Page 25 of A Duchess in Ten Days (Icy Dukes #2)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

" Y ou are certain the duke sent this dress himself?"

Lavinia stood, frozen in front of her bed.

There, carefully laid out on the coverlet, was a gown unlike any she had ever owned.

A gown she probably would have never dreamt of wearing.

The tiny crystals used to adorn it caught the light and caused the dress to glisten like stars.

There was sliver embroidery that traced elegant patterns along the bodice and hem, drawing her gaze to every exquisite detail of it. Lavinia was in awe.

Her breath hitched, and she hesitated before stepping closer.

"Yes, Your Grace," Paulina answered. "He dropped it off this morning while you were having breakfast."

Slowly, she reached out, letting her fingertips brushing over the gown. heart fluttered, and she pressed her lips into a firm line, willing it to stop. There was no reason to feel this...excited. It was only a dress, after all.

But her mind betrayed her. For some reason, she had a much different reaction to Andrew these days.

Instinctively, she bit her lower lip, as the thought of Andrew crossed her mind. No. She couldn't allow herself to think like this. Whatever Andrew's reasons were for giving her the gown, they were undoubtedly practical.

The ball!

They had received an invitation to the Grandburys' ball just last week. Andrew must have thought it necessary for her to have something appropriate to wear. They were the Duke and Duchess of Hargrove after all. It was paramount they dressed the part.

Her eyes trailed over the dress again, but the explanation didn't soothe the knot forming in her chest. It was too beautiful. Too bold. The gown seemed to go beyond mere appropriateness. It wasn't just fashionable or suitable. It was breathtaking. Almost...romantic.

Lavinia shook her head, dispelling the thought as quickly as it came. No, Andrew was nothing if not pragmatic. This was about image, about fulfilling their social obligations with the polish and sophistication required of their title. It wasn't romantic. Nothing about their marriage was romantic.

"It is a breathtaking dress, Your Grace," Paulina added.

"It is," Lavinia whispered in response.

The gown demanded attention, and attention was the last thing Lavinia had ever sought.

It was the kind of gown she admired on others.

Like the daring debutantes who floated through ballrooms with grace and confidence, with their heads held very high, knowing that they commanded the attention in the room. The kind of gown that made heads turn.

But on her? She shook her head, an almost bitter smile tugging at her lips.

She had always preferred quieter colors.

Soft pastels, muted tones that allowed her to blend into the background.

They made her feel safe, invisible in a world where she often felt she didn't belong.

This gown was the antithesis of that. It was made to be noticed.

..to be admired. And she simply wasn't the kind of woman who wore gowns like this.

In her mind, the gown would cling in all the wrong places, drawing attention she wasn't ready to face.

She clasped her hands together, pressing them against her stomach as if to still the unease rising within her.

It was a feeling she hated, and the last thing she wanted was for Andrew to see it too.

She hated how exposed she felt at the thought of walking into a room and drawing attention.

Not for the elegance of the gown but for how it would emphasize everything she wished it wouldn't.

Recently, the idea of Andrew seeing how insecure she was to stand in the light unsettled her more than she cared to admit.

She didn't want him to think, even for a moment, that she wasn't fit to stand by his side.

That she wasn't the duchess he needed her to be.

That she did not command the presence, or carry herself with confidence and poise expected of a duchess. ..his duchess.

Lavinia wasn't sure she could be that woman, but she dreaded the thought of him realizing she might fall short.

Snapping out of her thoughts, she drew in a shuddery breath and forced a smile. Whatever her doubts, one thing was certain, Andrew had thought of her when he arranged for this gown, and the realization sent a strange flutter through her chest, one she wasn't quite ready to name.

She straightened her shoulders, brushing her palms down the front of her dinner dress. It was only right that she thank him for the gesture. Regardless of how uncertain she felt about the gown or what it represented, she couldn't ignore his thoughtfulness.

With that in mind, Lavinia stepped toward the door making her way to Andrew's study. Her mind churned with what she might say, rehearsing phrases that felt both too stiff and too revealing. A simple "thank you" seemed too small, but she wasn't sure what else she could say.

