Page 25 of A Bride for the Forbidden Duke (Forbidden Lords #2)

Chapter Twenty-Five

“ W ill you truly not join me downstairs?” Veronica asked her husband.

He looked at her with disinterest as he had every time they had passed one another in the last two weeks since their argument in the park. It was as though time had reversed, and he was back to ignoring her once again.

It broke Veronica’s heart.

“It is your ball,” he answered tersely. “I do not see why I must show my face.”

“Because you are supporting the Earl of Grantham,” Veronica said sharply. “And we agreed to do this together.”

“You seduced me into agreeing.”

“And you did not complain nor push me away.”

He paused, finally setting that heavy gaze on her properly, as though he was seeing her for the first time in days. Perhaps he had. Perhaps he was not looking through her right now, instead taking in her ball gown of the purest blue silk and lace decoration.

“You are leaving after the ball, are you not?” he asked, ignoring her comment.

“Yes,” she said tightly. “As promised.”

Is he truly not going to fight for me to stay ?

“Then enjoy your ball, Duchess.”

Veronica bit her lip, stifling her pain. She pulled back, leaving the doorway, and pressed herself back against the wall outside of the Duke’s second study up on the first level of the manor. She had already begun work on his main study, and now, she regretted every moment she had spent planning such a grand gift for him.

A heavy sigh came from the room, and she took that as a sign to walk away. He would not join her, and she would not force him to attend.

Downstairs, she prepared herself for her guests arrivals and within the hour, they began to.

She stood in the entrance hall alone, greeting her guests one by one. There were faces she recognized, faces whom she had once called friends but received no support from during her brother’s absence, and faces whom she did not like entirely but was happy they had shown.

Soon, the only faces she cared about came through the door, and Veronica’s unease from the last two weeks shifted into something lighter, more relieved.

“Mama!” she said happily. “Robert.”

The two walked in, her mother in a heavy velvet gown of midnight, and her brother scrubbed up and groomed perfectly, back into the role of the Earl with ease. He had cut his hair and shaved, presenting himself properly as he approached her.

“Duchess.” He bowed to her, a smile on his face, and she curtsied. “Thank you for hosting this ball tonight. The last two weeks have greeted me with more ease than I anticipated, but tonight’s celebration shall further solidify my place back among the ton .”

“I do hope so.” She grinned, hugging her brother.

Her mother stepped forward, embracing her. “My darling.”

“Mama,” Veronica greeted. “How was your journey?”

“Long and terrifying,” she sighed. “It seems your brother found more interesting facts to tell me about the pirate duels he engaged in while in captivity.”

“I am only trying to keep the evening light,” he laughed. “I shall leave you both for a moment and venture into the ballroom.” He bowed his goodbyes, and Judith looked at Veronica steadily.

“Something is amiss,” she guessed. “And your husband is not at your side.”

Veronica merely smiled at her mother, hoping it was not too false and bright. “Nonsense. His Grace is merely unwell at the moment. I suggested he come down later if he feels better.”

Her mama was not convinced and looked at her suspiciously. “You would tell me, would you not, if you were unhappy?”

“Of course,” she lied.

I could not burden you with my woes. Although Robert has returned, I still do not want you to worry that I have endured unhappiness for your sake .

“I am not convinced, darling, but I will have to listen to you.” She gave her a soft but sad smile, and guilt pierced Veronica.

Yet how could she share that she had spent the last two weeks lonelier than ever? That just after she had grown close to her husband, she had been pushed away with more force than ever?

Her mother moved on to let her greet her other guests, and she was glad, for there was nobody else who would eye her with such scrutiny.

More guests filtered in. Her mama’s old friend, Lady Hastings, arrived with her son. Closely following was Lord Samson and his newly betrothed. Veronica recalled dancing with him the night of the Fernwell ball. She greeted him, congratulating him on his engagement.

Then Lord Simon arrived with his grandmother, and soon, he was followed by Lady Fernwell and Evelina, the tapping of Lady Fernwell’s cane echoing in the entrance hall.

“Your Grace,” Lady Fernwell greeted, curtseying low. “It seems you have made quite a spectacle for yourself. You have come far from when you sat in my parlor discussing the Duke of Westley himself. I did not realize you had an interest in him.”

