Page 18 of A Duchess in Ten Days (Icy Dukes #2)

"Well, it certainly feels that way," Lavinia retorted, folding her arms across her chest. "You've been absent for days, and now you're acting like I'm supposed to be grateful for whatever crumbs you choose to throw my way.

You can disappear all you like, Andrew," she said.

"I'm not asking for your company, nor do I expect it. I have enough to keep me occupied."

"So, why were you complaining about my absence?" he questioned. She could see a slight smile tug at his lips, but it only lingered for a second.

Lavinia's jaw tightened at his words. "I wasn't complaining," she shot back.

Andrew raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Oh? What exactly have you been doing with all your newfound ‘free time' then? Starting a book club?"

"Hardly," she replied with a smirk. "I have been working on the estate, actually. You would be amazed at how much a lady can get done when her husband isn't around to get in the way."

"Is that so?" Andrew said and smiled, leaning back in his chair. "And what exactly are you improving? The wallpapers?"

Lavinia scoffed, shaking her head. "If you must know, I have been focusing on the gardens. They could use some...care. I have also started work on some of the rooms in the estate.”

"Ah, I see." He leaned forward. “Gardens, eh? Let me guess—you have been planting a row of roses for me?"

"If I was planting anything for you, it would be a row of thorns."

Andrew lowered his head and sniffed. "It's good to see you have found something to occupy your time," he said. "At least you're not just pacing around the house, waiting for me to show up and keep you company."

Lavinia shot him a sharp look, her lips curling into a half-smile. "Oh, I'm far too busy for that."

Andrew's gaze shifted. "It doesn't matter what you do, Lavinia. I don't particularly care. You're free to entertain yourself however you see fit."

That struck a chord. Lavinia's eyes narrowed, and she felt the fire of annoyance flare inside her.

He didn't care? How could he say that to her, so casually, as if she were some passing inconvenience?

The words stung far more than they should have.

Her grip on her teacup tightened as she sat at the table, her mind working furiously.

She couldn't let him think she was just some passive figure in his life, someone who would sit around waiting for his attention, or for him to give her the time of day.

That seemed to be the notion he was starting to have and it made her stomach turn.

She was supposed to be angry at him for what he did to her, and she kept forgetting that.

No, she would show him. He had to feel her fury. He had to feel the annoyance she was feeling. The confusion. She had to make him take notice in the only way she could.

"I've been thinking about the estate," she began with a calm voice but with a deliberate undertone of something more.

"There's so much potential here, don't you think?

" She glanced around the room, as if she was seeing the place with new eyes.

"Like I said, the gardens could use a bit of attention.

And the house, well, it could definitely benefit from some renovations. A bit of luxury here and there."

Andrew's eyebrows raised, but his expression remained guarded. "Renovations?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, her voice light as if it were a casual observation. "Perhaps a new wing for the guest rooms, maybe some marble floors in the hallways...freshen up the place, make it more...inviting."

She watched him intently, but he gave nothing away. His gaze remained on his plate, unmoving.

"And, of course, the garden," she added. "I think it could be something extraordinary. A small garden maze, fountains, exotic flowers. Imagine the scent of fresh blooms filling the air every morning. It would be magnificent."

She paused, giving him a moment to absorb her words. Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, "I'm thinking of spending a rather generous sum on it all. I believe it's important to make the house feel more...alive."

Lavinia watched him carefully, but there was no reaction. His demeanor didn't change. It was as though she hadn't spoken at all. She bit back the urge to sigh, but her words were far from over.

"I think it's only fair that I make this place my own," she continued. "You wouldn't want it to feel cold and lifeless, would you? I can't imagine that would reflect well on our legacy and how the people will see us."

Her eyes narrowed subtly. He didn't seem to care. Not one bit.

Andrew cleared his throat. "You also need to pay the tenants a visit. Introduce yourself, ensure they know who you are now. If you need help, you can ask."

"Sure," was all she could say in response, giving up on her attempts to rouse him.

"About the estate," he said, studying her face. "You can do whatever you think is necessary. Just...don't let it distract you from other matters."

