Chapter 6

Chapter Six

"I truly do not understand," Nancy told the housekeeper, Mrs. Silverstone, "how can someone despise dogs so much. I thought that lords adore their hounds. At least that's the way my father was."

Mrs. Silverstone walked beside her and Dash along the long hallways of Wexford Castle after a long day of running errands. Although she was also reluctant about Dash, she had grown far more accustomed to him than the Duke.

Goodness, she was so perplexed after their interaction the night before. She herself was surprised by the fact that she'd blurted what she had, but what took her aback the most was how the Duke had finally shown some interest in her.

The way he had gazed at her… It had not felt invasive, in spite of her state of undress—because that was the first time her husband had seen her in so little clothing. On the contrary, she welcomed it. She wanted him to look at her.

And she had looked back at him, of course. She immediately recalled that a number of buttons on her husband's shirt had been undone, giving her a good view of his toned chest and torso. His hair had been messy in a way that seemed artfully done, and somehow, he looked even more handsome than he had on the day of their wedding.

"His Grace has his reasons, I am afraid," Mrs. Silverstone's reply brought her back to the present.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Mrs. Silverstone sighed, "I do not know if it is my place to tell, Your Grace."

"Tell me what? Do you mean there is a reason the Duke dislikes dogs?" she asked, stopping in the middle of the corridor, and Dash halted right next to her.

From the way Mrs. Silverstone reacted, Nancy could detect there was indeed a reason.

"Please, Mrs. Silverstone. Tell me. I truly wish to understand His Grace better," she urged.

Mrs. Silverstone sighed again, "I really do not know, Your Grace…"

"I assure you that you will only be helping me by disclosing this information. The more I know about the Duke, the smoother this marriage will go," Nancy persisted.

The housekeeper stared at her for a moment, her hesitation etched all over her aged features.

"Very well," she finally said and her eyes darted to each side of the hallway.

Then, she motioned Nancy to come closer, and Nancy immediately obliged.

"What you said about lords loving their hounds is true, Your Grace. But it was true for His Grace's father," Mrs. Silverstone began in a hushed voice, "You see, the late duke had several hounds when he was alive, for hunting purposes. He kept the dogs by his side most of the time he ventured outside the house. But… Well…"

"What is it?" Nancy frowned, dreading to hear what came next.

"His Grace's father was a strict man. Very, very strict. Whenever His Grace behaved out of line, according to his judgment, he… He made his hound go after His Grace," Mrs. Silverstone said and Nancy's chest clenched with sadness.

"He made his dogs chase his son?"

Mrs. Silverstone nodded, "Yes. Although His Grace was fast, even as a boy, he couldn't always outrun them. And when the hounds caught up to him… Oh, Your Grace, I am so sorry!"

Tears welled up in the housekeeper's eyes and she dabbed them with a handkerchief.

Nancy's mouth fell open in shock.

"He… he was injured often?" Nancy whispered.

The housekeeper nodded, her lip slightly trembling as she clutched on her handkerchief, "We could not stop him, you see. He was our master. You must understand, Your Grace. I wanted to help His Grace desperately, to shield him from the attacks, but we were all ordered by his father not to. I could not, I could not?—"

She then burst into sobs and all Nancy could do was hug her. Even little Dash whimpered, looking with his big, innocent eyes at the weeping housekeeper.

It all made sense now; the coldness, how decidedly against Dash the Duke was… It was because of his father's cruel treatment.

By the heavens, how could someone by so cruel? Nancy wondered, devastated now that she knew the truth.

"I understand, Mrs. Silverstone. Please, do not blame yourself. It was out of your hands," she said, trying to soothe her.

"Please forgive me, Your Grace. I did not mean to react this way," Mrs. Silverstone said between sniffles as they both pulled away, "But I cannot help but feel that His Grace will never forgive any of us for that."

Nancy frowned, "I am certain His Grace knows that you could not intervene. Please do not burden yourself with guilt, Mrs. Silverstone."

"You are so kind, Your Grace. Thank you. I hope you are right," the housekeeper said and blew into her handkerchief.

"I am. Despite his misgivings, His Grace has shown kindness too, when it matters," she responded, remembering how swiftly he had taken care of her family after she'd told him about their issues.

Yes, he was curt with her most of the time, but for a man that was tortured by his own father… The Duke was not so bad.

"We are very lucky to have you, Your Grace. Under other circumstances, he'd have never tolerated Dash's presence," Mrs. Silverstone said and lovingly looked at the puppy, "I think you might be able to soften his pain."

