Page 22 of The Duke Who Stole Me (Stolen by the Duke #4)

Chapter Twenty-Two

“ I t’s rather large and breathtaking. I like it,” said Lady Ridgewell.

Truly, Blackmoor Hall was large, nearly more than half the size of Blackmoor House, which Juliana had developed a soft spot for.

So, instead of agreeing with her mother’s claim, she nodded, pressing her lips together to stifle a smile because she knew her mother would love Blackmoor Hall more.

Her family had come to visit like they promised to the last time they met at the ball, and she could’ve possibly been the happiest person on the face of the earth.

She had disregarded all social norms and ran toward them, squealing in excitement as she threw her arms around them. This was all she had wanted to do at the ball—finally seeing her family after a full month. Her mother had been the first one to break the embrace, choosing to look around instead, and Juliana couldn’t blame her.

She looked over at her sisters, noticing they were dressed demurely, with their hair in neat and proper updos.

“Did Mama put you up to this?” she asked, taking Ava and Emily’s hands.

Both sisters were holding onto little Gina, who stepped between them and had not hugged Juliana as tightly as she usually did.

Ava nodded her head in response.

“Mama…” Juliana whined.

“I hardly believe dressing them properly before visiting their eldest sister, who is now duchess, is wrong,” Lady Ridgewell declared, the look on her face as firm as the tone of her voice.

“I’ve told you to quit these dramatics, Mama.” Juliana shook her head.

“And I simply refuse.” Lady Ridgewell folded her arms.

“She also told us not to talk to you much, as you’re now a duchess and duchesses scarcely speak.”

“Oh, I speak plenty. Vincent can testify to it,” Juliana said to her sisters with a wink.

The three girls giggled.

“Then you should quit such a bad habit. If I’d known you would catch the attention of a duke, I would’ve hired a governess to teach you good manners.”

Juliana narrowed her eyes at her mother. “Well, I am glad you did not.”

Her mother shot her a glare.

“Mama also told us to address you by your title,” Emily added, earning herself a glare from her sister.

Initially, Juliana had thought it was a mere jest and her mother was doing what she did best—vexing her sisters. But her mother seemed serious.

“Mama, you have to put a stop to this behavior,” she said, then turned to her sisters. “Would you three jump off a cliff if Mama asked you to?”

Her sisters shook their heads.

“Likewise. We are sisters, flesh and blood. I would never in a million years wish to put a bridge between us simply because I am married to a duke,” she told them, hoping they would understand and cease the theatrics.

“But it is for their good, and they know it. Ava’s prospects have improved greatly, and though I’m planning for her debut next year, proposals are already being made. At this rate, she might get married before she ever steps into a ballroom.”

Juliana shook her head instantly. “I am glad that my marriage worked out for the best. However, Ava must experience what it’s like to be introduced to Society.”

While Juliana spoke, her sisters nodded vehemently, while a scowl much similar to Vincent’s sat on her mother’s face.

“When you have children, do with them as you please. I shall do with mine as I please. If a good match comes, she will accept it.”

Juliana sighed, deciding to drop the subject knowing quite well that her mother would not agree with her.

“Speaking of which. I believe you—” Lady Ridgewell paused and glanced at little Gina, as if considering whether she was old enough to listen to what she had to say. “Come with me.”

She dragged Juliana to the nearest drawing room and closed the door behind her, even though she knew it would be counterproductive, since the sisters had developed a habit of eavesdropping.

“I believe you have been bedded.”

Juliana flushed instantly at the blunt statement.

She had, in fact, been bedded, and multiple times in the past few days, but she would be damned if she gave her mother such information.

“Why do you ask?”

“Why do I ask, you say? Do you not realize the importance of your role as a duchess? Do you not realize that your newly acquired sobriquet is grounds for a scandal? Or do you not know that birthing an heir solidifies one’s position?” Lady Ridgewell asked, her eyes wide.

Juliana thought about it. Her mother might be dramatic, but she was always on point.

“Vincent hasn’t spoken about an heir,” she muttered.

