Chapter 2

With an aggravated grunt Julius rose from, gathered his things and headed to his room, craving a cold bath and a hot meal. After dropping his armful on the floor, he poured a glass of water from a jug and drank half in quick succession before his eyes dropped onto a letter placed upon a sliver tray.

Plucking it up, he spun it and saw Louisa's now familiar hand.

Your valiant acts aside, I believe you are a danger to yourself and others.

Dropping it, he turned away, unwilling and unprepared to read whatever she had written to him— as unsavory as it was, Harrington's word crept back to him.

With a guarded mind and unwilling heart, he slid it open. All this time she had only written to Rose, what had made her write to him this time.

Your Grace,

This is against my nature to ruffle feathers and break the unspoken and spoken terms of our marriage, but this is a situation that I cannot bear anymore.

Months upon months I have heard rumors, born snide remarks, and smiled in the face of insults about you taking lovers to your bed, many lovers I may add.

Though we are married, it was unofficially said that we were not to pry into each other's personal affairs, but even if you are trying to be discreet, word does get out. I ask you to please, for my sake and my honor and respectability to please stop.

I can barely leave my house without whispers trailing behind me and God forbid I attend a social gathering where I must be face with many subtle comments about my unsuitability to be your wife.

As you are Duke of the Realm, you do have the power to do what pleases you, but I ask please not do so at my expense. If you must continue these affairs, I ask you to please do whatever is necessary to dissolve our marriage and free me from this as I cannot bear this ignominy anymore.

All is well at the townhouse, but you would know, for you correspond with the butler and housekeeper.

Sincerely, Louisa Compton

Duchess Blackwell.

"Affairs," he ground the word out through his teeth. "Many affairs at that." Dropping the letter, he felt tempted to laugh. "Le beau ton, you do not fail me at all with these rumors. Why did I expect anything else?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, he tried to rub the tight knots at the base away while considering what to do about these allegations. How did he go about and prove to Louisa that, not once since he had returned to Blackwell Estate, had he invited female company.

Eyes dropping back to the polite closing and realized it was not that polite at all; he did not miss the sarcasm and displeasure in her tone, and Julius cursed himself for neglecting to read and respond to her.

"Should I send back a letter or…." His eyes flickered to the invite Rose had slipped under his door and made a quick decision "No. I will tell her in person."

All things considered; this ball was going well. She watched, impressed, as young men dressed in black and white elegant evening twirled with elegant women clad in all shades of the rainbow with fortune in jewelry at their throats and ears. Her sister and her husband had not arrived yet, but she expected any moment now.

In the past, Louisa had dreaded balls because the crush of people made her nervous. The disparaging glances and snickers behind fans had always set her nerves on edge and she had done her best to be invisible at times, yet tonight was different, the guests were in her home now.

Your Grace," Countess Farnham curtsied, her slender peach gown flattering to her figure. The lady had just passed her butler, Elias Sawyer. "So glad to see you in better health."

Of course you don't. You're still incensed that I married Julius, and your daughter did not.

Obligated, Louisa held her hand and they exchanged air kisses. "Thank you, Lady Johanna. I'm happy that bout of malaise had faded. These fleeting emotions, you know, so mercurial with our sex."

"Isn't it always the way," the lady gave a tinkling laugh, but hardness was behind her eyes.

As she moved away, Louisa plucked a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and tried to move on. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in a nearby mirror and smiled.

Once upon a time she had worn primly proper dresses with pieces of starchy-looking fabric tucked neatly in the neckline and adorned with abundance of ribbons and flounces and other embellishments to hide any unsightly bulges. Unfortunately, her efforts back then to minimize them had only exaggerated them, now, it was different.

Julius had left her a generous allowance, affording her to travel, build or purchase anything she pleased, but Louisa had refused to dip into it much, only with one exception: a full set of gowns, and riding habits from an accomplished modiste.

"Thank you, Julius," she whispered to herself.

Thinking of him reminded her that it had been two days since she had sent him the letter addressing his affairs, but she had not gotten a word from him yet.

I suppose he is off doing better things than paying attention to me.

Her gaze trailed over to the dancefloor, Earl Wickham Cornwall, was cutting a swath through the dance floor, his copper cravat and waistcoat bright against his dark suit. He was charmer and a favorite of the ladies, on the dancefloor and, if word was to be believed, in the bedroom and she reminded herself to keep a keen eye on the debutantes there.

Another couple caught her eye as they whirled around the room, their shared laughter eliciting looks from the others around them. Marquess Portland and his wife, Elosie, a charming girl.

As if summoned, her gaze flickered to a gaggle of ladies posted by a nearby potted palm, their fans poorly hiding their whispers and—by their fleeting looks to her—she was the subject of their gossip.

Whatever they were saying, she didn't much care.

Louisa had heard it all before.

She didn't know what she had done this time but by the morrow, it would be taking points at everyone's breakfast table. She sipped her champagne, sighing internally when it tasted flat to her tongue. Without rhyme or reason, the back of her neck pricked with gooseflesh and a hush fell over the room.

"Ahem," Mr. Sawyer announced, "May I present…. Duke Blackwell, Julius Compton."

All chatter in the room vanished and only the soft music from the orchestra stayed in the air. Her eyes swung upward to the top of the stairs and while her chest suddenly felt caged in a bar of iron; disbelief made her skin cold, but there he stood.

His elegant midnight tailcoat clung lovingly to his broad shoulders and lean torso, his trousers skimming his narrow hips and muscular legs. Louisa jerked her gaze back up to his face and noticed the curious hollows beneath his eyes and cheekbones. His hair was a trifle long, the thick dark waves curled at his nape and gleamed beneath the chandelier.

