Page 28 of The Duchess and the Beast
“I need to understand how to talk with her without...” Sebastian grimaced. “You know?”
“Biting her head off?” Simon interjected with a smirk.
Sebastian shot him a glare. “As my friend in blue so eloquently put it.”
“Truth be told, I don’t believe you have it in you, old boy,” Ralph added with a chuckle. “After all, we are speaking ofSebastian the Royal Butcher, are we not?”
“You know I detest that title,” Sebastian warned, wincing as the memories it conjured flooded back—memories he preferred to keep at bay.
“And yet it was a title well-earned, if you ask me,” Ralph replied coolly.
Like Simon, Sebastian’s history with Ralph Merchant stretched back nearly a decade to their service in the Spanish War. The three, along with Simon’s brother Jasper, had served in the Royal Dragoons Guard of Waterloo—a specialized cavalry regiment known for its brutal efficiency and willingness to undertake tasks that others weren’t. Things that still made Sebastian's skin crawl to remember.
Unlike Sebastian, however, both Ralph and Simon seemed perfectly unaffected by what each of them had gone through—or at the very least, did much better in hiding it. War was a terrible thing, leaving scars both seen and unseen; those which affected a man long after they had healed and supposedly faded. And where the physical scars were the most obvious—one look at Sebastian was enough to prove that point—the unseen had the potential to damage a man’s future even more so.
“You do see the dilemma here, don’t you?” Simon started boldly.
“If I did, I would have spared myself the two-hour journey and the accompanying backache,” Sebastian retorted with a huff.
Simon looked at him flatly. “You are attempting to win her favor by means of deception, that is to say, you are presenting yourself as someone you are not. What good is it to earn her affection if the whom she loves is someone else entirely? It is like luring a rabbit to dinner by dressing as a hare, while in truth, you are a ravenous fox who is one bad day away from devouring her.”
“More a wolf,” Ralph interjected.
“Afox,” Simon corrected, with a pointed glance at his friend. “You care for this lady, do you not?”
“She is not merely alady, she is my wife, Virtue Foxworth and the Duchess of Greystone,” Sebastian growled at him, which had little effect as Simon simply raised an unconcerned eyebrow. “I do.”
“Then be yourself. Good God man, it is not so difficult.”
“I cannot be myself,” Sebastian sighed heavily. “That is the entire point—just a few nights ago, I very nearly pounced on her after she tried to reach for my mask. What if the next time I...?” His voice faltered, the thought twisting his stomach. “What if I cannot stop myself from hurting her?” he breathed.
Simon chuckled coldly. “Alas, we circle back to the crux of the matter. I advised you against this marriage from the outset. I warned you, Greystone.”
“I do not see why the Royal Butcher should share even an ounce of compassion if you ask me,” Ralph joined in again. And again, flicked his golden locks out of his eyes with that practiced smile. “It was never like you to give a damn about anyone but yourself. Perhaps hurting her is for the best? Let her understand what she has truly married into.”
“An excellent point,” Simon concurred with a smirk. “Wed to theRoyal Butcher.Best she learns early.”
“Faith, at least she has no French blood,” Ralph added with a laugh.
Why had he bothered? Sebastian supposed it was because he’d had no other choice. Simon and Ralph were his only friends, though mornings spent in their company often left him wondering if they deserved that title at all.
He glanced at Simon with a pang of regret, wishing that Simon’s older brother, Jasper, was here. He and Sebastian had always shared a closer bond, one that would have offered genuine support instead of mockery and barbed wit. Yet, Jasper's absence was telling, underscoring the very reasons Simon and Ralph treated him as they did. The moniker ‘Royal Butcher’ indeed felt more like a curse than a title.
All today had done was prove to Sebastian how hopeless his situation was. Once, before the war, Sebastian was a kind and gentle soul, one he was certain Virtue would have loved to have gotten to know better. And he was still that person deep within, hidden beneath layers of trauma and anger. He knew this to be true. Unfortunately, whenever he attempted to reveal that side of himself, the beast within reared its head, and controlling his temper became a monumental struggle.
To truly know his wife, Sebastian could only strive to do his best, manage his temper as much as he was able, and fervently hope that Virtue kept him at arm’s length.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“What do you suspect he wants?” Virtue asked Lucy as they hastened through the corridors of Greystone Castle.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Lucy replied, her tone laden with as much curiosity as Virtue herself felt. “But knowing how the last few days have been going, it cannot possibly be anything good.”
“I’m sure it is nothing too dire,” she reassured.
Lucy shuddered. “It has gotten so bad that I have taken to bolting my door each night before I sleep. This entire castle…” She glanced about them and shuddered again. “It’s like something out of a Gothic tale.”
Virtue offered her friend a dismissive look, a shake of the head, and an eye roll for good measure. She only wished that Lucy was exaggerating, but she knew her maid well enough to know that inthis instance, the fear was genuine. The castle and her husband, Sebastian, indeed had formidable presences, and while Virtue believed there was more to them than their frightful exterior suggested, she could not fault Lucy for her apprehension.