“You are to make him speak about it. What nobleman wouldn’t want to continue his bloodline?”

Juliana took a deep breath and sighed. How could she explain that she was married to a man who had already planned for someone else to inherit his title should calamity befall him?

“You should speak to him about it. Better yet, you should initiate it. The process is pleasurable, as you know. He won’t refuse you.”

Juliana blinked in shock at her mother.

And yet her mother was right.

She and Vincent had already engaged in the act several times, so conceiving a child could not be so difficult.

Except Juliana would come to find out that it could indeed be extremely difficult.

“I heard about Hazel’s August visit,” Somerton began.

Vincent let out a long sigh. Instead of responding immediately, he cocked his rifle and aimed it at the target—a wooden dummy with one eye shut.

“Are we in trouble yet?” Somerton asked.

Vincent got the hint. If he did not respond, the Marquess would keep speaking or asking questions.

“Not yet, but we will be soon if we fail to apprehend Norfield,” he replied, before pulling the trigger.

The sound rippled through the trees, and the birds in the vicinity took flight.

“They say that you have been compromised because of your wife’s involvement in the case.”

Vincent whipped his head to Somerton, who instinctively took a step backward.

Of course, his instinct was to defend his wife, but it was also something that had been weighing on him since Hazel’s visit.

“I cannot lie to you, Blackmoor, but I understand their reasoning. It was why I tried to interrogate her—not that I’m making excuses—because it feels as though she has done something to you. I still apologize, though, for disrespecting your wife in such a manner.”

Vincent cocked his rifle again, irritation bubbling inside him as he aimed it at the target. However, the moment he tried to take the shot, a strong wind blew past, ruining his perfect aim.

“Damn it all!” He threw his rifle to the ground, seething. Even the universe was mocking him.

He ran his fingers through his hair, frustration etched in every move.

He couldn’t deny it. His wife was a distraction. A pleasant, pleasurable distraction. And he relished being inside her. But then she had always been involved in every attempt to apprehend Norfield, and whenever he saw her, he’d lose his inhibitions and do whatever she pleased.

Never in his life and years of service had he ever been sent a warning from the Crown, but now he had been. Whether he liked it or not, it was a dent in his pristine reputation.

On the other hand was his strong attraction to his wife. He knew he could not keep his hands off of her, so what could be done?

Later that evening when Vincent arrived home, he entered his chamber to find Juliana on his bed, wearing a silk nightdress that molded to her curves, her hair brushed to the side, and a welcoming smile on his face. Suddenly, the scowl on his face smoothed, and he quickly forgot that he’d been seething when he dismounted his horse mere minutes ago.

“Welcome home, husband.” She smiled.

He went to her immediately, allowing himself the pleasure of being in her arms.

“You seem tired,” she stated, rubbing his arm, but all Vincent could do was stare at her.

She was beautiful. Christ , she was. And she knew it too. She knew him, and how much he wanted her, how much he craved her. He sat right there, in the palm of the hand she was rubbing over his chest.

“I thought you might be up to discussing something that has been on my mind for a while now, but you should rest,” she told him, but he was already shaking his head.

“Tell me. If something bothers you, I should find a solution to it.”

He sounded like a lost puppy seeking her attention, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“I insist,” he added when she still didn’t say a word.

“I believe it is time we talk about producing an heir,” she said.

Vincent stilled. He stared into her brown eyes, but the words tumbled past his lips before he could stop them.

“Why do we need to talk about it? I told you, didn’t I? I do not care for children, heirs, or anything of the like.”

Juliana blinked, sitting still as she watched him, as though waiting for him to confirm that he was merely jesting. But he couldn’t because he meant every word.

He could barely handle a wife, how could he add a child or children to the mix?

“How could you say such, after all the nights we’ve spent together?”

Vincent drew in a breath, took her hands in his own, brought them to his lips, and kissed them. “It is the one thing I cannot compromise on. I do not want a family. I prefer things as they are,” he said and then rose from the bed, dropping her hands. “Please do not make this any harder than it already is.”

With that, he walked out of the room, leaving her with her thoughts.