"I hope so, Mrs. Silverstone. And thank you for telling me the truth. It has certainly cleared the picture," Nancy responded.

She sighed next.

Easing her husband's pain? That was a feat indeed. At least now that she knew more about him, perhaps she could approach him in a more appropriate way.

The question was, how?

* * *

"I think I will go for a ride today," Richard informed Ernest over breakfast.

"An excellent idea, Your Grace. The weather today is certainly lovely enough," the butler responded. "I will inform the stable boy to prepare the horse right away."

Richard barely heard the second half of Ernest's response, the mention of weather reminding him of the conversation he had with Nancy at the breakfast hall.

She had been on his mind a lot lately, plaguing his waking hours and stealing his sleep.

It was quite alarming, how even though he had been fortunate enough to have met several women over the course of his life, and he had been able to have intimate relationships with them, the mere sight of his wife in her nightdress had filled him with such burning desire.

He wanted her so much he ached at the thought of her.

And with how their relationship was, where things stood between them, the odds of him getting what he wanted were slim. Additionally, he knew it would be a bad idea to involve himself with her in that way.

There was something about the way she got under his skin easily, how she left imprints in his mind without even touching him, that proved just how terrible it would be if he dared to go further.

Right after breakfast, he went on his ride, thankful that he could relish in the flow of wind against his skin. It felt… freeing to be doing this again. He had not ridden as much after William's passing, unable to even face the paths they had ridden together, the stark reminders of what he had lost like salt on an open wound.

Richard was not sure how long he had ridden, but, eventually, he had felt as though he had taken in enough of the scenery to last him the next few months and returned to his estate.

On his way back to the stables, he spotted Nancy, sitting under a tent that shielded her from the sun while she clapped and cheered for Dash as he ran around with a man he assumed was the trainer.

Richard frowned at the sight, caught off guard by how relaxed and at ease his wife looked.

He had never seen her appear so at ease, the flush on her cheeks visible from where he stood.

With the frown still etched on his face, he handed the reins of his horse back to the stable boy, nearly marching up to where Nancy was seated.

But what would he say? What would be his reason for approaching her?

Not to mention, her beast was running wild, seemingly having the time of his life.

As though he had sensed that Richard was thinking about him, Dash turned in his direction, immediately running towards him.

Although the dog was so much smaller than the hounds his father used to have—Richard knew that, was aware of it deep down in his mind—his legs ceased to function, keeping him rooted in place as the little ball of fur bounded over to him.

"Dash! Stop!" Nancy called out.

With only two feet of distance left between himself and the beast, Richard could already feel the phantom pain of teeth biting his ankle.

But it never came.

Because as soon as the command rang out in the air, Dash came to a stop. He trotted around a spot and eventually sat down on his haunches, staring up at Richard with an innocent expression.

It was in the stillness of that moment that Richard realized how fast and hard his heart was beating—he even felt the tremors in his head.

"I am so sorry, Sir. We are still trying to get him to stay still, but because he is so young, his attention often wanders. Are you all right?" the dog trainer asked.

Richard heard the explanation. He heard the question that followed right after, but he couldn't bring himself to speak and assure the man of his well-being. His jaw had clamped shut in fright, a habit he had developed as a child which he had expected to outgrow, but he apparently never did.

"Your Grace."

He shifted his gaze to his wife, his hands twitching as she held them in hers and led him away from Dash and his trainer.

"Breathe," she told him softly, her grip on his hands warm and somehow gentle.

Richard inhaled shakily and much too fast because he choked a moment later.

"Your Grace, please," she said in the same tone as he tried to catch his breath. "Slowly, breathe."

He tried again for her—because she asked. And it was easier for his lungs to accept the air and expel it moments later. He repeated it again, once, twice, eventually feeling more settled in his skin.

"I am sorry. That must have been terrifying?—"

"It was not," came his curt, gruff reply.

"It is all right if it was?—"

"Stop!" he snapped through gritted teeth, yanking his hands out of hers. "I am fine."

She pursed her lips and nodded. "If you say so."

He glanced back at the trainer, noting how the man kept glancing in their direction even as he fastened a collar that was connected to a leash around the puppy's neck.

"Tell your trainer that he needs to put in more work to get that thing under control. What happened last night should not happen again."

"I am sorry. I had not realized that he had snuck out of my room?—"

"We had an agreement. You can keep that beast, but I do not want it anywhere near me. Do you understand?"