Lines etched on his brow and around his mouth told her had made a habit of frowning. She remembered the strong slant of his cheekbones and chiseled jut of his jaw but his eyes—they held shadow and light.

"Well, well," someone murmured dryly. "Is it not the elusive duke himself. Why has he returned, I wonder?"

Her first instinct was to turn and walk away but she stopped, took a glass of champagne and walked over to him. The multiple pairs of eyes digging into the back of her neck made gooseflesh prickle up and down her skin, but she paid them no mind.

Handing him the glass, she said, "Welcome home, Your Grace."

Julius stared at her, his gaze hooded, the golden light from the chandelier licked lovingly over his features, deepening the hollows beneath his slanting cheekbones and the fathomless pools of his eyes.

As she met his gaze, a quiver ran through her belly and his frank appraisal affected her breathing like a quick tug on her stays.

Gently, he took the glass, the fleeting touch of his fingertips on hers quickened her pulse. "Thank you," his gaze felt piercing,

With his free hand he caught hers and brushed his lips across the back of her hand. The tender abrasion ruffled up her spine, goose pimples prickling her skin, the tips of her breasts tingling.

"Come with me," he said quietly but she heard the steel in his words. "We need to have an overdue conversation…now."

While Julius walked them out of the ballroom, Louisa's calmy steered them up to the library; it was the most emotional neutral room she could think of to hold a difficult conversation.

She could not dare take him to her bedroom or Julius' unused but available study, because the power balance in either room was shifted to one of them, so the best place was the library.

Julius strode to a window and swept the heavy draped open and the soft moonlight that filtered in through the window cast a powerful silhouette over Julius. Their eyes met and held, creating a silent dialogue in the intimate silence.

"I read your letter and if you want an annulment, I shall give you one," he said simply.

She pressed her lips tight, "What I want is for you to stop these adulterous affairs."

"There were and have never been any adulterous affairs," Julius said flatly.

"I am not sure I believe you," she replied. "Just tell me the truth, Julius, I was not the bride you wanted so you left to find comfort elsewhere."

"What?" he blurted. "God's sake woman, no! How did that condemned idea even enter your mind?"

Notching her chin up, Louisa replied, "What else could be the reason? I was in my third year on the marriage mart with no prospects to show for it when you met me."

He paced by the window and rubbing his brow before turning to her, his expression now sedate. "The meddle-makers in the ton will do anything to tear you down, Louisa. They are professionals at spotting chinks in the armor and will target it to make it wider and shatter it completely. It would do you best not to listen to the jealous chits."

"Your absence fuels them, Your Grace," Louisa said quietly. "They call me The Abandoned Duchess.

Julius almost reached for her, but his arm dropped to his side. "Do not blame yourself. The fault rests with me."

Her head craned upward again, peering at him in an unnervingly perceptive manner. "If my appearance and manner have not disappointed you, then I need to know why you left," she whispered.

Of course she would ask.

And of course, he could not tell her; not when she was in such a fragile state. If the shock of his returning had almost undid her, what would telling her about his nightmares, the unsettling feeling of not knowing where he belonged, how unworthy he was for her, and constant battle he needed to keep the solider side of him under control.

I am damned sure a description of my unusual sexual appetites, my anger and my nightmares would send her running to the hills.

"The marriage was my fault." That much was true at least. "The pressure to marry was mounting upon me when I returned from the war. I had managed to put it off for a year but then I inherited the ducal title. I thought it would be best to marry a quiet woman, someone with no?—"

"Prospects?"

"—inclination to be as messy as other ladies in the ton do," he said, ignoring her comment, "who would not interfere with me and that a marriage of convenience would be best. I think we both know we'd rushed into this and did not make sufficient time to make a mutual understanding of how our marriage would work."

"What are you going to do about these rumors of infidelity?" she asked.

"I'll take care of that," Julius replied. "But back to the main concern, do you want the annulment?"

She covered her throat with a hand and turned away, and the silence in the room felt louder than a blast from a musket. When she turned back, her voice was soft, "When we married, I promised myself to be true to you so no, an annulment is not what I want. Not—not if this marriage can become better."

"Are you suggesting a period of…" he paused, unsure which word to say. "A marriage courtship?"

"I want to know you, Julius." Louisa stated clearly. "Then take the chance. Let me know you, my husband, about your childhood, how you grew up to be a man... everything."

He approached her and slowly caged her chin in his thumb and finger, "Are you sure about this, Louisa?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" her brows tucked in tight.

"I have ugly inside me, Louisa," he explained. "Ugly truths that might scare you, Louisa. I will agree to this period, but when it is up and you cannot bear the truth of what I am, I will set you free. I will not trap you."

"Trap me…" she echoed. "I went into this marriage knowing what it would be. I'm not trapped, Julius."

"But you're not happy either," he said harshly. Instantly, he regretted his tone and after snapping his lips together, he, in a calmer tone, added, "Do you remember that night when we first met? Truly met?"

"You mean the night I had slipped past the prisoning hold of my chauffeur and into the peony garden to make a wish up a harvest moon?" she replied. "I remember it well."

"So do I," he replied. "That night, your mask had failed you. The barbs the other ladies had levied upon you have finally broken through your barriers. You were crying that night."

"That night, you asked for a husband you could love," Julius said. "I didn't hear it, but I read your lips. I am not that man. Love was not a part of the agreement and for that, I truly do regret marrying us. You deserve a true match like any young lady who desires a happy life."

Her head dropped but her hands tightened into fists by her side, and when she looked up, Julius expected to see quiet resignation—but was met with sheer determination instead.

"And it took me a year to realize that? Is that really the reason you want this annulment, or is it something else?" Louisa asked. "What are you not telling me, Julius?"