Page 21 of A Duchess in Ten Days (Icy Dukes #2)

His words struck her in a way she couldn't quite explain.

There was an undercurrent of something deeper in his voice that Lavinia had not heard before.

Concern, frustration, perhaps even something else she didn't dare name.

She swallowed hard, torn between frustration at his sudden interference and a warmth that spread through her chest despite her best efforts to suppress it.

Overwhelmed, she stepped away from him and cleared her throat. "I'll finish up quickly and retreat to my chambers."

"You're coming inside now, and that's final. Fredrick can take care of the garden."

Lavinia's chin tilted upward in defiance, a spark of determination lighting in her eyes. "I'm not finished yet, Andrew. This garden has been neglected for too long, and I intend to see it done properly."

He clenched his jaw, his frustration palpable. "You can't possibly think this is worth risking your health over. It's freezing, and you have been out here far too long already."

"I'm perfectly capable of deciding what I can handle," she replied sharply. "And I'm not risking anything. It's just a little cold."

"Let's go inside," he said calmly.

Lavinia stared at him, half expecting his frustration to turn toward her spending, the extravagant changes she had been making to the estate, the money she had so brazenly poured into renovations and frivolities.

Surely, this would be the moment he called her out, accused her of recklessness not just with her health but with his coffers.

Yet, to her surprise, he did not say anything in that regard.

"No," she answered plainly. "I'm not finished here. I don't think it is fair that you can interfere with my activities like this."

Andrew's gaze hardened. "You're impossible."

"And you're insufferable!" she shot back.

That was the breaking point. Without another word, Andrew strode forward, bent down, swept her off her feet and into his arms as if she weighed nothing.

She first let out a gasp in protest, her hands instinctively reaching out to steady herself, and they landed against his chest..

.firm, solid, and radiating warmth even through the thick fabric of his coat.

Her pulse quickened at the realization, and her breath hitched as her fingers briefly brushed against the hard planes of his chest.

"Andrew, put me down this instant!" she demanded, her voice betraying a tremor of disbelief rather than indignation. But he didn't respond, his jaw set and his grip unwavering as he carried her toward the house, the strength in his arms both alarming and...intoxicating.

Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, her heart fluttering against her ribcage.

It wasn't just the physical closeness that unsettled her, but the fact that no one—no man—had ever handled her with such a mix of authority and care.

The sheer certainty in his movements, the ease with which he held her, left her momentarily speechless, torn between mortification and a strange, unfamiliar warmth that crept through her chest.

For the first time, she felt the stirrings of something she'd only ever associated with love. A fluttering vulnerability that left her entirely unprepared.

The warmth of Andrew's study hit Lavinia instantly the moment they passed through the door. The fire in the hearth crackled softly, its glow illuminating the richly paneled walls and casting flickering shadows across the room.

Without a word, he crossed the space and gently lowered her onto the plush leather couch near the fire. She opened her mouth to protest, but the resolute set of his jaw silenced her. He straightened and pulled off his coat in one swift motion, draping it over her shoulders before stepping back.

Lavinia shivered, not from cold, but from something she couldn't quite place. The scent of him clung to the fabric, stirring an inexplicable tightness in her chest. She gripped the edges of the coat, resisting the absurd urge to bury her face in it and breathe him in.

Andrew knelt in front of her, his large frame blocking out the firelight for a moment as he took her chilled hands into his.

His touch was gentle, but warm enough to make her shiver again, not from cold, but from the confusing emotions swirling inside her.

She was tempted to pull her hands away from his grasp, but she couldn't.

She didn't want to.

The room fell into silence, the only sound the occasional pop of the logs in the fireplace.

Lavinia stared at their joined hands, her breath hitching at the sight of his fingers slowly rubbing warmth back into hers.

She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze, not when her heart was fluttering so wildly in her chest that she feared he might hear it.

Her cheeks burned, the sensation spreading down her neck and making her feel unbearably self-conscious. Why did this feel so different? Why did the simple act of his hands on hers stir something she didn't quite understand?

