.

Elizabeth nodded, but her thoughts were elsewhere, her gaze still locked on Alexander. She could feel the tension between them, thick and unspoken, as the evening drew on. Even the carriage ride back to the estate was filled with a strained silence, Alexander trying once more to ask if she was all right, and Elizabeth dismissing him with a quiet murmur.

The next afternoon, as Elizabeth tried to distract herself in her sitting room, the housekeeper entered, carrying a set of keys.

"These are the keys to Lady Eleanor's bedchambers, Your Grace," the housekeeper said, holding them out to her. "The Duke wishes for you to have them."

Elizabeth blinked, surprise flashing through her. "Whatever for?"

"I believe the Duke will be the best person to answer that," the housekeeper replied with a respectful nod.

Elizabeth hesitated for a moment before taking the keys. Confusion mingled with curiosity as she made her way to Alexander's study, where she found him sorting through correspondence.

"Ah, yes," Alexander said when she questioned him. "I want you to have them."

Elizabeth's heart gave a small flutter as she held the keys in her hand. "Why?" she asked softly.

"You can do as you wish with the room now," he said, his voice steady but carrying an edge of something deeper. "It is time to close that chapter, and I trust you to decide what should be done. It is in your hands now."

Elizabeth was touched, a warmth spreading through her chest at his words. This was a gesture she hadn't expected, and it meant more to her than she could express. But at the same time, a painful reminder crept into her heart. He may trust her now, but that didn't mean he loved her. He may rely on her, but she would never be more than a part of his duty. She reminded herself to know her place, even as her heart longed for more.

Before she could respond, the butler entered with yet another invitation, interrupting the moment.

"It seems every household in society is clamoring to host now that the season is drawing to a close," Alexander remarked, his brow furrowed as he scanned the pile of ball invitations spread out before him. His tone was measured, a hint of exhaustion creeping into his voice as he sifted through the endless cards, each one vying for their attention.

Elizabeth sat across from him, her hands resting idly in her lap, though her thoughts were anything but calm. She had been distracted all morning, her mind turning over the same question, the same quiet longing that had been building inside her since their conversation the night before. Alexander had shown her a glimpse of the man he kept hidden, the man buried beneath layers of duty and responsibility, and it had stirred something deep within her.

Despite everything—despite the rocky start to their marriage, the misunderstandings, the moments of distance—she still longed for something real between them. Something more than an arrangement or a partnership of convenience. Last night had given her courage. They had made progress, surely. Perhaps it was finally time to ask for more.

"Alex..." Her voice came out softly, almost tentative, as she reached for the words that had been sitting on the tip of her tongue all morning.

Alexander looked up from the stack of invitations, his gaze shifting to her. There was curiosity in his eyes, tempered with a trace of concern. "Yes?"

The simple word hung in the air between them, and for a moment, Elizabeth felt as though the entire room had stilled. This was her chance—to say what had been weighing on her heart for so long. To tell him how she truly felt, how she wanted their marriage to be something more. She opened her mouth to speak, to find the courage to finally voice her desires.

But as the words hovered on the edge of her lips, doubt crept in. What if he didn't feel the same? What if her longing for more was met with indifference, or worse, rejection? The fear of what his response might be seized her, and in that instant, the courage she had felt just moments before crumbled.

She shook her head, letting out a small, resigned sigh. "Nothing."

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he did not question her further. For how long must I endure this?