Lavinia paused outside the heavy oak door of the study to steady her breathing, her knuckles poised in mid-air. Drawing in a steadying breath, she knocked softly.

"Come in," came Andrew's deep, commanding voice.

She opened the door and stepped inside, finding him seated at the large mahogany desk with a ledger open before him.

His head was bent in concentration as his fingers traced something across the pages.

But as soon as he saw her, he straightened, and his eyes lit up, and.

..to her surprise, he closed the ledger and pushed it aside.

"Lavinia," he said in a low tone. "What brings you here?"

Her fingers twisted nervously in front of her as she took a hesitant step forward, holding a smile on her face. "I...I hope I'm not disturbing you. I only wanted to thank you...for the gown. It's beautiful."

His expression softened, and the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips. "Nonsense, you're not disturbing me. And since you're here..." He gestured to one of the chairs opposite his desk. "We might as well have our hour of conversation."

Lavinia blinked, momentarily thrown by his words. "I wouldn't want to interrupt your work," she said, glancing at the ledger he had just set aside.

"Work will always be here," he replied and smiled. "But our agreement of one hour a day is not something I take lightly. Sit, Lavinia."

Lavinia felt a warmth rise in her chest just hearing the way his words carried a sense of purpose, as if the time he spent with her was important to him.

It was almost annoying at this point how much he was affecting her these days with his words and his action.

Sometimes even by doing nothing. Trying not to seem too eager, she settled into the chair and folded her hands nervously in her lap as her gaze flickered between him and the desk.

Andrew leaned forward slightly, his attention now fully on her. "So, the gown," he said, his voice softer. "Did it suit you?"

Lavinia shifted in her seat, unable to meet his eyes for more than a brief moment. "I...I haven't tried it on yet," she murmured. "But it's beautiful. You must think highly of me to give me such a gown."

Andrew raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "What do you mean by that?" he asked.

Lavinia hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest as the words tumbled out before she could stop them. "It's breathtaking, Andrew," she said softly. "The gown...it's more than I would ever choose for myself. But I just don't think I could ever do it justice. Not the way it deserves."

Andrew fell silent at her words, his gaze darkening as he slowly sat back in his chair. The room seemed to grow still, as if even time itself was waiting for him to respond. Lavinia watched him, anxiety twisting in her stomach, wishing she could take back the vulnerability in her voice.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Andrew spoke. "You do know that you are a beautiful woman, right, Lavinia?” His tone was calm, but there was an edge to it. "I am not a man to flatter unnecessarily. I say things as they are. Honestly. That gown will suit you excellently."

Lavinia froze at his words, her breath hitching.

His gaze was steady, intense, and unwavering as it settled on her.

She wanted to look away, unnerved by the weight of his stare, but she couldn't. There was something in his eyes, a depth that made her feel exposed yet inexplicably seen, as though he understood her in a way she hadn't dared to hope anyone ever could.

"I think you stand out without any help from a dress," he continued.

"You always have. But you've spent too long hiding in the shadows, thinking you don't belong in the light.

The truth is, you are an excellent conversationalist. You are thoughtful, compassionate, and have an elegance that naturally draws people in, whether you realize it or not.

The light is where you belong, Lavinia. It's time you saw yourself the way others do. "

Lavinia lowered her gaze, unsure how to respond.

She raised her eyes slowly, meeting his gaze once more.

This time, she didn't look away. She let his words settle, feeling a mixture of feelings.

A balm, but at the same time, a sting. On one hand, she felt embarrassed.

..exposed in a way she had never allowed anyone to see before. How could he notice? How could he know?

But then, there was something in the way he spoke, in the steadiness of his gaze, that softened the edges of her discomfort.

In that moment, it felt like her heartbeat changed.

For the first time, she allowed herself to fully acknowledge the pull she felt toward him, the way his presence had shifted something inside her.

Andrew had charmed her, won her heart in ways she hadn't expected, and it was time she admitted it to herself. Her lips parted, but no words came out, only a silent acknowledgment. Perhaps, for once, she didn't need to say anything. Perhaps it was enough that she simply understood.