Page 16 of A Duchess in Ten Days (Icy Dukes #2)

Andrew's eyes shifted toward her briefly before flicking back to the floor. His jaw tightened.

"This is your role now, Lavinia," he began, his voice flat but steady.

"You are my wife. You will have a maid to see to your needs.

The housekeeper will show you the estate, explain your duties here.

Really, this is no different from what you had before, only now there's a title attached to it.

You will oversee the household, make sure everything is in order.

There will be events, gatherings to attend, people to meet. .."

Lavinia stood frozen, unable to believe her ears.

It wasn't the cold indifference that hurt the most, it was the emptiness of it all, the utter lack of connection.

She had foolishly hoped that perhaps there was more to this, a deeper reason he had to infringe on her life like this, knowing what she truly wanted, but it didn't seem like it.

"Andrew, that isn't an explanation," she managed to say.

Andrew took a step toward her, his voice softer now, though no more compassionate. "You will be expected to fulfill your duties as a wife," he continued, as though this were all a matter of fact. "I do not expect you to understand now, but you will learn. This is how things must be."

He took a step back, distancing himself again, as if the very proximity to her was suffocating. "It's done," he said flatly, his voice devoid of the emotion she had hoped to hear. "What's important now is that you understand your role, Lavinia."

"My role?" she questioned. "Do you truly think that I want to talk about my role right now?"

"You'll find that the housekeeper, Mrs. Fortescue, is exceptionally capable," he said and cleared his throat. "She will introduce you to the staff and explain your responsibilities as Duchess. If you have questions, address them to her."

Lavinia's eyes widened and she scoffed. "Mrs. Fortescue? Is she the one I should ask why my husband cannot bear to look at me? Or perhaps she can explain why you went back on your word?"

Andrew stiffened. "This is not the time, Lavinia. We’ve had a long day. I am exhausted."

"Oh, but it is," Lavinia shot back, her voice trembling with anger.

"You gave me your word, Andrew. You promised me a chance to secure a love match, a real marriage, built on something more than...this. And then, without so much as a conversation, you went to my father, proposed, and dragged me into this sham of a union. What is this, Andrew? Tell me what is going on.”

“Lavinia—"

"Just tell me why," she pressed on.

"I did what had to be done," he said, turning to face her. "There were circumstances?—"

"Circumstances?" she interrupted, stepping closer. "You don't think I deserve to know what those are? Or why you made this choice for both of us without giving me a say?"

His gaze flickered, revealing a momentary crack in his composure. "This conversation is pointless."

"Because you have decided it is?" she pressed, her voice rising. "You won't even dignify me with answers, yet you'll stand there and lecture me about my duties? How very noble of you, Your Grace."

"You have stepped into a world where every action is scrutinized. Do you think I can afford to have my wife unprepared for that?"

"How do you propose I prepare, Andrew, when the man who dragged me into this won't even offer me the courtesy of honesty?"

He exhaled sharply, his hand raking through his hair in frustration. "Fine," he said abruptly. "Since my honesty is so important, let me offer you this. Stop letting your emotions cloud the reality of things. If you're going to thrive here, you will need more composure than this."

Her lips parted, but the anger brewing inside her was suppressing her ability to speak. "I see," she said, her voice trembling with fury. "So, my emotions are the problem now?"

"Right now? Yes," he replied coolly. “We've had a long day, Lavinia. Can we just retreat to our chambers and retire for the night?"

Lavinia's hands curled into fists at her sides, her nails biting into her palms. She wanted to lash out, to scream at him for the cold indifference in his tone. But something in his words made her pause.

She studied his face, searching for a crack in his stony demeanor. Was he truly so unmoved by everything that had transpired? Or was he hiding behind his composure, as she was starting to suspect?

"Fine," she said quietly. "If you won't explain yourself, I'll figure it out on my own."

Andrew's expression softened briefly, a flicker of something.

..guilt? Regret? She wasn't sure. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

He inclined his head stiffly. "You will have a maid assigned to you in the morning.

She and the housekeeper will show you around the estate and explain your responsibilities," he repeated.

Lavinia folded her arms, her chin tilting upward in a display of defiance she didn't quite feel. "How very efficient," she replied, her tone light and nonchalant. "I suppose I should be grateful you have thought of everything. Thank you, Your Grace. I look forward to meeting my...maid."

Andrew's lips pressed into a thin line, but he said nothing.

Instead, he turned toward the staircase as if retreating was the only option he had left.

But just as he reached the foot of the steps, he paused.

For a moment, he seemed to struggle with himself, his shoulders rising and falling with a deep breath.

Without turning around, he spoke. "I know this isn't what you wanted."

Lavinia's stomach twisted at his admission, but before she could respond, he continued.

"But this is where we are now. You will have to make do with it. I have no intention of standing in your way, Lavinia. You're free to do as you please, within reason."

When he finally glanced over his shoulder, his expression was unreadable. "Good night," he said, and then he made his way up the stairs.

Lavinia stared at the empty space where he had stood, her chest tightening with an ache she didn't want to name. His words had answered nothing and everything all at once, leaving her stranded in a sea of uncertainty.

As she stood there, lost in the quiet of the room, the soft creak of the door interrupted her thoughts. A woman of middle age with a stern yet kind expression, stepped into the room.

"Good evening, Your Grace," she greeted with a respectful curtsy. "I am Mrs. Paulina Fortescue, the housekeeper."

Lavinia blinked, still processing Andrew's words, but she nodded in acknowledgment.

"Thank you, Mrs. Fortescue," she murmured, her voice soft and distant.

The housekeeper gave a gentle smile. "I'll see to it that you're settled comfortably for the evening. If you need anything, I'm at your service, Your Grace."

Lavinia forced a smile in return before following the woman up the stairs.