Page 17 of A Bride for the Forbidden Duke (Forbidden Lords #2)

Chapter Seventeen

“ M y darling Veronica,” Judith sighed, embracing her daughter.

She squeezed Veronica tightly, their cheeks pressing together.

“Mama,” Veronica said, smiling brightly as they pulled back. “It is so good to see you. It has been too long.”

“I had hoped His Grace would invite me to Westley Manor, so I could see your new home, but it is no matter,” Judith laughed awkwardly.

Veronica paused as her mother walked into the morning room so they could sit down together.

“We are… in the midst of some redecoration,” she said.

It was not entirely a lie, and it was a good reason as to why there had been no invitation. She could not very admit her husband was socially-repellent, cold man, who did not care for Veronica at all, and that was why he did not entertain guests. Least of all her mother.

“Oh?” Judith’s face brightened as they sat down. “That is wonderful! How is it going?”

“Very well,” she answered. “I feel more settled into my role as lady of the house by doing it. Heavens above, Mama, you should have seen the decor in the manor! It was downright garish. You would have near fainted.”

Judith covered her mouth as she laughed. “It sounds as though you have quite the task on your hands.”

“I do indeed.” Veronica nodded. She could not admit that the task itself was not the décor, but the man who lived in the manor itself. Her gaze went around the room. “It is strange how this place still feels like home. I ought to think of Westley Manor as my home, and I do, in a way, but this is where I grew up.”

Her mother reached out to place a hand over hers. “And it always shall be. For you and for Robert when he returns.”

Veronica winced, recalling her argument with the Duke the day before after discovering he had been searching for her brother and did not tell her. And all to reduce her false hope? She did not believe that. He had admitted afterwards it was only his money he cared about.

“What is wrong, dearest?” Judith asked.

“Nothing,” she replied quickly. She did not want to tell her mother about the investigation. She truly would give her mama false hope, and Judith was not as strong as she appeared. “I merely miss Grantham House.”

“And what of your mama?” Judith teased.

“Of course I miss you mama,” Veronica laughed. “I miss you terribly. There is always gossip abuzz, and the village of Westley is positively beautiful. Although we are not able to entertain guests, I would still love for you to visit the village with me.”

“Can I truly not visit you, darling?”

“I am afraid not. At least, for now.”

I do not wish for my mama to be subjected to His Grace’s mood swings.

“Well, if I cannot visit, you must tell me about your life there! You make a beautiful duchess, and those ruby earrings look stunning on you.”

“My life…” Veronica hesitated. Is lonely. “… is perfect. I have taken to my title well, as you have taught me. There is a housekeeper, Mrs. Nelson, who speaks with me often, and I have befriended some gardeners. I have plans to have a sunroom set up, but it shall be outdoors. So I would like parasols, a table to dine upon, and some furniture suitable for the outdoors.”

Judith’s proud, beaming smile was exactly what she hoped for.

“And what of the Duke?”

Veronica paused. “The Duke… Yes, well, he is quite well. He attends to his work and visits the village. He has been sorting his affairs from the late Duke, so he has had many meetings with tenants. I am redecorating his study, too.”

“You misunderstand me,” her mother said gently. “I mean to ask what of you and him.”

Veronica knew that all along, but she had been stalling. She could not let her mother know that it was less than ideal, their marriage.

“We break our fast together,” she said carefully. It was not a lie if it had happened at least once. “And we dine together when he is not working.” Not quite a lie again. “And we visit the village together, so I am able to meet the villagers.”

“And he takes care of you?” Her mama pressed.

“Yes,” she lied. In a way.

“And treats you well?”

“Indeed,” she said. Her hands ran down the top of her skirt, smoothing it down. “He treats me well.”

“Good,” Judith said.

“But Mama, how are you?”

In the weeks she had been gone, Veronica noticed that her mother had aged even more than she had than when she was dealing with Lord Barwicke. Her eyes were tired, her hair streaked through with more gray, aging her beyond her fifty years.

“I am well,” her mother answered, and Veronica wondered if the morning room was to be full of pretty answers that morning that did not display any sort of true nature.

By now, Veronica could tell when her mother did not answer her truthfully, but Judith did not always detect Veronica.

“And Lord Barwicke,” she said, knowing she would need to be the one to bring him up, “he has left you alone?”

“He… has. He attempted to gain entry into the house the night of your wedding, knowing I was alone, of course, but our neighbors heard the commotion and came to my aid. He has not returned since, and I do not believe he shall. The last I heard there were some… well-placed rumors around Dalton Square, squandering his honor.”

“Oh, my,” Veronica muttered. “I wondered who planted those.”

Judith shrugged delicately. “I do not know.”

The two shared a knowing glance over their teacups as they drank.

“Are you truly happy, Veronica?” Judith asked, sighing. “I have the sense that there is more to your life you are not speaking of.”

“I am perfectly content, Mama,” Veronica assured her. Yet she did not know who she lied to convince: herself or her mother. “I even met with Lady Sheridan, His Grace’s aunt, the other day. So, we are becoming well-acquainted as husband and wife.”

