Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

O ctavia’s feet ached by the end of the day as she carried herself up the stairs to her new chambers. Her first impression of the Sunderley mansion had been one of grandeur and intrigue, yet all she cared about now was a hot bath and her bed.

There is still the wedding night.

Her heart fluttered in her chest as her pulse began to race. What would it feel like to lay with Simon as husband and wife? There was certainly a hint of attraction between them. Yet if their wedding breakfast was anything to go by, they could not stand to be in each other’s presence for more than a few moments at a time.

“Duchess, would you mind sparing a few moments before you go up?” Simon called to her from the foot of the stairs.

Feeling her angst turn into annoyance, Octavia paused and turned to glare at him. “Was there something you needed, Your Grace?”

Simon clenched his jaw and looked up at her. “I would like a word with you in my study if you do not mind.”

“I am listening to you now, Your Grace.” She deliberately addressed him in a formal manner after feeling as if he had avoided her all day.

“I hardly think that it is appropriate for me to shout to my wife from the bottom of the stairs. The conversation will be brief.” He narrowed his eyes at her and lifted a brow expectantly.

Swallowing her pride when she realized that he wanted a private conversation, Octavia took a deep breath and descended the staircase.

This man will be the death of me if I do not end up murdering him first.

She followed him into the downstairs study and entered when he stood aside and ushered her in.

The room itself was cozy and inviting with a warm fire blazing in the furnace despite the lack of cold weather. She noted the few shelves of leather-bound ledges along the wall before taking a seat in one of the large brown chairs in front of his desk.

“I will not take up too much of your time as I can imagine that you must be tired.”

Simon shut the door and made his way to the desk, taking a seat with his hands folded on the rich mahogany surface.

Wanting to be rid of the ache her tight plait was causing her head, Octavia began to loosen her pins before shaking her hair loose. The silky lengths cascaded down her back as tiny white flowers fell to the carpet.

It was not inappropriate for her to appear in such a state of undress now that they were married, and she was not about to stand on propriety when she was tired.

Simon stared at her hair with a veiled expression in his eyes before clearing his throat. “I wanted a word with you in private so that we may discuss the boundaries of our marriage without any of the servants overhearing. I do not think that such matters should be discussed beyond the two of us, and I will thank you for doing the same.”

Octavia finished running her fingers through her hair and looked up in confusion. “Boundaries?” She tilted her head to the side in confusion.

“Yes, boundaries. You and I both know that this marriage is one of duty and convenience, nothing more. Therefore, you need not worry that I will be visiting your chambers this evening or any evening after that.” His tone was cool, causing Octavia’s irritation to rise once again.

“Do you not wish to sire an heir, Your Grace?”

She wondered if the attraction she had felt toward him was one-sided. Perhaps the kiss they had shared at the wedding was not as surprising to him as it was to her. Her heart fluttered again when she recalled the shiver of pleasure that had run down her spine when his lips had met hers.

“No, I have never intended to sire an heir. I probably should have mentioned this to you before we got married, but time was not something that was afforded to either of us. My plan is to find my brother as soon as possible and force him to make good on his promise of marrying. If Augustus can produce an heir, there will be little to no reason for us to do so. Furthermore, you may choose your dwelling as you see fit. The Sunderley family owns many houses across London and in the country.”

His voice retained the same coolness as if he were speaking to an acquaintance rather than his wife.

How can he be so cold?

She suddenly realized why he had made the remark about the house being her dwelling for the time being.

Octavia took a deep breath and smiled, realizing that the situation could work to her advantage.

“Very well, if that is how you wish to conduct your business, then I only have one thing to ask.”

Simon sat back in his chair and raised both his eyebrows in question. “Go on.”

“I wish to travel. Whether it is with you on business, the occasional holiday, or even with a chaperone that has been approved by you. I have always harbored an affinity for travel, and I do not wish to give up on that.” She stated her case defiantly and waited for his response.

Simon seemed impressed as his tongue flicked over his lips. “Very well, I wish to keep our arrangement within our marriage, so you will more than likely be accompanying me on business, but I am not opposed to your wants. I will, however, expect you to obey me any time I tell you to return home or even to my side. Society must see us as one even if we do not live as such.”

“So, I am to be your captive under the illusion of freedom?” She felt her anger rising in her chest as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“You may view the situation as such if you wish. I will not have people gossiping about my wife.” His words bit into her chest like a knife.

“I can assure you that if anyone ever gossips about our marriage, it will not be because of me, Your Grace!” She stood so abruptly that she almost stumbled.

This man is insufferable!

Her blood boiled at the thought of having so much ‘freedom’ that came at the price of her own free will.

Simon stood along with her and came out from behind his desk. “There is just one other matter that I wish to discuss with you before you storm off.”

It was Octavia’s turn to raise an eyebrow as she glared at him, detesting his portrayal of her reactions. “Go on?”

Did he think of her as an unreasonable and spoiled woman just because she wished to have an iota of freedom?

The Duke cleared his throat before crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the edge of the desk. “I do not require you to live the rest of your life in solitude. You may do as you please in private as long as you are discreet about the matter.”

Confusion filled her mind as a frown creased her brow. “I do not understand…”

The meaning of his words dawned on her as she looked up in shock, making her blood boil at his insinuation.

He stared back at her, unblinking as his expression remained fixed in place. “This is how things are in the real world. I’m not sure if you have been fed a story of how love is all roses and sunshine, but it is not. Married couples take lovers and avoid each other as much as possible.”

“Of course, Your Grace, I would not want to remain a saccharine virgin for the rest of my life.” She cocked her head to the side in a challenge and stood her ground, shocked by his view of how a marriage worked.

