Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

“ I think the green is a bit much,” Louisa told Anne, biting her lip.

The maid had pulled out one of her most exquisite evening gowns when she had said she wanted to dress up a bit. She didn’t mind the dress so much and would have chosen it herself, but she wanted to look beautiful without making her effort obvious.

“It is perfect, Your Grace,” Anne argued. “His Grace won’t be able to take his eyes or his hands off you.”

She giggled, causing Louisa to turn bright red as she realized the implications of her words.

Louisa still remembered the scarring lecture her sisters had given her before her wedding, and how she had indeed felt those feelings when he had kissed her so passionately that it had taken hours for her face to cool down. Even now as she thought about it, she still squirmed, feeling unfamiliar liquid heat pool in her core.

He had shocked her when he had kissed her so thoroughly, for she had only expected a chaste kiss, and she knew if they had been alone, he might not have stopped—and worse, she wouldn’t have minded.

“Any gown but the green one, Anne,” Louisa said. “What about the burgundy one?”

“Too solemn, Your Grace,” Anne remarked, wrinkling her nose.

“Let us settle on the burnt orange gown, then.”

Anne put away the green gown with a flourish, sighing wistfully, and then pulled the burnt orange gown out of the wardrobe. Her sighs quickly turned to a cry of glee when Louisa was finally dressed.

“You look absolutely marvelous, Your Grace!” she gushed.

Louisa couldn’t help but agree with her maid. Looking at herself in the mirror, she smiled at the woman staring back at her. The burnt orange gown did wonders for her figure, pushing up her average chest and giving her a voluminous cleavage that had her blushing. Its empire waistline accentuated the curve of her hips and small waist.

She had to agree that she looked so tempting.

“Thank you, Anne.” Then, in a fit of vulnerability, she asked, “Have you known His Grace for very long?”

“Yes,” Anne answered while tidying up the room. “I have known him my whole life.”

Oh?

“Is that so?” Louisa asked. “Can you tell me a bit about him? I know it’s a rather odd request.”

“Not at all, Your Grace,” Anne assured her, putting back the last of the gowns in her armoire. “Where do I start? I guess my mother had worked for the family since His Grace and his brother were children, and she told me that they grew up like any other boys—mischievous and always getting into trouble with their father.”

Louisa couldn’t help but laugh as she tried to imagine a dark-haired, grey-eyed young boy running around the estate, causing trouble.

“That is hard to imagine,” she admitted. “The Duke is always so stoic and proper.”

“I assure you, he wasn’t always like that.” Anne laughed. “He was already a young man when I came to live here with my mother, but he was still mischievous. It wasn’t until his father passed and his brother inherited the title that they both matured.”

Louisa nodded in understanding. “Did he join the army immediately after his father’s passing?”

“No, Your Grace,” Anne answered. “He had already gone through training, but he volunteered for active service after his brother inherited the duchy.”

Louisa nodded again and wiped her palms on the skirt of her dress. “Do not find it burdensome that I ask such questions. I only wish to know a little bit more about my husband so I know how to serve him.”

“I do not find it so, Your Grace,” Anne was quick to reassure her. “I do not mind your questions. If you hadn’t asked, I might have been hard-pressed to tell you.”

They shared a laugh.

“I believe I am sufficiently late enough to make an entrance,” Louisa announced.

“Indeed.” Anne smiled mischievously. “I want to see His Grace’s reaction, but my mother would scold me for being nosy.”

“I will cover you.” Louisa gave her a wink. “Walk with me.”

As they walked towards the dining room, Anne pointed out some parts of the manor that Louisa hadn’t visited yet, and she made a mental note to do so the next day.

“We should decide what the best approach should be,” Percival’s voice greeted her as she approached the dining room.

Her heart was beating a staccato in her chest as she watched for his reaction.

Her effort, apparently, was fruitful, for the second she stepped into the dining room, his eyes widened a slight fraction, showing that she had indeed shocked him. But he was quick to school his features into a blank mask.

She didn’t take offense that he hadn’t commented on her gown when his facade had cracked upon seeing her. That was a worthy enough reaction that had her blushing as she was helped into her seat by Tobias.

“Good evening, husband,” she greeted. “I trust your day was pleasant?”

She said it as a question, hoping they could at least converse as they ate, considering that she had all but forced him to have dinner with her. She was impressed that he had honoured their agreement and hoped she wouldn’t do anything to push him away.

He murmured a response but didn’t look at her, and she wondered if he was perhaps upset with her. She also noticed that her place setting had been moved further up the table such that she was sitting beside him, and she wondered who was responsible for it.

“My day was pleasant,” she continued as she unfolded her napkin and laid it on her lap. “I hope you enjoy the menu I came up with today. You could use a change in your diet.”

He didn’t say anything, and she frowned as her ire flared. Why had he come if he was going to be stubborn about it?

