Page 39 of Her Beast of a Duke

He regarded her as though he knew the questions swimming in her mind. He didn’t say anything more.

“What does it cost you?” she asked suddenly. “To be here, to be out in the open, looked at, seen, in full brightness?”

Oscar stiffened, shifting himself away from her slightly. “You saw how I reacted to your inviting light into my home. This is far, far worse, in a way.”

“Oscar—”

“We must mingle,” he said abruptly.

“Oscar,” she tried again, noticing he did not correct her lack of propriety.

He began to stride away, leaving her and her questions behind. Standing alone, Isabella had no choice but to tune into the whispers around her.

“Do they look like a couple happy during their honeymoon?” One lady questioned, her eyes flitting between Isabella and the Duke.

“Not at all. Then again, who could be happy with such a beast?”

The two erupted into giggles, and Isabella’s anger rose from deep within her gut. She took a step toward them, ready todefend both herself and her husband, but her attention was snagged by Lady Miriam, who beckoned her closer.

Frowning, Isabella approached her, finding her broken away from the twins.

“Lady Miriam, you are all by yourself,” she observed.

Around them, the summer air danced around hedges trimmed perfectly, and blooming bouquets of pastel flowers. The scent of freshly mown grass filled the air, along with the flavor of the food being prepared from within the house.

It all wafted out, making Isabella feel far more secure than she ought to.

“I am,” Lady Miriam said. “The twins were taken aside so some lords could speak with them. In truth, I am relieved. The two of them have grown… bothersome.”

Isabella’s brows rose in surprise. “You were rather close to them the last time we spoke. Surely that has not changed so quickly.” Her defenses were on high alert.

Lady Miriam shrugged delicately in her pale yellow gown. “Your words struck true, Your Grace. You are quite right. We have all judged you, yet we have few victories of our own to boast of. Who are we to speak ill of you?”

Again, cautious and wary, Isabella diplomatically approached her response. “I see, and what do you suppose to do about our former friendship?”

“I wish to reinstate it. I would have come equipped with a belated wedding gift, an olive branch of sorts, but I was uncertain whether you would show up today.”

“A fair assumption.”

“I am terribly sorry about the scandal you endured, Your Grace,” Lady Miriam said, her brows pinching in empathy. “And now, to be married to that beastly duke…”

“He is not beastly,” Isabella sharply answered. “How can you apologize to me, yet still speak ill of my husband? He deserves your respect as much as I do.”

Lady Miriam reared back in surprise, frowning for a moment, before that perfect smile took over. It was too late; Isabella saw the cracks in her false apology.

“Of course,” Lady Miriam purred. “But you cannot deny that he is…strange.I mean, those ghastly scars are just awful!”

“I cannot imagine the nightmares he must have endured to receive them,” Isabella murmured.

“Oh, heavens, no, I mean to look at! It almost makes one feel ill at ease.” Lady Miriam shook her head hastily. “I do not knowhow to stomach it. Does it not put you off your nightly dinners?” Before Isabella could berate her and follow her own path into her rage, Lady Miriam continued. “You must manage him well, though, Your Grace, so I will commend you on such a thing.”

“Manage him?” Isabella echoed, disgusted. “Do explain.”

“Well, such a brute must have a terrible temper, no? You are not visibly harmed nor bruised, so you must keep him in check somehow.”

Her lip curled, but her response was lost on her tongue at a commotion across the garden.

She turned, as many others did, to see a footman tripping over, losing a tray of glasses full of wine.