Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

“ A nd do you, Lady Sophia, take this man, the Duke of Heathcote, to be your lawfully wedded husband, from this moment and for every moment forward until the end of your days?”

“I do.”

“Then by the power invested in me by God and the Crown, I now pronounce you ? —”

“Lady Sophia.” Thomas’s voice shook her awake.

She was still in her wedding gown of duck-egg blue, her back sore from sitting at an awkward angle, positioning her body as far from him as possible in the carriage. Her feet ached too, her shoes too small.

Had she been asleep or merely lost in thought? She couldn’t tell, her entire being already exhausted from the three weeks of sleepless nights that had preceded her wedding.

“Sit in a more befitting manner,” he continued in a cool tone. “We are nearly there.”

She realized her situation now. The wedding was already over and had not been a nightmare at all. It barely lasted an hour; it felt more like a technicality than anything else. That was it. She was now a wife. His wife .

She shook her head and rubbed her forehead. “You are too loud,” she mumbled. “And you should refer to me in a more befitting manner.”

I am a duchess now.

She shuddered, though it was stiflingly hot in the carriage.

“The servants expect you to be their mistress now, so you need to look like you have some semblance of dignity about you,” he said in the same cool tone.

The family carriage was taking them to Heathcote Manor, deep in the wilds of the countryside and so far from her own home and family, the sound of clopping hooves tapping rhythmically in her ear.

“I might have had time to refresh myself if you had not snatched me away two seconds after the priest declared us wed,” she grumbled. “My mother had an entire wedding breakfast and festivities prepared. Wasted now. How is that dignified behavior?”

Thomas gazed out the window at the passing tangled hedgerows. “I saw no need to linger.” He sighed. “You will appear disheveled, that can’t be helped, but you must seem as if you are fit for your new title. You cannot be absentminded and forever in your daydreams—you must be strict in front of them. Then, and only then, will I consider calling you ‘Duchess.’ It must be earned.”

“You will never call me that, then,” she said with conviction. “Did you or did you not give me an entire speech about how you remain true to yourself? About how you will not even crack a false smile to keep up appearances? Why would I do any differently? I am not strict, I am not duchess-like, and I won’t pretend otherwise.”

He continued to watch the world pass by. “That is fair, I suppose. Go ahead and ruin this, for all I care. Let them gossip and talk all about how the lady of the house is a slattern who doesn’t know how to run a house. I am sure it will be tremendous for this illusion of a wedding we have crafted.”

“Ah… so my absentmindedness is the problem and not the fact that your face has been stuck in a frown since the day you were born?” She nodded sarcastically. “I’m sure no one will gossip about how the Duke never smiles around his wife . No, no, heaven forbid that you should be judged.”

Sophia bent forward, irritated as she tried to unravel the knots in her back and loosen the laces of her too-tight shoes.

Thomas looked at her with confusion. “What are you planning to do with those?”

“Goodness, must I ask permission for everything I do? Must I request your consent whenever I think of breathing?” She pulled off both shoes and placed them beside her on the velvet squabs. “My feet hurt, is all. If I want to throw something at you, I promise you, you won’t be forewarned. I grew up with two brothers, my dear husband. Trust me when I say, I can hold my own in a fight.”

Thomas turned and looked outside once more, and though she did not trust her eyes, she could have sworn she saw the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. It irked her to see him draw amusement from her annoyance, and though she held her tongue, she could not hold back her mind.

And if you bite me again, Your Grace, do not be surprised when I bite back.

A meandering driveway took the new Duchess to her final destination. To annoy Thomas further, Sophia pulled down the carriage window and stuck her head out, determined to get the full experience of arriving at her prison, where the staff would be sure to see her.

The manor was not as bleak as she had imagined it would be. It was a fine feat of architecture in golden sandstone with four floors of glinting sash windows, and a triangular roof that made the entire manor look like one enormous portico. Larger than her family’s residence, the lawns were well kept, and she spotted an ancient oak tree with sprawling branches, offering the pleasant shade that she craved in the sweltering heat of the carriage.

Not a terrible prison. Plenty of woodland to get lost in.

“Will you show some decorum?” Thomas growled, grabbing her by the back of her gown as if she were a naughty pup and pulling her back into the carriage.

She rounded on him. “Touch me again and I will show you how indecorous I can be. I can make you rue the day you married me.”

“No need,” he replied. “I already do.”

The carriage stopped by the grand entrance—two sets of steps leading up to a terrace where the front door could be found—preventing any further venom from spilling between them.

She looked sullenly ahead, at least a little bit interested in Thomas escorting her around the house and showing her all the little nooks and crannies where she might hide from him in due course.