“If you would rather starve yourself in your study, then be my guest. But if you’re going to sit at this table with me, then I expect you to keep your sour mood outside the room so I can enjoy my meal in peace,” she sniffed, setting down her cutlery with more force than she had intended.

She noticed Tobias’s proud look and felt emboldened to scold her husband further if he didn’t listen to her.

“You’ve grown claws since we got married, wife, ” Percival muttered darkly. “I cannot say I like it.”

“If you insist on being stubborn, it is only necessary that I play your game.”

She saw a muscle in his jaw tick as he fought a smile and nodded.

“I concede this argument, then,” he said. “I will do my best to make this meal pleasant for you.”

“Good.” She nodded.

She hadn’t expected him to agree so quickly, and now that he had, she didn’t know what to say. He raised an eyebrow at her in question, and she flushed as embarrassment flooded her. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. Her only focus had been on seducing him that night.

She really did need help, but who could she ask?

The question would be too embarrassing to ask, and even though her sisters would answer, she didn’t think she could stomach any more of their lectures.

“I’ve realized that I know nothing about your life,” she stated suddenly, trying to break the tension that had fallen over them.

“You know enough,” he said, not looking at her as he cut his meat into small cubes.

“Only what is available to the public,” she argued. She was getting upset for finding herself arguing more often than she liked. “I should be able to say more about you to anyone who asks than what they already know.”

“That is unnecessary.”

“It is not.”

“I highly doubt anyone would be so curious about me.”

“Then you do not know the ton as well as you think.”

“I do. I just choose not to become fodder for gossip.”

“You will end up as fodder for gossip if I’m asked questions and find myself unable to answer.”

“Where do you think one might ask such questions?”

“At the next ball we’ll attend,” she answered. “You do remember that I have agreed to help smoothen your re-entry into Society.”

He shot her an icy look, but she was undeterred.

“You should sheathe your claws, wife, ” he warned. “You’re in no danger here.”

But she highly doubted that and told him as much.

He barked out a laugh, shocking her and everyone else in the room. He coughed to hide it, before schooling his features. She would have felt glad that she had succeeded in making him laugh, but she wanted him to take her seriously.

“What would you like to know?”

His concession shocked her, but she masked it with a smile.

“Everything.”

She knew he would only answer questions that didn’t pertain to his private life or past, and she had kept her questions shallow but still intimate enough that no one would think them anything but a happy couple.

“Have I satisfied you?” he drawled.

He had asked that question so innocently, but his words brought a warm blush to her face.

“Indeed,” she replied. “The Ritkins’ ball in two days would find us sufficiently prepared.”

He nodded, and she rose, hoping to retire early.

“Where are you going, wife ?” he asked, a teasing twinkle in his eyes even though his expression was still blank. “The deal was that we would share a meal, and I assumed you intended to feed me with your hands. Imagine my disappointment. But no matter, I took it upon myself to cover your shortcomings.”

“I didn’t think you the sort to take words so literally.”

“I’m not usually, but when it comes to you, I find that there’s really no hidden meaning behind your words.”

“Does that mean you trust everything I say?” she dared to ask.

“Not entirely.” His tone was playful, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he was flirting with her.

“In what instances would you trust me, then?”

“I cannot exactly say, but I would know when.”

“That is overconfident,” she pointed out, shaking her head and folding her arms across her chest.

His eyes flicked to her chest briefly, then back up to her face. “I would call it discernment.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of their conversation. “It is overconfident to think you are capable of discerning the truth at all times.”

“It is, but if I have memorized one’s tells, it would be easy to.”

“And have you memorized mine?”

“I do not know you well enough to have an opinion,” he answered, throwing her words back at her.

She laughed again, shaking her head.

Incorrigible man.

“Have you seen me lie, then?”

He seemed thoughtful, then nodded.

“When?” she asked. “I never lie.”

“But you just did.”

“I didn’t.”

“Do you speak the complete truth at all times?”

“I do.”

“You’re human. We’re basically a bag of lies waiting to be harnessed.”

“That is a very grim perspective.”

“It’s being realistic.”

She threw her hands up in mock surrender. “I concede this argument,” she told him. “There is no winning with you.”

They fell silent, but the atmosphere was light, and Louisa thought that she could grow to enjoy their marriage if he remained this cordial with her.

“How do you feel about pudding?” he asked suddenly.

Louisa raised an eyebrow at the sudden change in his mood and wondered if truly he was grumpy because they hadn’t shared their meal.

“Excuse me?”

“You said we would share a meal, and I intend to do so.”

“How?”

He didn’t answer but looked smug as Mrs. Owens walked in right then with a plate and set down it between the two of them.

“Pudding,” Louisa stated.

“Indeed.”

“I love pudding,” she said, humoring him.

Percival dipped his spoon into the dish and took a bite, letting it linger in his mouth a bit longer than was appropriate, his eyes shining with mischief. He was watching to see if she would balk or rise to his dare.