"Is there anything you would like to preserve, so I know not to touch anything of uttermost importance to you?" she questioned.

"As long as it doesn't interfere with my work or the running of the estate, you have free rein."

Lavinia blinked, surprised at how flat his response was. Deep down, she had hoped for something more, maybe even the smallest sign that he still cared about her opinion, but it was clear that wasn't coming. He sounded so detached, so uninterested, as if she was just another task to manage.

She pressed her lips together, fighting the urge to show how disappointed she was. She hadn't expected him to be warm and eager, but surely there should be some reaction, some acknowledgement of their situation. Instead, he sat there, distant and cold, as if he didn't care at all.

She looked down at her hands, clenching them briefly before relaxing. A dozen questions swirled in her mind, but one rose above the rest, burning on her tongue until it spilled out before she could stop herself.

"Why did you marry me, Andrew?"

The words hung in the air, heavy and unavoidable. She hadn't meant to ask...not again. But the need to know gnawed at her relentlessly, refusing to let her find peace.

Andrew stilled, his knife pausing mid-cut through his eggs. For a moment, he said nothing, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. Then, slowly, he set his utensils down and looked at her with an expression she couldn't quite decipher.

"I don't want to discuss this, Lavinia," he said in a voice that was barely above a whisper. "Please."

"But—"

Without warning, he stood up from where he sat. The scrape of his chair against the floor made Lavinia flinch. "I have things to attend to. I'll see you later."

"Later, when? She questioned. "In another week maybe? You look utterly miserable, Andrew. What do you suppose I make of that? If you didn't want to marry me, then why did you? Why did you ruin my chances with Lord Grove?"

"Please don't make me argue with you about this," Andrew said. "I know you are dissatisfied, but perhaps you can direct your energy toward managing the household. Picking fights over matters that cannot change is not going to be productive for anyone."

"Even the way you speak is different," she said and rose to her feet.

"I have matters to tend to," he reiterated. "Enjoy your breakfast."

And just like that, he was gone.

Lavinia sat there, staring at the half-empty dining table, frustration and confusion warring within her.

Perhaps she shouldn't have joined him for breakfast. She could have just gone back to her room after seeing him and avoided all of this.

Andrew had built a wall around himself, leaving her on the other side, desperate for answers she might never receive.

"Tell her then! Why is it a secret, again?"

"Because it's not that simple, Solomon," he replied.

Andrew had faced his share of challenges before.

Obstacles that tested his patience and resolve, moments so dark he feared they might consume him.

Yet, he had always found a way forward, had always maintained control.

But this...this arrangement with Lavinia was unraveling him in ways he hadn't anticipated.

It wasn't a battle he could fight or a storm he could weather.

It was a slow, gnawing madness that crept into his thoughts and unsettled everything he thought he knew about himself.

He couldn't stand the idea of Lavinia losing the confidence she had fought so hard to find, especially knowing it had been a scoundrel who had almost stolen it all from her.

He'd been the one to help her see her worth, to show her the strength she didn't even know she had, and he couldn't bear the thought of anyone or anything ever taking that from her again.

He had not slept well since the day he’d said his vows.

The nights were long and restless, filled with thoughts of Lavinia.

This was a novel feeling for him. In fact, deep down, he knew that situations like this were the exact reasons he had always avoided entanglements that required more than surface-level charm.

Andrew had been a man who thrived on freedom.

A life without attachments or obligations beyond those he chose to accept.

He indulged in fleeting companionships and avoiding anything that might tether him to a single person or place.

He had mastered the art of detachment, keeping emotions at arm's length and responsibilities to others even further.

Marriage, however, had stripped him of that carefully cultivated control.

He wasn't used to this...this constant awareness of someone else.

Lavinia was in his mind even when she wasn't in the room.

She was a puzzle he couldn't solve, a force he couldn't dismiss, and it unsettled him in a way he hadn't anticipated.

"I think it's quite simple, Andrew," Solomon insisted. "You're just complicating things. Sit Lavinia down, and tell her that Robert is a horrible man who just wanted to ruin her life."