Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

C hristine looked up when the Duke entered the dining room. He did not look back at her, and for a moment, she wondered if he knew she was there at all. All she wanted was for him to notice her.

Christine felt the urge to laugh at herself. Was that all she wanted? To have her husband notice her? Would that be enough?

It might be for a short while, but she would slowly crave more and more until she was back where she started, needing to feel his touch again. After a few minutes in his room, she yearned to repeat the act, no matter how much she tried to push her feelings deep down.

"Good evening," the Duke said as he sat down.

"Good evening," Christine replied. She tried to say the words as flatly and dully as she could, but the Duke did not seem to notice.

Christine watched him as he pulled out his newspaper and began to read before the soup course was served. It had been the same the previous seven evenings, the two of them going through the same charade. He had not spoken to her much outside their suppers, and even then, he barely made any conversation.

He barely looked at her.

It would have been much better if it were all or nothing, but Christine did not know which she would prefer. If they had everything, she would be pleasured when she wanted and would be safe in his strong arms. Yet, she would have to be by his side constantly, and he had shown he was a boor of a man.

If they had nothing, there would be no chance of feeling what she had once felt, but she would not have that hope in her heart. It was the hope that killed her as she waited for him to repeat the night in his room that felt so long ago now.

"How has your day been?" Christine asked.

The Duke folded the paper and put it down beside his plate. "Troublesome," he replied. "I shall not bore you with the details, but someone has been dipping their hands into the coffers, and I had to send them packing."

"Oh? Was that hard to do?" Christine asked.

"Not particularly. He was in the wrong, and I had no choice but to sack him from my employ. He tried to argue with me at first, but I had proof of his indiscretions, and once I showed him the proof, he fell quiet. I did not like to do it, but it had to be done for the good of everyone else around him."

Christine felt troubled by his forthright responses. She had sat silently at previous suppers, waiting for her husband to speak, and he never had. She did not expect him to reply in such volume when she asked him questions. It felt as if he were talking to a work acquaintance, but it was a start.

There had been something else puzzling her, and she decided to push with him being so vocal. She did not ask the question immediately as the soup course was brought out, and bowls of steaming leak and potato soup were placed before them. Christine waited for the servers to return to the kitchen before she spoke again.

"The soup smells delicious," she noted, blowing on her spoonful. "You did not respond to Viscount Chiverton's invite four days ago nor yesterday."

"I am far too busy at the moment," the Duke replied.

"You work too hard," Christine noted. "I admire a man who works so hard, but I hope your workload will be lessened soon."

The Duke nodded, accepting the compliment but not reacting much to it.

"You have not been out late any night in the past weeks," Christine noted. "You have been in your study or room until late most nights."

"I have." The Duke placed his spoon in his bowl of soup and looked over at Christine, something he rarely did at supper time. "What is it you mean to ask me?"

"No, I don't… It is only—will you go back to the life you had?"

Christine did not hold out hope for a particular answer in her heart; she only wanted to know where she stood, so she could get on with her life. He had touched her once and never again. She could not help but feel rejected by that, but he had also not been with any other woman since they had wed, and that gave her some hope. It was more hope that killed her inside.

"And what was the life I had?" the Duke asked.

"We both know what your life was," Christine said.

The Duke took a few spoonfuls of his soup before he spoke again. "Does that trouble you?"

"Many things trouble me," Christine said.

"Will you share them with me? I can make problems go away."

"I don't think you can with these problems," Christine replied.

The Duke gestured with his spoon much like her father did with his pipe. "Then, I am the one responsible for the problems."

"No, they are my problems, and I am responsible for them," Christine countered. "They are mine to deal with, and I shall deal with them."

"Always so stubborn," the Duke commented before taking another spoonful of soup.

"Did you come here just to insult me?" Christine asked.

"I could ask the same of you," the Duke said. "I came here to have a pleasant supper with you, and you ask me if I mean to sleep with other women while I am married, and I only ask if I can help with your problems."

"You are twisting my words," Christine said.

The Duke did not reply to the comment and finished his soup quickly before picking up the newspaper again. Christine wanted to tell him that she would rather dine alone for the rest of her life, but she did not want to create more arguments.

When he had touched her in his room, he wanted it as much as she did, but something held him back. And he was prepared to dine with her every night. Perhaps there was some hope. If he did not go back to his old life, then he had been changed by marriage, and that meant?—

I must stop with the hope! The more hope I have, the more my feelings will be destroyed when that hope is taken from me!

The servers took the bowls away and filled the wine glasses before they returned with roasted quail on a bed of pureed celery and potato. One maid walked from one side of the table to the other with a small gravy boat, adding sauce to both suppers. The smell reminded Christine of a lavish dinner party she had attended with her parents when she was very young. She could not determine whether the food smelled so appetizing because it was or because she was nostalgic for simpler times.

