Chapter 28

A Difficult Decision

Beatrice stared through the sheer fabric hanging atop her bed at the pale ceiling above. She had not moved from her spot for hours, even when the sunlight had begun to creep in through the window. She had not budged when she heard the Duke stir next door, hoping he would come in and they would make up.

She did not know how that would happen. He had said some things the previous evening that had been hard to hear, and without an apology, she did not know if she could forgive him.

Get a hold of yourself, Beatrice! This is your fault, you snuck out—No, it is my fault that I got caught.

She thought back to the tavern. She had bumped into the shoulder of one of the patrons but had not been able to see below their hood. They were around the same height as her, but from the way it had felt when she had bumped into them, she was sure it was a man. He had entered the tavern after her, she was sure of that.

Then, he stared at her as she was leaving and looked down quickly when she glanced over at him.

Maybe he knew I was a woman below the hood and found it curious.

He had not come after her, he had not wanted to fight when they had bumped shoulders, and he had not followed her. She had spent enough nights outside to know when someone was following her.

What did it all mean?

She was reasonably confident that it was a coincidence. The man had not been looking at her because he knew who she was but for an unrelated reason.

That was one problem solved. With that out of the way, she could move on to the next one. She could not lie in bed all day, and the quicker she faced her problems, the better. She got out of bed and donned one of her nicer dresses. She might have dressed even more elegantly to face the Duke, but her best dresses were hard to put on by herself.

Beatrice checked her hair in the looking glass to ensure it was neat, and then she went down to the breakfast room in search of her husband.

She was glad to find him in there, midway through his breakfast. That gave her time to spend with him before he left.

She entered the room and took a seat close to him. She looked at him, but he did not look back at her. She wondered if she could lean over the table and kiss him—maybe that would make things better. But she did not think it would work. She was not in the mood for that, and he did not look as if he were in the mood either.

“I did not sleep,” she murmured.

Edwin grunted in response.

Beatrice asked the maid to pour her some tea, and then she took a slice of toast and spread butter over it. She did not feel like adding jam.

The Duke seemed to be eating his breakfast rather quickly that morning, and she was sure it was to get out of the breakfast room as fast as possible. She felt like a child who had just been scolded by her father.

Beatrice sighed. “You must let me explain.”

“Explain?” the Duke said loudly.

“Yes, explain. I know I should not have snuck out, but I did, and you must understand why. You can’t shout at me in the middle of the night without knowing everything first, and if you had given me the opportunity to explain last night, then we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

The Duke looked her in the eye. “Fine. Explain.”

Beatrice felt a little better, now that she would get to tell her side of the story, though she was not sure what that side was or if explaining would help her case in any way. She took a sip of her tea before she spoke.

“I know you have been trying to find out who is behind the article, and we both know it is Miss Jennings, even if we can’t prove it. You have so many resources, but you have turned up with nothing so far. That is not to say you will not, but she has obviously planned this well, and there might be a chance you will never be able to prove she is behind it. With things like these, time is of the essence.”

“Is it?” The Duke arched an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Beatrice snapped. “And yes, I knew you would not allow me to go out, and that is why I didn’t ask you—not that I need your permission to do everything in life. I can eat breakfast without your permission, can’t I?”

“Go on,” the Duke urged.

Beatrice looked at him curiously.

“Your explanation, not the breakfast,” he clarified.

“And it was all my fault in the first place. I don’t need someone else running around, fixing all of my mistakes. You should not have to do that for me, despite us being married. I made mistakes, and it has hurt both of us. You have done so much for me, and I wanted to do something for you. You shouldn’t be the one to fix this. I should.”

“So, you did something you knew you shouldn’t do to fix a problem that I was already fixing, and you put us all in danger, and you still think this is all fine?” the Duke asked.

“No, I don’t think it is all fine,” Beatrice said, almost knocking over her teacup. “I’m trying to apologize for what I did, but I would never intentionally put myself in danger.”

“Not only yourself,” the Duke pointed out. “If you had been caught or seen, and you might have been seen, it is not only you who would be in trouble. I have spent years restoring my family’s reputation after my father passed. He was too generous, and I had to be too ruthless, and both contributed to the mess we got into. You and I are married now, and what you do affects all of us—you, me, Mother, and Elizabeth. Elizabeth is supposed to debut this Season, and so is your sister. What are people going to think if there is another rumor about you circling about town?”

“I only wanted to fix this,” Beatrice insisted.

“And you might have made it worse,” the Duke accused.

Beatrice just wanted him to know that she did it for him, but she was struggling to make him understand. If she could go back and choose a different course of action, she would, but it was too late now. She didn’t care at all about her reputation as long as they had a future together.

She had thought they were truly coming round to each other, but what did they really have if they could not work together on this?

“I only wanted to help,” Beatrice said softly.

“You only wanted to do things your way,” the Duke countered.

Beatrice tried to keep her anger in check, but he gave no compromise. There was no appreciation for what she had done, even if she had gone about it the wrong way. How could he not see that she had done it all for him?

“And you only want things done your way,” she shot back.

“I only want things done the right way, and now I have to deal with this too. Perhaps you were not seen, but if you were, I have to fix that, and if I have to fix that, it might be too much to handle. For a marriage of convenience, it doesn’t feel very convenient now.”

That hurt Beatrice deeply. Of course, it had started as a marriage of convenience, but surely they had so much more than that now.

She could not keep her frustration in check. “We are just too different to get along.”

“Perhaps,” the Duke agreed.

Beatrice could see it now. She had been fooling herself into thinking there was more than what was in front of her. She had been dreaming, when she should have been facing reality. She had trapped the Duke.

Was he really supposed to fall in love with her after that? There was no reason for him to care for her like she cared for him.

“I will not bring any more shame to your family name,” Beatrice said coldly. “You don’t have to worry about me attending any event with you or being seen in public at all. I can’t act as you wish all of the time, so it is better not to act at all.”

“If that is what you wish,” the Duke muttered, tossing his napkin on the table. He stood up and excused himself.

Beatrice watched him walk toward the door before she said, “Perhaps it would be better if I just left. Then there would be no chance of me causing any trouble.”

The Duke stopped dead at the door and turned to face her. His expression was thunderous, and Beatrice could not see what was beneath it. He brushed his hands together.

“I don’t take kindly to threats,” he warned. “If you are so naive as to think that I would beg you to stay, you are mistaken. This is your home, but if you want to leave, you should leave. Don’t let me stop you.”

Beatrice knew she could not leave, but her pride and anger were too much.

“Fine,” she said noncommittally.

“Fine,” the Duke echoed, then left the breakfast room.

Beatrice was too stunned to cry. She sat and finished her breakfast numbly, staring off into the wall. As soon as she was done, she would go upstairs and pack her bag.

She could see now that her husband had never cared for her.