He expected disagreement. He expected that bold defiance to make an appearance, wondering if he had enough strength within him to hold his own weight in an argument.

All she did was nod and sigh. "I understand."

There was nothing more he felt he had to say, no reason for him to linger before her.

So, he nodded back, turned around, and went back to the castle, desperate to put some space between them.

* * *

"That was the Duke?" Martin squawked in horror. "I-I called him Sir ! Oh, no—I have never met him, so I had no idea?—"

"It is fine. I am sure he will not hold it against you," Nancy assured him quickly, only half certain about that.

She hardly knew what to expect from her husband when it was just the two of them involved. He remained as unpredictable as he had since the day they had gotten married. And with absolutely no progress in their relationship, she feared he would remain a mystery to her for much longer.

"Are you certain, Your Grace? He seemed a little… unwell earlier," Martin pointed out.

Nancy pursed her lips, not wanting to divulge a story that was not hers to tell but still wanting to put Dash's trainer at ease.

"He… doesn't do well with dogs. He does not like them at all."

"Oh!" Martin exclaimed. "And Dash charged at him like that… He must have been stunned."

That was certainly one way of putting it.

"Which is why I am intent on Dash being properly trained. I want… I want my husband to know that Dash would never hurt him. To feel safe around Dash—perhaps even befriend him. I would really like them to get along, but that might not work if Dash is still not as well-trained as he could be," Nancy said.

She could not quite put her finger on the moment she had made the decision to help Richard overcome his fear of dogs, but that was suddenly a plan in her wheel—one she was intent on seeing through till the end.

And remarkably, Dash seemed to adore Richard immensely already if the situation that had transpired earlier was any indication.

Staff members had passed by the lawn during Dash's lessons, but he had paid them no mind. However, when he spotted the Duke, he did not hesitate to run over to him. The night before as well, rather than wait for Nancy to come looking for him or simply use his newfound freedom to play around the castle, he had gone to Richard's room instead.

She forced her attention to turn back to Dash, who seemed to like her husband a lot—but his fondness for the Duke could get him into trouble.

"I understand, Your Grace. We will certainly attempt to fix that," Martin said.

"Thank you, Mr. Aldridge, for entertaining my questions and concerns. I am truly grateful." Nancy smiled at him a little, shifting her attention to Dash, who bounded to her, possessing far too much energy for his small body.

"Anytime, Your Grace."

Nancy nodded in appreciation, holding onto Dash's leash.

Next, she turned to Dash and tugged on his leash to encourage him to move, just as his trainer had shown her earlier that day.

"Come along, Dash. Let us go for a walk."

* * *

Richard watched from a window in his study as the dog trainer tossed a ball forward, clapping with a pleased expression as Dash brought it back to him with excited leaps.

The man handed the ball to the Duchess next who nodded as he explained something to her, motioning for her to step forward.

It was hard for the Duke to pay attention to much else when his eyes had found his wife.

She was so… radiant when she smiled, the loose locks of her golden hair flowing in the wind. Although she was far away, he was able to notice that her skin glimmered with sweat.

He watched as she took her hand and wiped the sweat off her forehead. When she did the same for her long, alabaster neck, Richard's skin tingled, his mind racing back to the night her dog wandered to his door.

Her chest rose and fell the same way when he had approached her, when they were barely a step away from each other.

Damn, he wanted to rip that dress from her and see that glorious chest of hers. To bite and suck on it until she begged him to go lower…

"What in the world…" he mumbled to himself, wondering how she had managed to arouse him so easily again.

Nancy tossed the ball like she had been shown how to and clapped happily when Dash retrieved it swiftly and returned it back to her.

It was curious how gentle she had been with him earlier, how understanding. Previously, she had shown her annoyance at his dislike for Dash. But back then, she was able to see how upset the hound had gotten him.

She had even helped him find his breathing again.

Was she able to see through him that easily? How did she even manage to do that all of a sudden?

Unless…

Before he could finish his though, he saw her lean forward to pat her dog affectionately, and then she glanced upward.

Her gaze met Richard's.

He expected her to look away immediately, but instead, she smiled softly, lifting a hand to wave slightly. He stood still, pinned by her open stare.

Slowly, he felt his own hand come up without his permission, but he quickly stopped it and moved away from the window, ignoring the spark of lust within him as he settled behind his desk to get some work done.

Still, all he could think of for hours after that was her, tangled up in the sheets of his bed.