Chapter 7

They rode in silence. Virtue and the Duke sat on opposite benches from one another, the space feeling far more constricted than it truly was, magnified by her husband's considerable frame. That, and the fact that the silence that occupied the carriage felt like a third body squeezed inside. It was heavy and awkward. Tense and unsure. It hovered between the two like a layer of fog, sitting on their shoulders and smothering them so that even if they had wanted to speak, it might have been impossible.

Virtue found herself unsure of where to direct her gaze. Her husband sat in the corner diagonally across from her, seemingly content to look out the window as they rode, acting as if he was oblivious to her presence... or as if he'd rather be running beside the carriage than trapped inside of it with her. She had hoped that when their journey began, he might have said something. That he might have started a conversation simply to lessen the tension that had existed since they'd first set eyes on one another. But no. It became increasingly clear that he had no intention of breaking the silence or mending the chasm that existed between them.

Closer than ever now, and having all the time in the world, Virtue was careful as she studied the man she was to spend her life with, wanting to get a better look at him without appearing as if she was staring. Positioned as he was, she could only see the side of his face that was hidden by the mask. Beneath it, where the skin met the edges, it appeared… normal. No burn marks, nor hideous scarring to speak of. This raised questions in her mind. Why wear the mask at all then? Was he simply trying to intimidate her? Or was it perhaps a physical manifestation of the barriers he intended to maintain in their marriage?

The carriage rattled along rhythmically. For thirty minutes at least, not a breath was exchanged between them, and the Duke didn't so much as glance at her. Rather, in Virtue's opinion, he seemed distinctly uncomfortable. Almost too large for the confines of the carriage, and his demeanor suggested that he would have preferred her to be anywhere but here. Was his aloofness an attempt to keep her in her shell, or could it be a sign of his own nerves?

The very notion that it was he who was nervous caused Virtue to chuckle softly to herself—until she began to think about it more. Truthfully, it was entirely plausible. What if she had completely misread him? What if he had been as unsure of this marriage as she? And what if, all he needed was a little nudge to show that this union could be more than just an emotionless transaction?

They would have to speak sooner or later and, seeing as her husband wasn't going to break the tension, Virtue decided the onus should fall upon her. She took a deep breath. She calmed her nerves. And then, for the first time ever, she spoke to him.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, her voice a timid whisper, although it sounded as if she was shouting such was the way it broke the silence.

"Hmm?" he started and pulled himself back inside the carriage. Turned his head and frowned at her as if he didn't even know she could speak until now.

"How are you feeling?" she repeated, with a little more conviction. "Are you... did you enjoy the ceremony?"

"It was fine," he responded curtly.

"It was not quite what I imagined," she tried for a light tone, only to be met with a scowl that saw her hurry to redirect. "But it was lovely, yes. Perfect, in fact."

"I'm..." He hesitated, and she could see his eyes looking everywhere but at her. "I'm glad." A beat passed between them. For a moment, it seemed as if he was going to say something else, and indeed, Virtue thought she detected the beginnings of a smile tugging at the left side of his face... only to drop as he turned back to stare out the window.

Virtue's spirits sank.

On the plus side, she was beginning to piece together a clearer picture of the man before her now, although not in the way she might have imagined. One of the prevailing rumors surrounding him was how much of a shut-in he was, which suggested that he did not socialize as much as he might. Clearly, he was a little rusty. Perhaps even shy? Not a monster at all, just someone who didn't know how to carry a conversation. Or so, she hoped.

"I must say, I am very much looking forward to seeing your home," she tried again, making sure to keep her tone pleasant. "Or, our home, as it is."

Again, he glanced back from the window at her. And again, he looked surprised that she was trying so hard to engage him. "I should warn you, it might not be what you expect."

"Oh?"

"It is old," he stated simply, his voice a deep growl that was throaty and hoarse. "And I don't entertain often. Or at all..." A chuckle followed, one that rumbled like thunder over a rocky ocean. "All that is to say, temper your expectations."

"I am sure it is lovely. And in the countryside too," she persisted. "I would wager the views are breathtaking."

"It is surrounded by forest," he said plainly. "There are no views."

"Oh..." Virtue blinked, a flicker of disappointment shadowing her features momentarily.

