Page 24 of The Duchess and the Beast

Yet, he found he could not simply let the…matterrest either. The evening had been unfolding so well until that moment, a new leaf turning in the pages of their relationship, such that if he had been able to control himself, they might still be sitting together talking, dining, laughing. Why, if things continued in that way… who knew where the night might have led?

Earlier that evening, Virtue had enraptured him such that he was through lying to himself that this marriage meant nothing to him and that he did not care what she thought. He neededher forgiveness—he needed to assure himself that he had not irrevocably damaged what could have been.

It was for that reason Sebastian found himself lingering at the threshold of her chamber less than an hour after she had fled.

“Virtue...” He stood awkwardly by the open door, reluctant to intrude any further lest she regress to panicking in his presence, as she had been the entire day before their eventual supper. “I am sorry to disturb you, but I was hoping we might... that you might allow me to explain myself.”

She sat at her writing table, her head bent over a book. A quick glance at him in her doorway had her brows furrowing before she looked back down. “Explain? Whatever do you mean?”

“What happened back there...” He trailed off.

“Oh.” She closed her book shut with a soft thump and swiveled in her seat to face him fully. “You refer to your reaction to the simple accident of a glass breaking? A response that some might consider... a touch exaggerated?” Her eyebrow arched pointedly.

He winced, feeling the sting of her words. She had every right to be upset with him. What had happened was more than a mere overreaction. But he’d had no choice! He wished desperately that he had command over such outbursts. He never intended to frighten her. Yet there was simply nothing he could do about it.

A monster, indeed.

“Yes, that,” he confirmed, his tone measured. “May I...” He gestured hesitantly into the room.

“It is your home,” she said simply.

She was being deliberately antagonistic. He could see that now. It was a test of his temperament, perhaps deservedly so. He supposed he couldn’t blame her, seeing as he had behaved like a beast when she was only ever polite to him. And withheld from her so much that she had never fully learned just precisely what she had signed up for with this marriage.

Breathing deeply, Sebastian nodded once, then entered her chambers, but he didn’t immediately go to her. He came to a stop at the center of the room, worried to get too close. What had happened earlier was over now, and he did not expect it to return. But having once seen that all-encompassing fear in his wife’s eyes, perhaps it was better this way.

“What happened just now, at supper, you need to know that wasn’t your fault. The way I acted... it had nothing to do with you.”

“And I suppose I am to just believe that after everything else that has happened over the past days.”

“It is true. And thatthing…it is not who I am,” he continued, saying the words as if trying to convince himself more than anything. “Yet sometimes, the worst comes out in me, and I cannot control it. But I need you to know—to understand. It was not your fault.”

She looked at him. Saying nothing at first. Holding him in her gaze as if expecting a further explanation—one that he could not give, no matter how much he desired to. Under her probing stare, Sebastian felt himself grow hot, refusing to meet her eyes for fear that she might see right through him. That she might see he was here seeking her forgiveness, completely unraveled by her, with no semblance of control left in their relationship. And if she realized that… he would be utterly at her mercy.

“And whatdidhappen precisely?” she finally dared to ask.

“That is...” Sebastian hesitated. “It is not important. But I promise, it will not happen again.”

“I don’t accept that,” she declared firmly.

“Pardon?”

She gracefully rose from her chair, and when she did, he took a step back. “This marriage, it shall never flourish if we cannot be honest with one another. And where you might be happy to feign that all is well, I am afraid that I’m not so easily placated.” She took another step toward him. “You had no desire to marry me, did you?”

“That is not—” He started to say but could not bring himself to finish the blatant lie.

Standing before him, Virtue was clad in the same emerald gown she had worn to dinner, her presence so striking thatit momentarily stole the breath from him. Towering over her, aware of his own strength, he knew it would be effortless to close the distance between them, to claim her as his own, as was his right as her husband. Yet, he did not want to do that simply because he could. He wantedherto want it.

“And care to know something? I never wished to marry you either.” She shrugged plaintively. “The things I heard about you were horrible. Ghastly, even. Why, Lucy, my maid, remains convinced that there is a torture chamber within these walls, where you ensnare villagers to feast upon as a wolf would a trapped hen.”

“That is not true,” he countered, hackles raising for she was probing at a sore spot that she knew better than to probe at. Almost as though she sought to incite his anger.

“Of course it is not,” she exhaled, a note of exhaustion in her sigh. “But therein lies the point. I believed those fables because I knew no better. Too much indulgence in fairy tales led me to suspect I had stumbled upon one myself. Yet, having met you, I began to see how these tales might have been grossly embellished, or even entirely fabricated...”

“Of course they are,” he snarled angrily, only to catch himself. “I would never—I could never...”

“Feast upon local villagers?” she giggled, disarming him effortlessly once more. “I should certainly hope not.” She took another step toward him, and this time, he held his ground. “And I trust the same can be said for me. I can only imagine thedreadful tales you have heard about my past, most of which are utterly fictitious.” She arched a brow, a glint of challenge in her eyes.

“I know they are,” he replied, meaning it. “And last night, what I said about you, what I implied, I did not mean—”