Page 8 of The Beast’s Unwanted Duchess (Icy Dukes #1)

"People are saying you’ve been murdered, Alice," Lavinia answered. "Now, for two years you have refused to debunk any of the rumors that have started. But now I’m afraid that it’s become too much.

You haven’t appeared at any events of the Season for a whole year, and the ton is saying that your husband must have murdered you!

" Lavinia exclaimed, worry etched across her face.

"It’s just rumors, Lavinia," Alice said.

"It has always been just that, I know," Lavinia said. "But the fact that no one else has seen you out in society is driving the rumors."

Emma nodded in agreement. "You have to make an appearance, Alice. Just to prove them wrong. So they know that you are alive and well. That you’re not having affairs behind your husband’s back, and that you are not nurturing an illegitimate child."

Alice shrugged, unfazed. "I’ve never liked the ton , and their rumors don’t bother me. Besides, Victor doesn’t seem to care either. They can talk. They are allowed to talk."

Lavinia leaned closer, her voice lowering. "Alice, are you trying to provoke the Duke by not denying the rumors? Because you remaining quiet only puts him in a bad light."

"Even the rumors that he tortures you every day to keep you in line still persist, and you have done nothing to dispel them," Emma added, her tone laced with concern.

"People are beginning to wonder if you’re truly safe in this marriage, and it makes the Duke look even worse given that he already has a terrible reputation. "

While Alice wasn’t actively trying to provoke the Duke, the situation felt like a subtle form of revenge for his abandonment.

Each day she remained hidden away at Ravenmoor, she found a strange sense of satisfaction in knowing that her absence stirred the pot of gossip and speculation among the ton .

It was as if she were reclaiming a piece of her independence, a small victory against the man who had married her and then disappeared from her life.

"I thought you were glad that the Duke left?" Emma asked. "You used to say that you appreciated the freedom and the peace of mind it afforded you."

Alice paused, her gaze drifting back to the darkening clouds outside. "I am glad, Emma," she answered, doubting her own words. "His mere presence scared me. At least with him gone, I don’t have to worry so much about my safety."

"However, two years is quite some time," Lavinia noted. "What has he been doing all this while?"

Alice shrugged her shoulders. "Tending to his duties as the Duke, from what I hear.

Managing his estates and occupying himself with books.

Not that I care much. I suppose I should be thankful that he pays no mind to me.

Given his temper, who knows what might have happened had he stayed in Ravenmoor? "

Lavinia inched forward. "But Alice?—"

"Enough about me," Alice said in an attempt to change the subject. "We have been talking about me and all these rumors since you both arrived. Tell me about you, Lavinia. Are you enjoying the Season?"

Lavinia looked very reluctant to change the subject, but she sat back and mellowed. "I attended the Patterson ball last week, but it was so crowded that I felt as if I might suffocate. Even the walls were crowded. This season is something else."

Alice leaned in with a smile on her face. "But have you danced at all? Surely there must be one or two gentlemen eager to have your hand."

Lavinia’s cheeks flushed as she shook her head. "I… I managed a dance or two, but it was hardly enjoyable."

"Are we truly talking about the season when the ton thinks that Alice is dead?" Emma interjected.

Alice threw her head back and groaned. "Just leave it be, Emma. We hardly ever see each other and I don’t want to spend the rest of this time talking about what other people are saying. I would much rather talk about you and Lavinia."

"I understand why talking about it might be uncomfortable for you, Alice, but I insist that you dispel these rumors before they completely ruin you," Emma said. "The Crowell Ball is coming up. Have you considered attending?"

Alice never liked social gatherings, so in a way, she was comfortable in her isolation at Ravenmoor.

There were no judgmental stares, no whispered gossip, and she didn’t have to meet any stifling expectations.

Those days were behind her. It was liberating, even if it came at the cost of loneliness.

At least here, in her sanctuary, she could focus on her own affairs, uninterrupted by the world that once held her captive.

"It is almost as if you like living in this gigantic estate alone," Lavinia said. "People go mad when left in solitude for too long."

"Technically, I’m not alone," Alice replied with a faint smile. "I have Roberts, the butler, Agatha... my maids. It’s truly not that terrible."

"You’re building an orangery, Alice," Emma pointed out. "You have sufficient time on your hands to build an orangery from scratch. If you were planning balls, or even attending some, perhaps you wouldn’t feel the need to pour your energy into these endless projects."

Alice looked away, her fingers tracing the armrest of her chair. "Balls and those gatherings were never my style, Emma. You both know that."

"But these things are expected of you. You are the Duchess of Ravenmoor and you have never hosted any social event in two years. You have been quiet. If Lavinia and I didn’t come all the way down here to visit, we would have believed the rumors that you were dead," Emma noted.

Alice rose to her feet and strolled over to the window, her fingers lightly brushing the drapes as she looked out at the gathering storm clouds. She was about to say something when Roberts entered the drawing room, diverting her attention to him.

"My apologies, Your Grace," Roberts said with a slight bow. "His Grace has returned. His carriage has just arrived at the estate."

"What?" was all she managed to say.

She glanced at Emma and Lavinia, panic rising in her chest. "I need to go," she said quickly. "I’ll speak to you both later."

Her friends exchanged worried looks and rose to their feet but said nothing as she hurried out of the room. Alice rushed down the staircase, her heart pounding louder with each step.

She reached the bottom of the staircase and paused, nerves fluttering wildly in her stomach. The door to the drawing room was slightly ajar. Taking a deep breath, she pushed it open and stepped inside.

Victor stood near the window, his back to her.

"How do you do, wife," he said, his voice low and menacing. A twisted grin curled on his lips that instantly sent chills down Alice’s spine.

The last time she had seen that look on his face was on their wedding day when he realized she feared him. He looked like a man on a mission, and Alice froze in fear, wondering what he was doing here after two whole years.