"But the forest is picturesque during spring and summer," he hurried, recognizing for the first time how cold and dismissive he was being, seeming to want to try harder. A small victory. "I am sure you will love it."

"That's nice," she smiled, feeling a sudden desire to reach out and rest a hand on his. She didn't, but only because she felt it might not be received. Like trying to pet a rabid hound found in the wild, there was no telling how he might react. "Perhaps you can show me sometime?"

"Show you?" His brow furrowed slightly, puzzled.

"The forest," she tittered.

"There is nothing in there to see," he grumbled. She leaned back, but again, he hurried to explain. "But yes, I am sure we shall take many strolls. The lands are as much yours now as they are mine, and I want you to know that."

"I do," she assured him. "And thank you."

Silence enveloped the carriage once more, but this time, he did not retreat to the safety of the window. Instead, his gaze remained fixed on her, those eyes of his scanning her form as if he were truly seeing her for the first time—as a woman, as his wife. Though her attire was modest, Virtue felt his eyes linger on her bosom, a hint of unspoken desire lurking behind the mask…

She shifted uncomfortably, for now was the first time that Virtue was forced to consider the other side of this marriage, that which would be expected of her once they arrived at her new home. A silly thing to admit but not once this week did she think of their wedding night, and the many nights that might follow. Suddenly, the Duke seemed much bigger than he had, a veritable giant compared to her petite frame. As his eyes lingered on her, she couldn't help but picture him on top of her, that burly frame, that monstrous body...

Her cheeks began to flush and she hurried to break the quietness with the first topic she could grasp. "Your friend," she blurted. "He accompanied you all the way from Greystone?"

The Duke's head tilted slightly, and his intense gaze finally shifted away from her body. "Lord Wellington, yes. But he will ride back in the other carriage with your lady's maid, I presume."

"Lucy," Virtue added with a smile.

"What was that?"

"Lucy. That's her name."

"You call her by her first name?"

"I do," she giggled lightly. "I have known her my entire life. She is more sister than servant, truth be told. Thank you, also. For allowing her to accompany me."

"Think nothing of it," he dismissed with a wave. "Your father suggested it, and I saw no reason to object."

"Oh..."

"But I am glad you will have someone," he then hurried. "Castle Greystone does tend to feel isolated, so having a friend around will certainly ease the loneliness." He attempted a smile, but it came off as awkward, almost forced. As if he scarcely did so naturally.

"And this Lord Wellington?" she followed up, not wanting to let the silence fall again. "He is a good friend of yours?"

"He is."

‘May I ask how you came to know him?"

A relatively simple question, she thought, but at its asking, the Duke's body stiffened, and his demeanor darkened such that she felt herself shifting back slightly as if worried he might snap. "His brother. He and I were close frie—close," he interrupted himself tersely.

"No longer?" she asked carefully.

Again, the Duke seemed taken aback by the question. His gaze turned to seek refuge in the landscape passing by the window. "No longer."

It may have been wise to leave it there. Clearly, it was a topic that His Grace had no desire to speak of. But Virtue reasoned that this man was her husband, his secrets were now her own, and if they had any chance of becoming closer, he'd have to open up to her eventually. And besides, all this small talk... it was as awkward as it was trifling. If she could just get him to open up, which she sensed he wanted to, who knew where it might lead?

"May I… may I ask what happened?"

The Duke's head swung around suddenly and she gasped, for there was a scowl on his lips now. Paired with the mask, paired with the anger behind his eyes, gone was the timid, shy man whom she had shared the carriage with just moments ago. This, she now saw, was closer to the monster the rumors had whispered of.

"You ask a lot of questions, don't you?" he growled.

"I—" Virtue faltered, her initial boldness seizing up in her throat. "I just thought... well, seeing as we are married, I didn't think there would be any harm in asking."

"Did you ever consider that there are topics I might prefer not to discuss?" His tone was sharp this time.

She pressed her lips firmly together, a spark of defiance lighting her eyes as she met his gaze in challenge. "To be quite honest, Your Grace, it appears to me that there aren't really any topics you prefer to discuss. How am I to discern between that and the subjects you deem suitable for conversation? For all intents and purposes, one might think I had married a mute."

To her surprise, this drew a chuckle from the Duke. Except, it was cold and disparaging, almost mocking. "So, it's true then?"