Judith frowned. “But did you not say you could not take visitors?”

Veronica paused but recovered quickly. “She arrived before the redecorating began.”

Her mother’s mouth tightened, unconvinced. Lady Sheridan knew of the Duke’s temper; Judith was not so prepared. He had been blunt and direct with her when he informed Judith of their wedding, and that had taken her mother aback enough. Veronica did not want him to be rude to her mother more than he already had been.

“You would tell me if you are unhappy, wouldn’t you, dearest?” Judith worried, biting her lip.

She reached for a small square of chocolate cake, clearly busying herself with munching, so she did not have to worry so blatantly.

“I would,” Veronica lied.

“Because if His Grace is… treating you unfairly, I wish to know. For I cannot help feeling it would be my fault if you were now wed to a terrible man.”

“Mama, I assure you, he is not terrible, and I am not unhappy. His Grace is honest, to a very sharp point at times perhaps, but he is not unkind to me. Do not blame yourself for anything.”

“But if I had simply been able to endure Lord Bar?—”

“Mama,” Veronica said suddenly, “please do not speak in such ways. Lord Barwicke was trying to ruin both you and me. Do not think that you should have endured him. He never should have meddled in our affairs or begin to blackmail you at all.”

“But if the Duke hurts you…”

“He will not,” Veronica said. “We have a pleasant life out in the countryside that you do not need to worry about.” She gave her mother an extra soft smile. “Now, you must tell me if you got a new cook because these cakes are truly delicious.”

It was a simple enough topic that swayed her mother. And as her mama chattered happily, Veronica tried to drink more tea to distract herself from the guilt of lying to her mama in order to secure her comfort in her daughter’s future.

“Oh!” Judith said. “Evelina wished to visit you, as well. I was really hoping that I may accompany her to visit Westley Manor, so if you manage to finish the redecoration soon, perhaps we can visit together.”

Veronica’s throat closed up. “I would like that.”

The Duke shall never allow it.

Still, she missed her best friend.

“I must admit,” Judith went on, “I am surprised you have not yet thrown a dinner party in your new estate. Surely His Grace is eager to show off his new Duchess to his acquaintances and family. And we are all so very eager to see the happy couple.”

“Yes,” Veronica said. “We are… very happy. Perhaps it is something I can plan.”

The lies all tasted like ash as her heart grew heavier, knowing that none of these things were anything she could realistically look to have or do.

She fought back a sigh.

“Mama,” she spoke quietly. “When you and Papa married one another… was it a happy marriage?”

“Oh, Heavens, no.” Judith’s smile was both fond and sad. She set down her teacup and came to sit next to Veronica. “For the first week of our marriage, your father didn’t breathe a word to me. He did not even greet me whenever he walked into a room. He introduced me to others but never once spoke to me, and when he had to introduce others to me, he spoke very indirectly. We did not dine nor have tea together. We did not stroll.”

Veronica was shocked. “Truly?”

“Truly,” Judith said, smiling. “However, through such silence, I fell quite in love with him, for I saw through those gaps. I watched how he spoke in other ways. Through movement, dancing, art, books. His displeasure at suddenly being wed when he did not want to turned into an expelling of language in another way. And I learned that language until, bit by bit, I realized how we might cross a bridge to meet one another halfway. We were friends, even as husband and wife, before we truly loved one another.”

Veronica listened, enraptured. She had not known any of this. She had always thought her parents were a love match.

“Your father loved me, but it took a long time to reach that point,” Judith continued. “But when we did… Oh, Veronica, it was the happiest years of my life. He treated me beautifully once we got over those initial weeks.” Judith met Veronica’s gaze. “What I mean to tell you is that marriage is not always tenderness and intimacy. It can be hard at times, and there are many hurdles to overcome and challenges to face, my darling.”

Does she know? Can she read me better than I realized ?

Veronica mustered a smile. “It is a good thing the Duke and I are rather calm with one another. We are but a boat on very mild waters.”

“I am afraid marriage is not like that at all.” Judith gave her a knowing look. “And to convince yourself, and me, otherwise, is futile. I do not know a great deal sometimes, Veronica, but I know enough. A good, strong marriage radiates through a woman. An unhappy one is worn like a veil.”

“I am not unhappy,” Veronica insisted. “Just the other day, the Duke and I spent some time in the garden. It was very pleasant.”

Even though I fainted. And he… he carried me to my chambers .

“And we have dined together,” she continued.

Although he did walk out angrily.

“There was also the time we discussed a new blend of jam that his cook has experimented with.”

Judith gave her a withering look, as if seeing right through her. “All I am saying is that patience is a virtue, my darling. Give it time. A garden does not blossom in a week. It can take a whole season.”

And strangely, although Veronica did not admit she was lying, and her mother did not outright accuse her of it, either, they both knew that a pretty picture was not always the truth. A painter could look upon a stormy landscape and paint a sun shining, but he might never truly capture the rays as if they were actually there.

“Are you sure you cannot stay for dinner?” Judith asked as Veronica got settled in her carriage. “Perhaps we could go for tea somewhere. It is late in the day, but I wish to parade you about in all honesty.”

