Page 25

Turning to Leila, who was adjusting her dress, she said softly, “We should get in before the household wakes up. I’d rather not be seen like this.”

Leila nodded with a gentle smile. “Of course, Your Grace. After you.”

Juliet’s thoughts were clouded by the previous evening’s events as they went into the house through the back door and headed hurriedly to her room.

The grandeur of the wedding had felt like a parade rather than a celebration, and Hector’s absence during her evening meal had only intensified her sense of isolation.

As though he had been summoned by her thoughts, Juliet spotted her husband standing by the front door of their home, speaking with the butler. Moments later, the coachman joined them, and Hector involved the man in a quiet conversation.

She slowed her pace, watching Hector with curiosity and discomfort. He handed over a leather bag to his coachman and discussed what sounded like matters of a financial nature. He seemed engrossed in his business, his posture commanding as he spoke to the coachman.

His manner was efficient but as detached as he had been since they’d stepped into his home and had declined to eat with her.

Leila noticed Juliet’s distraction and gently touched her arm. “Is everything all right, Your Grace?”

Juliet nodded though her heart was heavy. “Yes…yes.”

They continued down the back corridor, the early morning stillness amplifying the sound of their footsteps.

Juliet’s thoughts were a swirl of worry and frustration. It was silly for her to avoid crossing paths with her husband, but if he wanted that, so be it.

Leila opened the door for her and then stepped aside. “Shall I fetch anything for you?”

Juliet shook her head, a weary smile on her lips. “No, thank you. I believe I just need some time alone.”

Leila nodded and took her leave, letting Juliet sit with her thoughts.

She sighed as she recalled the disappointment that had followed her wedding to the Duke. She was incapable of believing she was to blame for having expected more.

Although she had not let herself dream of anything more than a peaceful and amicable marriage, a part of her had dared to hope for at least a hint of affection.

With a frown she dropped into a settee, only to rise back to her feet because Hector had chosen that very moment to walk into the drawing room.

“Oh,” he said, noticing her. “I did not expect to see you here.”

Juliet gestured helplessly at the room. “I was simply…resting.”

Hector nodded. “I see.”

There was a slight pause then he nodded again. “Well, enjoy your rest.”

He turned around to leave, and something akin to horror and frustration flashed through Juliet.

“Is this truly what our marriage is meant to be like? Are we going to avoid each other for the rest of our lives and simply play pretend forever?” she asked.

Hector frowned as he turned to face her once more.

“I have already voiced my expectations. I do not know what you were taught in that nunnery, but I thought understanding would have been one of them.”

Juliet walked closer to him, outraged.

“For someone who offered me a comfortable life, you seem quite taken aback that I am unwilling to abide solely by your terms.”

Hector’s expression darkened.

“At the very least, I had imagined that you would be more respectful.”

“I did not ask for this!” Juliet snapped. “I didn’t ask to be married, but I was forced to, and I refuse to spend the rest of my married life walking on eggshells under the pretense that you are merely a stranger to whom I owe my comfort.”