"What is?"

"What they say about you. I was cautioned that you might be a handful, and it seems the rumors were not unfounded."

That set a fire burning inside of Virtue, so hot that she didn't stop to think before she responded. "I could say precisely the same about you. Everything I've heard, all the whispers... it appears they were not merely idle talk. It is somewhat ironic to find that general gossip can sometimes manage to hit the mark so soundly."

Behind the mask, she saw a shadow pass over his face. "And what is it they say?"

Virtue suddenly felt a tightening in her chest, a real sense of fear that came with someone of his size and presence bearing down on her. She knew that now was the time to apologize and try to start again, but she was still smarting over his previous comment and if this was the only way to get a reaction from him, so be it.

"Oh, all sorts of things," she retorted coldly. "I could list them off, but I doubt you have the time."

"Try me," he challenged, his gaze narrowing slightly.

"That you're a monster," she blurted, the words sharper than she intended. "That you live alone in your castle, drawing unsuspecting villagers into your clutches, only to devour them like some feral beast. That you're cold, cruel, the very embodiment of evil. That the only reason you agreed to this marriage was because... because..." Her voice faltered as she saw the impact of her words dim his expression, and suddenly, she found herself unable to continue, realizing perhaps she had gone too far.

"Because I had no other option?" he finished for her, his tone biting. "Which, I suppose, speaks to both our characters."

Her eyes narrowed at that. "At least that solves one mystery."

"And what mystery is that?" He adjusted his position, the entire carriage seeming to shift under the weight of his movement.

She hesitated, knowing she was about to cross the line, but also driven by a tumultuous mix of frustration and curiosity. "Why you are no longer friends with Lord Wellington's brother. I suspect he simply got sick of being around you. One hour into this carriage ride and I find myself sympathizing with him."

Her words hung heavy in the air. As expected, she had gone too far.

The Duke lurched suddenly, as if he meant to pounce on her -- a wolf taking down a stray sheep that had dared wander into its den. She cried out and fell back, scurrying into the corner to avoid the wrath he was sure to unleash upon her. Which he didn't do, but only because she sensed he was restraining himself with every ounce of strength he had. Instead, he simply bore down on her, half standing, half crouching, leaning forward, his masked face hovering mere inches away from where she cowered. He seethed behind the mask, face turned red, body shaking, anger piqued the likes of which she could never have imagined.

"I understand that you may be upset," he growled and she could feel his hot breath on her neck. "I understand that this marriage may not be what you envisioned. But let us be perfectly clear about one thing." He gnashed his teeth, and she nodded her understanding, letting forth a tiny whimper. "You are not to mention Lord Wellington's brother to me ever again. Nor my past, for that matter. As my wife, my home is now yours, and you are free to make of it what you will. But we shall be nothing more than ink signed on ancient papers. Nor should you expect me to treat you as anything more. So do not slight me. Don't even think to try provoke me." He growled again and she shivered from the sensation.

"I – I am sorry," she said in a whimper.

"Do not push me."

"I won't," she managed. "I promise."

He glared daggers at her, his formidable body still hovering over her own. She had never felt so small. So powerless. He truly was a monster! One whose thrall she now found herself in.

As swiftly as the storm had risen, it abated. The Duke's fury dissipated immediately, and he retreated to his seat with a suddenness that left the air cold. And then, pretending that she did not exist and that nothing had happened, he turned back and went to staring out the window. And this time, Virtue chose to let him.

Her heart thumped inside her chest and her body ran hot like she had never known. In the moment, she had been terrified of what the Duke might do to her, all those rumors flooding her as she imagined the prison she was being led to. But now that the moment was over, now that he had calmed, even seeming embarrassed by what had happened, her mind strayed to a place she could never have predicted. His huge body over hers. Those large hands wrapped around her. His hips pinning her down. It should have terrified her, she knew, and yet... why this thrill of curious anticipation?

The remainder of the journey passed in unbroken silence. No more attempts at conversation. No more efforts to break through his outer shell. Virtue had pushed him to his limits once today already, and she decided that once would be enough. They were, after all, bound together as husband and wife, destined for countless days and nights in each other's company. She would have more than enough time to attempt so again. Hopefully, the next time, she might show a little more tact.

Otherwise, who knew how the Duke might react?