Maybe it has secret rooms and fake doors or ? —

Thomas had already exited the carriage and was heading up the steps without her, leaving the carriage door hanging open as if to say, See to yourself.

Sophia bolted out and stormed up the opposite set of steps as fast as she could, but he was already in the house by the time she caught up to him, storming into the entrance hall.

Thomas was taking off his tailcoat and passing it to a servant, revealing the billowing sleeves of his shirt. Beneath were the powerful arms that had saved her from embarrassment at the Whittakers’ ball. She stared at them, all her rageful words dying in her throat as she watched him loosen his cravat, unbutton his collar, and roll up his sleeves, exposing corded, sun-browned forearms that had the most startling effect on the traitorous butterflies in her stomach.

He turned around in his state of undress and looked at her and then at her bare feet, which were now touching the pristine hardwood floor, trailing the grassy dirt from outside.

“The lady is in need of slippers, Miss Wright. Bring her some,” he ordered the maid, who held his tailcoat like a prize. “Or don’t, I guess.” He turned and walked towards the arch of a hallway on his left. “Dear wife, the staff will show you around.”

“What?” Sophia rushed to try and block his departure, lifting her skirts so she could run. “You are not seriously going to leave me alone, are you?”

“I assumed you would prefer it,” he replied, maddeningly perceptive.

Of course , she did not want him hanging around her, where she might have to be alone with him , but the thought of being abandoned in a strange house was far worse than her fear of him and his intentions at that moment.

“Afterward, yes,” she said as defiantly as she could. “But you can’t just abandon me. I will not let you just throw me to the staff like I am an unwanted gift. Where is your decorum?”

He snorted. “Says you, wandering the entrance hall in your bare feet. Please, in the future, refrain from doing so. As for abandoning you, I am not. I am simply avoiding unnecessary interactions.”

“Talking to your wife, making her familiar with her new residence, is unnecessary? How am I to know where the best places to avoid you are if you do not show me?”

He moved closer, and her breath caught in her throat, his hand coming up as if he meant to touch her face. A frown creased his brow, and he lowered his hand again, folding his arms behind his back as if he did not trust them.

“On the contrary, it would be better if I didn’t know where you would go to avoid me,” he said. “You are now the lady of this house. You can walk around, order everyone around, and do whatever you want, as long as it doesn’t affect me or my reputation . That is all I ask. Don’t bother me, and I won’t bother you. Do you understand what all of this means?”

Sophia lowered her eyes, trying to hide her irritation. “It means that you are more despicable than I knew you to be. Discourteous, reprehensible, unfeeling, and?—”

His hand caught her under the chin, shock rippling through her as he pressed his lips against hers—the same soft lips that had teased her neck. She should have hit him, should have stomped on his foot, should have shoved him as hard as she could… but she did not want to.

Madness had clearly overwhelmed her mind, slowly closing her eyes to the burning touch of his lips on hers, making it feel… good.

His mouth caught hers again in a rougher kiss as if urging her to respond with the same passion she used to yell at him. For a dizzying moment, she considered it, her hands itching to touch his hard, muscular chest, the powerful shape of his arms.

She snapped out of her madness as swiftly as she had plummeted into it, wrenching away from him.

“How dare you,” she rasped, her lips still tingling.

“No, wife. How dare you .” He brushed his thumb over his lips. “At your own house, surrounded by your ilk, you can say what you please about me. In this house, I won’t tolerate it.”

She struggled to catch her breath, confused by the warmth that flooded her veins and fluttered in her stomach. Had that been a punishment? It hadn’t felt like one.

“When no one else is around, we do not have to interact,” he continued. “If we just both keep to ourselves, then this sham of a marriage might actually work.”

For the first time in a long while, Sophia was speechless. A few seconds passed, Thomas evidently waiting to see if she would rebel or put up a fight, but no such thing happened.

He exhaled and straightened his clothes. “Miss Wright, bring the lady those slippers I spoke of and show her to her chambers. Make sure she has everything and anything she needs.”

The maid nodded effusively, her face flushed, pretending she hadn’t heard or seen what had just happened, while Thomas stalked off and left Sophia alone.

Sophia watched him walk away and felt her entire life crashing down on her. All of this just to be stuck in a house in the middle of nowhere with a man who ignored her and couldn’t care about her in the slightest. A man who kissed as punishment. No affection, no tender embrace for this disgruntled bride on a lonely afternoon. Only an empty bed, a grumpy husband, and a whirling confusion in her head and body.

She was no different than the paintings and statues in this estate, another decoration added to the pile to further the Duke’s status. This was her life now.

It can’t be… There has to be more.

But as she touched her lips, breathless, she could not decide if she wanted to know what ‘more’ entailed. Her body said yes, but her mind said never.