Christine waited a moment before cutting into the tender meat. Steam billowed out, and she put her knife and fork down on the plate, giving the food a little time to cool.

"Will you go back to that life?" Christine pushed.

The Duke folded his newspaper and placed it down by his plate once more. He carved his quail and chewed on a mouthful of meat. When he was done, he finally answered.

"I never left that life," the Duke said. "Is that what has been bothering you? Did you think that you would have me all to myself? You knew what you were getting into when you married me."

"I don't expect you all to myself, and I think you should do whatever you please and what makes you happy, and I can do as I please and be happy."

"Then both of us will be happy, and that can only be a good thing, can't it?" the Duke asked.

Christine shook her head and dived into the quail, needing to eat as quickly as possible and get out of the dining room.

"What is it that will make you happy, Christine?" the Duke asked.

She stopped before taking her second bite and slowly placed her cutlery down on the plate.

There are a million things that will make me happy. For you to take me to your bed, so I feel like a woman and a wife instead of adornment for a Duke. I wish not to be married to you, so I do not have to feel rejected all the time. I wish we never had to see each other ever again. I wish someone cared for me. I wish to be loved, but that will never happen now. All I can hope for is to help others and guide them, so they don't make the same mistakes.

"How can I wish for anything when I have all of this." Christine swept her arm through the air.

"Sarcasm is not becoming of you," the Duke muttered as he went back to his meal.

I want to have what society deems I should have. I want a marriage and a family but with someone who loves me. I shall not have that. I shall not have anything.

Christine glanced over at the Duke. He concentrated only on the small roasted bird before him as if he might spontaneously combust if he looked anywhere else. It did not help that he was so handsome. Every time he put a morsel of meat into his mouth, she could feel his lips on hers. They glistened with the fat of the quail, drawing her eye even more. He moved elegantly, bringing the fork from his plate to his mouth as if in time with music.

She wanted to inform him that she would not dine with him again to protect her heart, but she could not stop thinking about the meager seconds of burning desire that he had conjured in her heart when they had kissed.

Am I so fragile and needy that I will hold out for a moment like that again? Does a single kiss counteract how awful a man he is?

"I must attend a ball next weekend," the Duke announced. "Adeline needs a chaperone."

Christine immediately thought about the secret man she had been seeing. She did not know how far into a relationship they were, but if he were at the ball, then Christine had to be there, too, to protect the Duke's sister.

"I shall attend, also," she said.

The Duke raised his eyebrows and looked across the table at Christine. "You wish to dance with me after I danced with your sister at the last ball."

"Yes, that is what I have been dreaming of ever since we married," she replied.

The Duke pushed his mouth to the side on one side and held her gaze for a moment. "I understand that we have not done much since we have become married, and I know this must add to your frustration. We shall go together if it would please you."

I will get to keep an eye on Adeline. "It will please me."

"We shall have to act like a couple who have just become married, and not like—" The Duke swept his hand across the air. "—this."

"I am sure I can manage it if you can." Christine raised her eyebrows as she said it.

The thought of dancing with him was now firmly implanted in her mind.

"Are you sure?" the Duke asked with a smile. "The last time you were at a ball ended with me saving your blushes."

"Saving my blushes? You saved my blushes by marrying me? Is that what you mean to say? We both know this is about more than that, even if you won't talk to me about anything. You did not save my blushes by marrying me; you saved your own."

"You were the one who followed me outside when I was minding my own business and shouted at me for not being polite enough. Will you shout at me this time around?"

Christine's neck became warm under the cotton collar of her blouse. "Well, that depends. What are you intending to do at this ball? I shall not need to shout at you if you are able to behave yourself, but I don't believe you are capable of that."

"In whose eyes?" the Duke asked. "You will find that I behave just as people expect me to behave. You have already intimated that you don't need me to change for you, so where does that leave us."

Christine took her napkin and wiped her mouth. "You were the one who said we must act as a newly married couple. So, what does that mean to you, Your Grace? Are we to act in love, or will you act as society expects you to act?"

The Duke fell silent. He opened his mouth to speak but could not find the words.

"There is a first," Christine said. "I did not think I would ever see you at a loss for words, but you have fallen silent. Perhaps you are capable of change."

"I hope you are capable of change, my dear. If not, I shall have to listen to your constant berating at supper every night."

Christine stood up so quickly that she almost toppled her chair back. "We don't have to dine together. Don't do it on my account. I am fine to dine by myself or with your sister. I would not want to burden you with having to provide scintillating conversation with me."

"I appreciate your concern; I really do. How about you do whatever you please around here, and we don't need to interact with each other at all?" the Duke suggested.

"If only I could go back in time," Christine said. "I would much rather have my reputation ruined and have everyone think I had been intimate with you than have to pretend I am in love with you at a ball."

"Then don't come to the ball," the Duke replied.

Christine stepped away from the table and walked for the door.

"I will be at the ball," she said over her shoulder.