Page 32 of The Duchess and the Beast

“No?” Sebastian joined her, peering at the blooms as though he actually cared one way or the other. She was certain he didn’t but his effort in pretending to care meant the world to her.

“Roses are so... so commonplace,” she shrugged. “Every garden has them.”

“Is that not a reason to keep them, then? If they are so fashionable.”

She rolled her eyes playfully and gave his arm a gentle slap—something she would not have dared do just days earlier—but now felt completely natural doing. “I don’t want the fashionable, Sebastian. I want different. Intriguing. I want our garden to captivate visitors, to make them pause and admire, wondering how we ever came up with such an idea.”

“I suspect you simply wish to keep the foreman busier,” he teased.

“Perhaps,” she grinned, her eyes twinkling as she looked up at him. It was a half-truth. Rather, she wanted to prolong her own daily encounters with her husband.

He chuckled and glanced around the garden in thought. “I’ll have a word with the foreman later,” Sebastian assured her. “See what he thinks.”

“We,” she quickly corrected. “Wewill have a word with him later.”

He smiled at her. It was only a half-smile for he still wore his mask whenever they were together, but it reached his eyes, and, oh, how she wished that he might remove it one day so she could see his smile in full. Each morning she awaited him at breakfast, she spent wondering if today would be the day he felt comfortable enough to reveal his face. Each day she hoped that he might finally discard the mask, showing her the true man beneath.

Five days had passed, yet there was still no indication that he planned to remove it anytime soon. She knew that he would eventually. She was certain that with each passing day, he was inching closer to trusting her enough to do so. His personality was beginning to reveal itself. His true nature was shining in a way it never had. But that god-forsaken mask... so long as he wore it, she knew she would never fully see the man she had married, and their marriage would retain an element of pretense.

Still smiling down at her, Virtue’s eyes briefly flicked to his hand dangling there beside her own. So close they were almost touching...

He was far too careful around her. That was the problem. Even now that he could talk freely without acting stiff and awkward, he seemed afraid to touch her as if she were a porcelain doll and he worried he might break her. But she yearned to be broken. Images of him in the tub that night, his naked body, his bare face... they still drifted through her mind’s eye whenever he was near.

Taking a chance, Virtue held his smile as she drifted her hand to his, lightly brushing his knuckles and then wrapping her fingers around his—

“What else?” He cleared his throat, abruptly pulling his hand back and turning away from her to scan across the garden. “You mentioned something about the pathway around the side of the castle?”

Her heart sank slightly. “Yes,” she sighed, frowning up at her husband, wondering what she had to do to get him to touch her without shrinking back. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted the path lain with.”

“The same stone as we used here—” He gestured to the path they stood on. “Or had you something different in mind? Knowing your taste for the unfashionable, I suspect you might,” he added with a laugh.

At least he was trying. At least they were talking. His temper, too, seemed to have mellowed—he no longer bristled when she pushed him but appeared to enjoy their teasing exchanges. Yet, his persistent reluctance to engage with her as a husband shouldleft a glaring void in their unorthodox relationship, a barrier that kept their marriage from blossoming fully.

“I don’t mind this stone,” she grumbled. “But... here, let me show you.” She stepped next to him, her hand dangling right there for him to take. And his eyes, they flicked down to it, he seemed to consider, only to nod and start down the path on his own.

“I cannot wait to see what you have in mind,” Sebastian called over his shoulder as he strode ahead.

It had only been five days, Virtue reminded herself. Such a small amount of time in the grand scheme of things. Yet she knew that if she wanted this marriage to progress, if she wished to see her husband transform into his true self, she was going to have to take further action.

It would be a risk. What came to mind in that moment... there was infinite potential for failure. Worse still, if her efforts did not unfold as she hoped, she feared that the temper her husband had managed to keep at bay throughout the week might unleash its full fury upon her, a tempest she had not braved since their very first encounter. Nevertheless, it was a gamble she needed to take.

In the storybooks she cherished, the heroines often faced daunting challenges, but it was for that reason that when they succeeded, the victory was all the sweeter. And tonight, Virtue would taste such a victory. And hopefully, if things went the way she planned, maybe she would taste her husband too...

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“What do you think?” Virtue asked Lucy as she weighed a bottle in each hand. “Wine or brandy?”

“Only a couple weeks without your fancy exotic teas, and you are already falling into drinking habits?” Lucy giggled.

“You know what it’s for.” Virtue rolled her eyes. “Wine or brandy?”

“Wine is more romantic,” Lucy pointed out.

“I suppose…” Virtue mused, considering her options, before raising the other bottle. “But brandy tends to go down easier.”

“Are you hoping to have him in his cups?”

Virtue flashed a mischievous grin. “It wouldn’t hurt.”