Page 29 of The Duchess and the Beast
She was certain that Sebastian was angry with her too. After the…confrontationa few nights ago, he had likely spent the days avoiding her, perhaps fearful of what he might say or do. Maybe he had even spent it conceiving a punishment worthy of her? One that would finally put her in her place.
Although… she also could not stop thinking about that kiss. It had only lasted a moment, and she had cut it short by foolishly trying to unfasten his mask. The way he had thrown her back and snarled at her still made her hair stand up on end. But that kiss, the lingering feel on her lips, there was something there. A desire that they both felt, she was sure. One that she wondered deep down if he might be tempted to explore.
Curiously, even now, the notion of being summoned for a reprimand did not instill the dread it perhaps should have. In a way, she almost yearned for it—for him to call her into his study or bedchamber and reprimand her properly. She did not believe Sebastian capable of true harm toward her, for such brutality seemed contrary to his nature. Rather, she suspected that he would try and intimidate her again, that he would let his anger flair and expect her to be submissive. He had the potential to be terrifying when he wanted, and where a small part of her did indeed fear this side of him, another, more significant part of her was inexplicably drawn to it, much like a moth to a flame.
“…And we have arrived,” Lucy frowned as they halted outside the bedchamber. “Good luck, V.”
Virtue swallowed hard, her apprehension mounting. “Are you certain he asked me to see him here?” She eyed the closed door warily, suddenly feeling very nervous, heart pounding in her chest.
Lucy shrugged, holding up three fingers as she knocked one down for each point she was to make. “His Grace’s butler, Mr. Albion Merchant, instructed me to fetch you at once. He also mentioned His Grace would be taking his bath before supper. And his washroom is located inside his chambers. So I believe so, yes.”
“Perhaps he meant for me to wait until supper?” Her eyes flicked to the heavy oak door again. “I think I should wait.”
“And risk angering His Grace further?” Lucy pointed out. “Are you sure it is worth it, V?”
This must have been some sort of test. That was the only explanation. A means of seeing if Virtue would do as he asked without question, even if that something was as unlike her husband as she could have imagined. Until now, he had been both reticent around her and angry. He had shied away from her when he was in control of himself, and lashed out when his temper flared. A coin with two sides, both as different as the sun is to the moon.
Between those sides, however, Virtue had sensed something more. A few nights ago, amidst their heated confrontation, when he had seized her by the arm and borne down on her, there had been a fleeting moment when terror had transformed into desire, and anger to temptation. He had met her eyes, she had met his, and for the briefest heartbeat, she had wondered if he had wanted her the way a husband should want a wife.
Is that why he invited her to his bedchamber… or rather, the clearer—implication, his washroom? Could it be that he finally willed to have her, to truly claim her as his wife in every sense? The thought was both thrilling and terrifying.... and yet just the idea of it was enough to strengthen Virtue’s resolve and have her reaching for the door...
“Good luck,” Lucy whispered as the door cracked open and Virtue stepped inside.
Gathering her composure, Virtue navigated the mist-shrouded bedchamber, her fingertips brushing along the rich mahogany furniture for guidance. She approached the adjoining washroom door with a tentative grace, the sound of water and the scent of sandalwood growing stronger. With a deep breath, she opened the door to Sebastian’s washroom.
Thick, warm steam billowed over her such that she could barely see. “…Your Grace?” she called out softly as she tried to make out the room before her.
“Who goes there?” Sebastian barked.
“Vir—Virtue,” she stammered as the door shut behind her. “You asked to see me?”
As her eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light, the room remained veiled in a dense, steamy fog that danced around the flickering lanterns on the walls. At the heart of the mist, she made out the silhouette of a large tub, and the unmistakable figure of her husband within it.
“What are you doing in here?” His voice, deep and commanding, echoed off the ceramic walls. Except, it was tinged with a note of surprise.
“You asked to see me?” Virtue’s response was almost a whisper, halted in place by the unexpectedly sensual scene. The silhouette of his exposed, powerful form enveloped in the warm mist sent a thrilling shiver down her spine, her breath catching.
“I did not,” he snapped.
“I am afraid you are mistaken,” she said bravely. “Albion told Lucy you wished to see me?”
Sebastian groaned, the sound resonating within her eardrums. “I meant to inquire if you would be joining me for supper, not to be sought out while I bathed.”
“Oh...” Her words trailed off as she stood rooted to the spot, intending to leave, but finding her body unwilling to respond. Alone in the washroom, the air thick with steam and theundeniable presence of her naked husband only feet away... Should she seize the moment? Was it upon her to close the ever-growing chasm between them? “I-I am sorry, I must have misunderstood.”
No response. A silence instead, one that was as heavy as the clouds that gathered between them. Realizing her mistake—or perhaps the unintended opportunity it presented—she could not help but let her gaze wander.
Standing barely ten feet away from Sebastian, she peered through the clearing steam, her gaze sharpening as the contours of his form in the tub became crystallized before her. The sight of his bare, sculpted arms, muscles rippling beneath the skin, drew a silent gasp from her. His hair, dark and lustrous, was slick with water, trailing sensuously down his back and shoulders, with droplets catching the dim light like tiny stars. Her fingertips tingled at what his firm body might feel beneath them. The scene, pulsing with an unexpected sensuality, ignited a thrilling heat within her core, awakening desires she had never felt toward any other man before.
And his face... although obscured, she knew he was not wearing his mask. For the first time, he was utterly vulnerable. Despite the situation, or perhaps because of it, her curiosity burned fiercely—she longed to see him fully, to know the man without his usual armor. She needed to see him,trulysee him, in this unguarded moment…allof him. Butterflies cavorted in her stomach at what that might entail.
“I can leave,” she whispered softly, her body betraying her, inching a step closer to the edge of the tub where he bathed.
“I—” He paused, the hesitation clear in his voice. “It is fine. I should have been more clear.”
“I have not seen you in days,” she pressed gently. “You were out?”
“I was.”