Page 30 of The Duchess and the Beast

“Wh-where did you go?”

“Personal business. Nothing important.” His replies were terse, clipped, leaving her uncertain whether he was cloaked in irritation or veiled nervousness.

“Oh.” Another step closer, still positioned behind him. Slowly, she edged to her left, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face. Now, his well-built back came into full view, tapering down to a narrow waist, guarded by fiercely muscular arms. “Nothing bad, I hope?” she choked.

He did not respond right away, and she could sense from his muscles how tense he was, how unsure. But then again, that was normal. The two sides of the same coin, vicious or meek. It was as if they were doing battle right before her eyes, trying to decide which one to show.

She moved again, another delicate step forward and to the left, edging ever so closer—

Suddenly, he shifted in the bathtub, turning slightly. She instinctively stepped to the right, her breath catching. “I have been thinking about what you said that night.”

“Wh-what I said?”

“About the gardens,” he clarified. “You mentioned that you were considering renovations?”

“I am...” Her heart was beating furiously as she came to within three feet of him. So near now that she felt if she peered over, she might even catch a glimpse beyond his shoulders, into the water, and to the rest of him...

“That seems quite the endeavor for one person.” He dropped his arms from the edge of the tub into the water, as if he could sense where her thoughts lingered. Her cheeks flushed, as though she had been caught red-handed.

“It is,” she breathed, her voice tinged with a slight tremor. “But I have the time, and I think I might rather enjoy working on your musc—” she clamped a hand over her mouth. “The castle, I mean. It could—it could use some life.”

He chuckled softly at that, his breath evaporating in the steam-filled washroom. “Indeed, it could.”

A brief silence fell between them again, thick with unspoken words and so much more. Virtue seized the moment to shift slightly to her left, each step careful and cautious as she slowly circled the tub. For each measured footfall, she gained a better view of him—the faint silhouette of his powerful legs became visible just beneath the water now, and it took everything in her not to stare. But the side of his face, with each proceeding step, it came further and further into view...

“But you should not have to undertake such a project alone,” he spoke suddenly, again shifting his position in the tub, turning slightly away from her. “Tomorrow, I shall journey to the local parish and hire some assistance. A team, at your disposal.”

This announcement startled Virtue into silence. “You—you will?”

“Does that please you?” Again, nerves tinged his voice as if worried she might disapprove.

For a moment, Virtue forwent her task of trying to catch a glimpse of Sebastian’s naked face. Rather, she stared at him, surprised by the man whom she had married... at least this side of him. Not the actions of a savage brute, but a kind, even gentle man who was going out of his way to please her. Could it be that he had spent the past days devising this plan? Was this why he had been absent?

“Well?” he growled.

“It does,” she said quickly, only to realize something, and then speak it before she had a chance to catch herself. “Although...”

“Although?” He moved to twist around in the tub, his giant muscles undulating slowly in the steam and halting him at the last moment.

She hesitated, wondering if she should push. He had offered her an olive branch, and she knew she should have taken it. Only, Virtue couldn't shake the memory of their confrontation a few nights prior—his raw, unguarded reaction when challenged. Yes, he had been furious, his grip tight and his presence towering, reminiscent of a lion towering over its catch. But in that rawness, she glimpsed therealSebastian.

In fact, the only times that she sensed she had met her real husband was when his anger spiked. When he was no longer afraid to be himself, no longer careful and overthinking everything he said. It wasn't that she favored his temper; rather, she yearned to bridge the gap between this fierce authenticity and his gentler demeanor. The confident, dominant version of her husband who took charge, but also had it within himself to be gentle when it came to her.

“Although,” Virtue began again, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I had thought it might be rather nice if... if we could undertake the task together.”

“What?”

“The garden,” she pressed boldly. “I am truly grateful for your offer, I assure you. But do you not think it could be an endeavor we share? After all, you will enjoy the fruits of our labor as much as I, will you not?”

“I—” He paused, and for a moment, she feared she had overstepped. Gardening was hardly considered the province of a Duke, so why should she ask her husband to undertake a task so beneath his station? But then, he surprised her once more. “I think I would like that.”

Virtue noticed a subtle shift in his demeanor. He seemed to sit a little straighter in the tub, more at ease. It was almost as if he was battling with himself not to turn around, as if for the first time, he desired her to see him as he truly was.

“I am glad,” she beamed, wishing he could see it. “Truly, I look forward to it.”

“As do I,” he replied, his tone sincere.

About to dismiss herself with a promise of seeing him at supper, Virtue’s gaze inadvertently swept past his back to the wall beyond the tub. There, leaning inconspicuously against the wall, was a full-length mirror. The steam from the bath fogged its surface, but not so heavily that it obscured the reflection within. Her eyes were drawn irresistibly to the glass, traveling down its length… and that was when she saw it.