She gave him a smirk of her own, dipped her spoon into the dish, and took a delicate bite. He gave her a wolfish grin, but the challenge was gone from his eyes.

They ate the pudding in silence, but she couldn’t help but feel that the air was charged with things neither of them wanted to say, so she decided to start on neutral ground. She had taken time to observe the estate that was now hers by extension, and she had a lot to discuss with him.

“I was impressed by how well-kept the gardens are,” she admitted. “Considering the few servants we have, it should have been overgrown. It certainly appears to be in much better shape than the rest of the manor.”

“I owe that to Mrs. Owens,” Percival said around a mouthful of pudding. “She loves gardening and pulls Tobias along when she has the time.”

Louisa giggled, picturing the kindly butler working outdoors. She had noticed the cordial air between the two of them. “She does a mighty fine job.”

“I will relay your compliments.”

“Have you written to any contractors yet?” she asked, swallowing the bite she had taken.

“Not yet,” he confessed. “I have been quite occupied trying to investigate an entry in my brother’s journal.”

Louisa frowned at him. She was surprised by his admission, even more than the fact that he didn’t consider repairing his home an urgent matter. She had thought the former Duke’s death a closed case and wondered why Percival was still looking into it.

“What did the entry say?” she asked curiously.

She didn’t really expect him to answer but asked if only to test if he could trust her with something that important to him.

“Michael noted down that he was going to sail to the Continent to look for me,” he began. “And that is rather strange because he had no reason to. I had written to him constantly so he would know I lived. There was no reason for him to leave the estate and try to find me.”

She frowned, vaguely remembering the rumour that he had passed, but it had been fleeting and was quickly overshadowed by news of his brother’s demise. For a short while, it was rumoured that the title would be absorbed by the Crown, but Percival had arrived shortly after to claim it.

“I remember hearing a rumour like that once,” she said. “It was shortly before your brother’s death was announced.”

He looked thoughtful.

“Tell me everything you remember,” he demanded, sitting up.

She didn’t mind his commanding tone, but she wondered why he was so interested in her answer.

“It started so oddly. I heard it first at the Withers’ ball, but I can’t remember who told me, and shortly after, we noticed that your brother started drinking heavily. We excused it as him being in mourning, so it was rather odd when you resurfaced after he passed.”

Percival looked lost in thought for a moment, and she wondered if perhaps what she had said would help him come to terms with his brother’s demise.

Grief radiated from him in waves that made her stomach twist, and she understood that they had been close. If anything happened to any one of her sisters, she knew it would take its toll on her. Her hand itched to cover his if only to give him comfort, but she didn’t think he would appreciate the gesture.

“Who would start such rumours?” she asked.

“I will look into it,” he said, finally looking at her. There was still a puzzled look in his eyes, and she felt a pang of sympathy at the sight. “I thank you for your help.”

“You are welcome, but are you sure you do not need any help?” she asked. “I can understand if you’re finding it difficult to accept the circumstances of your brother’s death. If you want to talk about it?—”

“I don’t think this was included in our bargain, wife ,” he reminded her coolly, but she saw a shadow of grief cross his features. “If you want to spend more time with me, you do not have to use such means. You could just ask.”

She shook her head at him, seeing beyond the mask he wore. “I assure you, husband, if that were my goal, I would not stoop to using such dubious means,” she told him, wrinkling her nose. “I only meant to help.”

“And I am grateful, but I do not need it,” he insisted. “This is no matter to bother your pretty head with.”

She watched him, noting the slight tension in his posture and the way the mirth in his words didn’t reach his eyes. She debated whether to press him or concede and decided on the latter.

She gave him a pointed look. “That doesn’t mean I won’t expect you to inform me once you do discover something.”

He nodded, and she doubted strongly that he would tell her anything if and when he did discover something.

“You should retire to bed now.” He smiled. “You have a full day of organizing and terrorizing the staff ahead of you tomorrow.”

She rolled her eyes at him and rose from her seat, relishing the way his eyes roamed over her again. “Indeed, I do.”

She was only two steps away from the table when the boldness to ask the question she was most desperate to ask hit her.

“Should I expect you to join me tonight?”

She could tell she had shocked him from the way his body stiffened, but she didn’t know if it was a good or a bad thing. It wasn’t proper for a woman to speak so brazenly, and she hoped she hadn’t somehow painted a terrible picture of herself.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have?—”

His sudden nearness silenced the words coming out of her mouth. His entire body was tense, and she noticed his hands curling into fists at his sides.

“Percival, I?—”

He raised a hand, silencing her.

“Do not tempt me, wife,” he whispered, his voice devoid of any warmth.

As if his words weren’t confounding enough, he stormed out of the dining room as if the devil was hot on his heels.

Louisa let out a long breath she didn’t realize she had been holding and looked at the door he had just gone through, wondering what she could have possibly done wrong.