Veronica hesitated, smiling politely. “The heart changes, does it not?”

Keep up appearances. You are the Duchess of Westley still .

Evelina broke up the tension quickly by throwing her arms around Veronica. “I have missed you, Veronica!”

“Evelina.” Veronica smiled brightly. “It has been too long.”

“If you did not sequester yourself out here in the countryside, then I would be able to journey to visit your home more often! Are you to venture back to Turner Hall soon?”

Veronica was not sure. She mulled over it, not wanting to make any promises. “I am sure I shall find out His Grace’s plans for us soon enough.”

Lady Fernwell eyed her as if she knew something was wrong as her own mother had.

I do hope I have such intuition as a mother , she thought and then caught her own thoughts.

Her heart sank in despair even as she maintained her smile.

“Lady Fernwell, Lord Grantham has arrived already if you wish to see him.”

“I do indeed.” The woman’s smile grew. “Come along, Evelina. We shall make our introductions to the Earl.”

Evelina rolled her eyes at Veronica regarding her mother’s instruction and hurried along. Guest after guest arrived, and Lady Sheridan and Lady Lindbury waited next.

“You are not wearing your signature color, Lady Sheridan,” Veronica teased after she had greeted them both. “I fear the sky may collapse.”

“Oh, wicked girl,” Lady Sheridan laughed. “I did think tonight called for a change.”

Her usual favored blue shade was switched out for a beautiful lilac dress, modest and elegant. Lady Lindbury still wore green, but it was several shades lighter than the deep emerald color she usually wore.

“However, we are eager to meet the Earl of Grantham.”

“I believe he is in the ballroom with my mother,” Veronica told them. “I shall go in with you.”

For her husband was not coming down, and the guests had all arrived, and Veronica did not want to be alone tonight. So, she joined the two women and lost herself in the full ballroom, happy to see so many people inside Westley manor for once.

She lingered by the drinks table as Lady Sheridan and Lady Lindbury spoke with her brother, and Veronica did her best to avoid her mother’s questioning glances across the ballroom.

“Duchess, you have put together a splendid event,” Lady Sheridan praised her sometime later.

Her brother, she noticed, was surrounded by many lords. All currying favor, she hoped. He was flushed and positively happy.

“Thank you, Lady Sheridan,” Veronica said.

“Although I must pose the question, where is my nephew?” Lady Sheridan asked.

“He is?—”

“Here.”

The low voice behind Veronica startled her, for she had been prepared for make more excuses for her absent husband. But now she turned, her eyes wide as she watched Henry approach through the crowd of guests. He was dressed in his dark clothing, as usual, but he wore a silk cravat that matched her dress, and her throat went dry.

I love him , she realized with a start as he fixed his jacket cuffs.

His eyes did not leave hers, and for the first time since their argument, they were not full of anger. They were intense, heavy on her, but he did not look at her with pure removed detachment this time.

I love him, and I am leaving after tonight’s ball, and he is happy for me to go.

She wanted nothing more than to stay.

However, her future could not remain in Westley manor, for her husband did not want children with her, nor even think himself capable of returning her love.

And yet she could tear her gaze from him.

And he could not look away from her. Something flickered his gaze when he looked her slowly up and down, as if he had not truly seen her before in his study. Now, he undressed her with that look on his face alone.

The spell broke at Lady Sheridan’s clearing of her throat.

“Lady Sheridan,” Henry greeted, turning to his aunt and finally joining Veronica’s side. She fought the urge to move closer. “It is good to see you.”

“It is good to see you,” she said, unimpressed. “But why were you not here to greet your guests alongside your wife?”

Henry tensed.

He must despise that I am his wife now , Veronica thought. He must resent ever offering to marry me.

“I was slowed down with work,” he said. “Estate matters. It is settled now.”

She tutted. “Next time, you must take the evening away from work to host these engagements together.”

He nodded curtly, dipping his head. Veronica could not bear it. She ached to be near him, but that was a hard task when he sent her heart wildly racing with a mixture of unease, nerves, and attraction. She could not consider how she loved him while he wanted nothing to do with her after tonight.

“Excuse me,” she murmured. “I must speak with my mother.”

But before she could leave, the music began to swell. Violin strings sang, and a flutist began a slow, melodic tune.