"You shouldn't push yourself like that," Andrew said softly, his voice low and almost...tender. "It's too cold for you to be outside like that."

Lavinia finally lifted her gaze, her eyes meeting his with an intensity that surprised even her.

"You've been avoiding me, Andrew," she said to him, feeling so completely vulnerable in that moment that she couldn't help but bare her heart to him.

"Ever since we married, you've barely looked at me.

It is as if you regret marrying me, but what I don't understand is why you even did it in the first place if you didn't want to from the start. "

She tried to keep her voice from trembling, but the words came out sharper than she intended. She hadn't meant to ask—hadn't wanted to put herself in the vulnerable position of needing to know. But it was like an itch that wouldn't go away, and now that it had been scratched, it burned painfully.

"Why did you marry me, Andrew?" she asked, peering into his eyes.

His eyes locked with hers, and for a moment, the tension in the room seemed to thicken, the air between them charged with something new. Andrew's lips curved into a half-smile, a teasing glint flickering in his gaze.

"Well, well," he said, his voice soft but laced with a teasing edge. "You can hold eye contact much better now, can't you?"

"I'm not playing games, Andrew," she replied, her voice firm, even though her pulse raced beneath the surface.

Andrew went silent, his eyes drifting away from hers for the first time in what felt like an eternity. His grip on her hands loosened, and he gently pulled his fingers away, as if releasing a tether that bound them both.

He moved to sit across from her, his posture rigid, and his face remained unreadable. For a long moment, the room was thick with the silence between them.

"Robert...he wasn't planning to marry you, Lavinia. He was not a good person." Andrew's voice was low. "He is not a good person."

Her brow furrowed in confusion, and she blinked rapidly as if she had misheard him. "What do you mean?"

Andrew leaned forward slightly. "He had his plan, you see and I happened to find out.

He promises women marriage only to bed them.

He's a man who understands power in the wrong way.

He knows that no woman will ever speak of what truly happens in the dark.

No one would dare accuse him in society.

They would be shunned, ruined by their own shame.

He found the perfect way to ruin someone's life without consequence. "

"And...you're saying he wanted to do that to me?" she whispered.

"Yes," Andrew answered, avoiding her gaze. "He told me himself."

Lavinia sat back, her mind racing as she tried to fully grasp Andrew's words.

Her body seemed to freeze as his words settled into her chest. She had sensed that Andrew's proposal had something to do with Robert, but she had never imagined it could be tied to such an outrageous scheme.

Her eyes flickered to his face, searching for something more, something that could make sense of the chaos in her mind.

Her lips parted slightly, her voice soft but still filled with disbelief. "So...in a way, you saved me?" she asked, titling her head to the side.

Andrew didn't answer immediately. His eyes held hers, studying her, perhaps weighing her reaction before he spoke. "Lavinia, it wasn't pity. I would hate for you to think that it was."

Lavinia shut her eyes. "Andrew —"

"I couldn't let him do it," Andrew interrupted, his voice hardening with a sudden fierceness.

"He was only going to take advantage of you, Lavinia.

I couldn't stand by and watch him ruin your life, make you a pawn in whatever sick game he was playing.

He wasn't interested in marriage, not at all.

He was just looking for a way to ruin you. "

"And you had a responsibility to make sure that it didn't happen?"

"Lavinia —"

"I'm not upset, Andrew," she said to him. "Now that I think about it, his promises were too good to be true."

"I'm sorry I kept it from you," he said and looked up at her. "I just..."

"Didn't want to hurt my feelings?" she asked with raised eyebrows. "Why? Why are you so concerned about hurting my feelings, Andrew? Why did you take it upon yourself to save my reputation when I nearly trapped you in a marriage?"

Andrew's gaze softened as he struggled to find the right words.

"You didn't deserve what would have happened with Grove, and I.

..I couldn't let that be your reality. I cannot explain it more than that, Lavinia.

Marriage might have been the last thing I ever thought I would do this season, and I suppose I am still adjusting to the idea of it, but I made the decision to marry you and I stand by it. "

Lavinia remained silent for a moment, letting his words settle in her chest.