Just who does he think he is?

Her pulse began to race when he closed the distance between them and glared down at her, his jaw set in anger.

“You will have to start addressing me as something other than Your Grace if we are to have a believable marriage.” His chest rose and fell with every breath as he narrowed his eyes, hiding his dark expression.

“I would address you as Simon if you were not so cold and aloof all the time, Your Grace,” she fired back at him and took a step forward, refusing to back down until their noses were just about touching.

Simon’s breath tickled her lips as his eyes dipped to her mouth with a hungry glare that made the pit of her stomach coil deliciously with desire.

“Why should my coldness have any kind of effect on the manner in which you address me, wife?”

Octavia twitched when she felt his hand brush up against hers, her lips parting in ragged breaths as the heavy scent of his cologne filled her senses.

There was not any time to respond as Simon’s lips hungry sought hers, parting her mouth with his tongue before searching the warmth depths.

She could not help but moan with pleasure when her body responded to his in kind. Her breasts pressed into his chest as her arms snaked around his neck, drawing him closer into their passionate embrace.

Simon growled hungrily against her lips when she drew his bottom lip through her teeth. His hands moved down her waist, cupping her bottom firmly before lifting her in the air and placing her on the desk in one smooth motion.

An audible gasp escaped her throat when his hand moved up her side and firmly cupped her breast. The waves of pleasure that washed over her chest made her kiss him even deeper as her tongue jousted with his, fighting for dominance.

Parting her thighs with his knees, Simon leaned into her, the bulge in his breeches pressing into her core as they kissed. Her hands moved up the back of his neck and tangled in the thick locks of his hair before his mouth moved from her mouth to her neck.

Whimpers of pleasure came from her throat when he kissed a path down her neck, using the tip of his tongue to subtly draw patterns.

The fabric of her dress had only just slipped from her shoulder when a loud knock drew them apart.

Jumping back as if he had been caught red-handed, Simon held her gaze as his chest rose and fell with labored breaths. His hair was tousled where her fingers had gripped the roots. “Who is it?” he barked at the door, seemingly annoyed by the interruption.

There was a moment of hesitation before a man called back, “I have your glass of whisky, Your Grace. I noted that you had not gone up to bed yet and wondered if you would still be finishing the evening off as you have always done.”

The muffled voice seemed dignified yet uncertain.

The moment seemed to linger on for quite a while as Octavia regained control of her breathing and fixed her dress before hopping off the desk.

Simon’s eyes watched her every move with a veiled expression before he spoke again. “Thank you, Jeeves; you may bring in the whisky.”

The door opened to reveal an elderly man dressed in a butler’s livery. The light of the fire cast shadows over his balding head as the man held his head high and brought the tray into the room. He placed the single glass of whisky on the desk before bowing to Octavia and addressing Simon.

“Forgive me, Your Grace, I did not know that Her Grace would be joining you this evening. I will fetch another glass at once.”

Octavia’s heart pounded furiously when Simon ordered him to stop. “I think that Her Grace would like to turn in for the evening. Would you kindly show her to her chambers? I know that Farley is waiting to welcome her.” He tore his eyes away from her and nodded a dismissal to the butler.

Confusion made her chest clench as she suddenly felt ill at ease in his presence. Was he casting her off after having kissed her so passionately? Heat flooded her cheeks when she realized that she had been just as guilty as him in initiating the intimate moment.

“Good evening, Your Grace.” She defied him openly and curtsied before leaving the room with the butler in tow. If he was about to deny the attraction that was clearly so evident between them, then she would not be playing his games.

Marching back up the stairs, she made her way across the gallery with the butler hurrying to keep up with her. It was not until they reached the end of the corridor of rooms that she stopped and allowed the man to open a door for her.

“I will bid you a good evening, Your Grace; Mrs. Farley will assist with anything else that you may need.” Jeeves bowed courteously and shut the door behind her back.

It took Octavia a moment to calm down before looking around her room and noting the older woman dressed in a black uniform.

“Good evening, Your Grace, I hope you do not mind the intrusion. I wanted everything to be perfect for you this evening. My name is Mrs. Farley, and I am your housekeeper.” The woman curtsied kindly and smiled at Octavia.

Remembering her position as the lady of the house, Octavia nodded, wanting to be alone. “Thank you, Mrs. Farley. I appreciate all of your efforts, but there will be no need for any kind of preparation this evening. I will have a hot bath and go straight to bed.”

Mrs. Farley seemed hesitant and confused as she frowned, clasping her wrinkled hands in front of her. “Of course, Your Grace, I had anticipated the bath. The water has already been brought up and is waiting for you in the adjacent room. Shall I send for your maid to assist, I am also more than happy to step in if Your Grace does not wish to wait.”

“No.” Octavia snapped a little too quickly before reminding herself that the housekeeper was not at fault. “That is to say, no thank you, Mrs. Farley, I wish to be alone for a while. I will bathe myself this evening, and we may commence with the rest of the introductions in the morning.”

Mrs. Farley bowed and curtsied politely before making her way from the room and shutting the door.

Walking across her room with all the fine furnishing and floral décor, Octavia lifted a pillow from the bed and flung it across the room. The only thing that would have made her feel better was if the Duke had been standing in its path.

He is such an insufferable man!

She wanted to open the window and yell her frustrations at the rest of the world. He was hot one moment and cold the next. His behavior was beginning to make her wonder if she had married a man or a beverage.

If he wanted to play games with her, then she was left with no other choice than to play the dutiful wife—no matter what situation she was thrust into.