“Oh!” Lady Sheridan cried. “Henry, you must ask your wife to dance. You are the honored hosts, after all. It is the least you can offer Her Grace after leaving her for your work tonight.”

He is leaving me for greater reasons than that , Veronica thought dully.

Her husband glared at his aunt who encouraged him with a push towards Veronica. He stumbled, catching himself, seething. But Lady Sheridan was not deterred, far used to his scowling. Around them, guests watched as Henry hesitated.

Finally, he offered his hand. “Duchess, may I have this dance?”

His eyes met hers. His brow twitched as though it pained him to ask.

Veronica nodded and slipped her hand into his. It was the first time they had touched in two weeks, and the shock of it went through her. In silence, they walked onto the dance floor as the music spun a tune around them.

He has only asked to avoid whispers of our marriage , she told herself. He does not truly wish to dance with me.

Her hand pressed to his, palm to palm, as if in reverence to one another. They both stepped back, maintaining that point of contact before drifting forwards once more. Veronica’s breath caught; Henry’s gaze never moved from hers. She was caught up in his spell, and every second of it hurt.

Do you see me ? she thought. Do you see my pain? My longing? Do you not crave me any longer ?

Her chest hurt unbearably as they rotated around one another, their steps careful and deliberate. He danced excellently, fluid and strong, as she knew he would be. Her hand brushed his shoulder, and his went to her waist, pulling her flush against him as they made larger circles on the dance floor. Their guests moved back, forming a barrier for them to have space to dance within, nobody else daring to interrupt yet.

The ballroom faded around Veronica as she danced beneath the candlelight above, under the weight of her husband’s attention.

Slowly, that hard look in his eyes began to melt, as if he could not keep a grip on the facade he threw up defensively. He grazed her palm with his fingertips, the touch sending shivers through her, even through her satin gloves.

They swayed and circled, drifted and stepped. She wanted him. She missed him. There was nothing more she wanted than her husband and the normalcy they had begun to find before their argument. She wished for a beautiful future with him and nights where their bodies did not part once, and their hands could not stop searching, wringing desire from one another.

Veronica ached deeply for Henry.

The space between them lessened, and yet there was still too much distance to cross easily.

“Will you not say anything to me?” Veronica asked, her voice covered by the beauty of the music.

“There is nothing left to say,” Henry answered, and the softness she had thought she glimpsed vacated his face.

That impenetrable mask returned, setting his mouth tight.

“That is truly how you feel?” she asked, despair creeping through her.

“Yes.”

She inhaled sharply, holding back her tears.

His hand loosened on her waist. They continued dancing, and when the music ended, she did not curtsy. She pulled away from her husband hurriedly, pushing her way through the crowd. A voice tugged her back, but it was not Henry’s.

Veronica turned on the outskirts of the ballroom to face Evelina.

“Veronica,” she said, alarmed, “are you quite all right? Do you wish to go somewhere quieter and speak?”

“I am well,” Veronica lied. “Merely… weary from organizing such a grand affair. I only need some air to calm down.”

“I can come with you,” Evelina offered, her bright eyes twinkling with concern.

“Do not worry yourself. Please return to the ball. Many eligible men are here tonight, and they would all be fortunate to be your suitor, dear Evelina. I shall return shortly.”

She gave her friend an encouraging nod then she pulled away before Evelina could call her back.

She all but ran down the main hallway, past the staircase, and through to the back of the house where she emerged into the back gardens.

Hurrying to the nearest bench, Veronica collapsed onto it, and her emotions rushed out of her. Her chest eased, but she sobbed into her gloved hands.

“You foolish, foolish thing,” she chastised herself through hitching breaths. “How could you fall for him? He cannot love you. He does not wish to love you!”

Veronica let herself cry in solitude, listening to the faint music coming from the ballroom. The night air snaked around her, and she shivered, wishing she had Henry’s warmth to surround herself with. But the brief time she had gotten such warmth was over now.

Veronica had a feeling she would be left out in the cold for a lot longer.

“How unfortunate it is to find you out here all alone, Your Grace .”

A man’s voice had her sitting rigidly upright, her eyes scanning the darkness.

Somebody stepped out of the shadowed alcove of the manor, a sly grin on his face.

Lord Barwicke.