“Mama,” Veronica chastised teasingly. “That would be improper.”

“And? We have been the nasty talk of the ton for a while. Should a mother not get to show off her daughter who is now a duchess?”

In truth, Veronica could not deny her mother wanting to do that, but she knew it wasn’t what she wanted. She held her mother’s hand and squeezed tightly.

“I will miss you,” Veronica told her. “Westley Manor is beautiful, but I miss Grantham House. I still do not like you living here alone.”

“I shall not be alone for long,” Judith said insistently. “For your brother shall return, I believe in that. And when he does, he shall marry and take over the estate properly. And I will dine with my two children once again.”

“I look forward to that day.” Veronica hugged her once more through the window of the carriage before she sat back in her seat and called for her journey back to the manor to begin.

She waved out of the window of the carriage long after she could not see her mama.

“Back to the lonely manor,” she sighed.

And yet there was a part of her that was excited to see the Duke. It had been mere hours, but she toyed with the possibility that those hours had been spent with him missing her. That he had paced endlessly, thinking of her.

In truth, when she finally returned to Westley Manor, she found the Duke in his study, working on his ledgers. He looked up, his head still bent towards his desk, and the piercing intensity of his stare shocked through her, as always.

The Duke nodded his greeting and said nothing. Reality settled back into Veronica, and she managed a smile at him.

“I had a very nice afternoon with my mama,” she said, hoping to instigate conversation.

“Good,” he answered.

At least, there is that .

“I… I understand a little more why you did not tell me about my brother and your investigation,” Veronica said, stepping into the room an inch further. He shot her a warning look as if to tell her not to approach further, lest she disturb him. “I shall tell her soon but… you are right. False hope can hurt.”

“I do not care about hurt,” he told her. “I have asked you before to stop assigning care to my actions. I am invested in my business only.”

Veronica was not convinced. Even though he’d barely lifted his head to give her his attention, his eyes were glaringly handsome, cutting right into her and spearing her thoroughly.

“Regardless,” she said, brushing him off. “I have visited my mother, and soon, she shall attend Westley Manor to visit me. I am the lady of the house, and I should like to invite my own family to this estate if I please.”

“You will not.”

“I will,” she said firmly, not backing down. “You cannot keep on intimidating me. We are wed, Your Grace. I shall not be moved at your behest to fulfill the role of a wife you pick and choose on various days that suit you. If you shall not play at being my husband and allowing me the simple pleasure of a visit from my mother, then do not expect me to do the same when your own family visits.”

“Duchess,” he growled in warning, putting down his ledgers.

He was on his feet in a moment, walking around his desk, and perhaps Veronica wished to rile him up, so he would come to her. She wished for the power to do that. Perhaps she wished for this closeness because distance between them felt unbearable at times when everything about him was imposing. From his glare to his size, she wanted to feel overwhelmed. And she did every time he came near.

“And on the topic of playing the part of your doting wife,” she whispered harshly, “we have received an invitation to a dinner party by the Earl and Countess of Lindbury in several days.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

She matched his tone, and raised a brow at him, as if to challenge him.

“No, Duchess. We shall be declining.”

“And will you decline every invitation you receive for the rest of your days?” she questioned. “It is important we show our faces at events like this for the sake of my own family’s name.”

“I do not c?—”

“Do not tell me you do not care,” she hissed. “For you cared when you offered to marry me, so my mother did not have to keep falling prey to Lord Barwicke. And you cared when you found him trying to compromise me. So, stop pushing me away, and speak with me for one moment.”

Her insistence shocked him into silence. She saw the stun on his face as he reared back, but then he was back over her in a moment, his hand planted against the doorway next to her head. She fought back a noise of pleasure at his nearness. His presence blocked everything else out.

“I am not a sociable man,” he told her quietly. “Which you understand. I shall not smile and make pleasantries with my family while you spin happy tales for them that are fabricated for your own whim. I will not attend nor choose to spend more time with you than I must.”

But there was a tightness in his eyes, a reason why he suddenly kept avoiding her. He ran so hot and cold.

“You may avoid me if you wish,” she murmured, her eyes taking him in. “However, when you’ve tried that recently, it seems like you struggle to control your true desires. Or do you wish me to ignore those moments?”

She dared to take another step closer to him, only to receive a growl of warning. “If you wish to avoid me, Your Grace, then I look forward to meeting you in the hallway once again, whenever you are ready to erupt.”

Her heart raced with her boldness, but it worked. His face flickered, his throat worked around a swallow, and he glared at her.

“I will agree to this dinner,” he snarled, and Veronica had the great sense of being triumphant. “On one condition.”

“Yes?”

“I decide when we are to leave and return home.”

“I agree to your condition,” she told him.

He paused, as if he was about to say—or do—something else, but he thought differently. The Duke wrenched himself away from the doorway, shaking his head.

Veronica did not wait for him to be seated before she turned and went down the hallway, content with knowing his eyes would lift to the doorway, expecting her there, only to find she had gone.

It was victory enough, knowing he would look for her, and she would not be there.