Page 17 of The Duchess and the Beast
“Please, I—”
“Am retiring to bed,I know. You made that abundantly clear.” She held her chin high, spun about, and swept out of his chamber. Pausing at the threshold, she threw a final glance back,her eyes sharp as knives. “You are right, it has been a long day, and much like yourself, I do not have an appetite. In fact, I think I shall be retiring too now.”
“Virtue...” He half reached out to stop her but knew he didn’t have it in himself to commit to the act. He had said enough tonight. He had ruined everything. Best he quit while he was behind, without risking falling back even further.
“Goodnight, husband.” She curled her lip at him. “Sleep well.”
And then, she was gone. The door was left open and Sebastian heard her feet stomping down the hall until they disappeared. He had spent many a night alone across the last few years; in a home that was near empty, the sounds of silence were his only companion. But tonight, for the first time in a long time, that sound was magnified tenfold.
He sat down on the end of his bed, listening to the silence, feeling as alone as he ever had. An irony which he was more than aware of.
When he had first agreed to marry Lady Hartleigh, he had heard the rumors of her but assumed them to be exaggerated. In fact, he had wanted them to be. A meek wife was what he desired, one to live with while still able to exist as he had before—alone. But Lady Hartleigh was different. A fiery temperament. A stubbornness that bordered on combative. And a level of confidence and self-assurance that was as alluring as it would be trouble.
Despite what he may have wanted, Sebastian could already feel himself warming to his new wife in ways he couldn’t have imagined. Ways that he didn’t even realize he wanted until now. They made that silence seem louder somehow, more isolating, more lonesome. He could quite physicallyhearher absence.
Sebastian never expected married life to be simple but this, he realized, was going to be something else entirely.
CHAPTER NINE
“Where do you suppose he keeps it?” Lucy mused aloud as she strolled alongside Virtue through the grand yet unfamiliar halls of Castle Greystone, searching for the exit onto the veranda.
“Keeps what?” Virtue replied, only half paying attention. The majority of her focus was captivated by the imposing architecture and the haunting beauty of their new surroundings, a space as frighteningly alien as it was empty.
“The torture chamber,” Lucy whispered in a half-serious, half-jesting tone. “Where do you suppose it is?”
Virtue pulled her eyes back and fixed her maid with a disapproving scowl. “Don’t be silly, Lucy.”
“I’m not! It is a fair question, one would think.” She spun around and looked about them, a finger to her chin, surveying their surroundings with theatrical suspicion. “Deeper in the castle, ismy guess. Likely in a cellar somewhere. Have you been below the floor level yet? How thorough was your search?”
“For this imaginary torture chamber? No luck. But I did come across a spinning wheel and a dandy imp called Rumpelstiltskin.”
“Very funny, V,” Lucy replied dryly.
“He doesn’t have a torture chamber,” Virtue replied with a subtle smile. “Although if he does, I would suggest you keep such thoughts to yourself. Unless you fancy being strapped to a rack. I might even suggest it to him.”
Lucy smirked, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Ah, but to do so, the two of you would have to actually speak first. At the very least, hold a conversation for longer than a minute without being at each other’s necks. An impossible task,” she tittered. “All that is to say, I should be fine.”
“I fail to see how this is supposed to lighten my mood.”
“Ididcatch a smile peeking through,” Lucy countered with a grin of her own.
Virtue’s was quickly replaced with a rueful glare, the implication being that Virtue was finished with this conversation and that Lucy should know better than to keep at it. But that was never her way, and her friend widened her eyes suggestively, appearing rather pleased with herself.
“Remind me to never ask for your help to distract me again. Better yet, remind me to keep my thoughts to myself from now on, lest you use them against me.” Virtue turned back from her friend and continued on her walk through the grand and vacantly gray corridors of the castle.
“Ah, but then who would you complain to?” Lucy skipped to catch up, her voice light and teasing. “If you didn’t have me to lament upon, I shudder to think what would happen. You would be a ball of pent-up energy, which would force you to speak with your husband, which would only lead to more arguing and more frustration, which would leave you needing someone to complain to. Honestly, it is lucky that I am here.”
Virtue rolled her eyes and groaned, as the pair finally found the exit and left the castle to enter the infamous Greystone Gardens. “Are you quite finished making me feel terrible, Lucy?”
The maid pouted. “Oh, V, you know I only wish to see you smile. Besides, it was just a misunderstanding. As Papa would say, misunderstandings can be temporary bridges to deeper understandings. I am sure you and His Grace will find your way across this one.”
“I suppose. And thank you, Lucy.” Virtue appreciated the sincere words. Lucy had arrived late last night, well after Virtue had retired to her chambers. But just as ever, she had risen at sunrise, there to greet Virtue at her door to make her feel as home as possible as Virtue made her way to the dining room to break her fast; an activity that she did alone, for her husband had decided not to join her.
Virtue wasn’t surprised by her husband’s absence. Truly, after what had transpired between them the previous night, she might have been shocked if he had deigned to join her. Twice now they had tried to engage in a civil manner and twice now the moment had dissolved into one of them snapping.
It might have been amusing if it weren’t so frustrating! Now that she had caught a glimpse beneath some of the layers of the man whom she had married, Virtue no longer held the fear of the Duke she once did. Yes, his temper was quick to flare—but then, so was hers. In a peculiar way, they were a perfect match: two fiery spirits trapped in a dance of defiance, each attempt at peace thwarted by rash words and sparked tempers. Even her attempt at an apology had spiraled into a heated exchange, an action that had seemed justified at the moment, but now seemed a little temperamental and short-sighted.
Virtuewantedto get along with Sebastian. She yearned to leave the bitterness of yesterday behind and see if they stood a chance at some semblance of happiness. But such a future demanded communication and mutual understanding—qualities both seemed reluctant to embrace presently.