Page 16 of The Duke’s Second Bride (Regency Second Chances #4)

A va reached out to take Christian’s hand, hoping he didn’t notice the way her hand trembled, or the flush that rushed to her cheeks at the feeling of touch, strong and rough and steady, against hers.

It had been torturous, sitting in that carriage in silence with him. Not because it was disagreeable, exactly. But because the silence had left her with nothing really to pay notice to except for the feeling of his body pressed up against hers.

The weight of him. The heat.

And her mind had travelled other places, as well. Wondering perhaps what it would feel like to be pressed against him in other circumstances.

With every jostle of the carriage on the road, she was pushed towards him, and he towards her. After a while, it almost became too much to bear.

For hours, she stared out the window, just to avoid having to look at him.

Surely, if he were to look her in the eyes, he would somehow be able to deduce the lewd and obscene thoughts she was having about him?

Would be able to feel the heat of her skin, and the way her pulse raced at the nearness of him?

Could he feel it now?

If he did, he gave no indication. His gaze remained hard as stone, as always. Once she had safely descended from the carriage, he released her hand at once, then took off up the walkway towards the manor entrance with a briskness in his step. Ava felt nearly as though she had to jog to catch up.

The grounds were so much larger than anything she had been anticipating—lush green grass, speckled here and there with well-kept trees and bushes. Gardens cropped up closer to the house, also well-tended, and appeared to wrap around the back of the estate.

Ava could hardly fathom the size of everything. This was her new life, she realized. The weight of the realization settled on her twice over when she stepped inside the house.

A lineup of at least ten to twenty staff members stood at the ready when she and Christian entered. The most senior, an older woman with a no-nonsense expression, stepped forward.

“Your Grace,” she said, bowing to Christian, and then to Ava.

“And Your Grace. Congratulations, and welcome to Richmond Manor. I trust you will find everything to be up to order. Your room has been turned over for the night, and Luke’s governess has already begun preparing him for dinner. Food will be ready shortly.”

“Thank you, Miss Grant,” Christian said.

The rest of the house staff greeted them politely and efficiently. While none of them were so brisk as to be rude, they lacked the warmth Ava had known in her previous household. While her prior staff had been much smaller, she had felt as though she truly knew and cared for them, and vice versa.

It’s just because I’m new , she thought.

There were so many people that their names flew out of her head nearly as soon as they had been introduced.

She resolved to learn their names within the week, and to perhaps learn some small detail about them each.

Certainly, it was the responsibility of the lady of the house to inject some warmth into the ambience of the place.

Dinner was a brief and mostly silent affair.

Knowing that the lord, lady, and heir of the house would be weary from travel, the kitchen staff—a whole other cohort of workers that Ava had yet to meet—had prepared a simple stew, which they could eat with bread, and which would not weigh too heavily on their stomachs when they went to sleep.

“We shall have a more elaborate dinner tomorrow to celebrate your recent nuptials,” Miss Grant said stiffly.

“Thank you, Miss Grant,” Ava said to the housekeeper, smiling at the woman, who nodded but did not return the smile.

Ava tried not to let the lack of enthusiasm dull her own determination to get to know the woman and the rest of the staff with her.

“This is perfect. It is so delicious. Is it not, Luke?”

Luke nodded, his mouth too full of stew to talk.

“Isn’t it, Christian?”

It was the first time she had used his first name in conversation, she realized. Christian must have been coming to the same realization, as he looked at her a moment longer than usual, with his normal stony expression. After a second, he swallowed.

“Yes,” he said softly. Then he cleared his throat, looked back at his bowl. “Delicious indeed, Miss Grant,” he said louder to their housekeeper. “Thank you very much.”

From across the table, Ava felt flushed even by the moment of eye contact. As dinner continued, and his behavior continued to be frosty, tense, and odd, she wondered why.

Was it that he was still angry at her from all their bygone bickering? Why would he want to start off their marriage on such a foot?

Or could it be he was behaving tensely for some other reason?

Once they had finished eating, Luke’s governess came to fetch him to help him get ready for bed.

“Goodnight, Ava,” he said, running to her chair to give her a hug.

She returned the hug gratefully, some of the nervous ice in her soul thawing at the sight of the little boy running away.

If nothing else, at least this union meant she would get to help raise him.

“Your luggage has been brought in from the carriage,” came Christian’s voice from across the table, shaking her from her earlier train of thought.

She looked up. “Sorry?”

“The trunks you had sent from your old estate,” he said. “The servants brought them up to your … to the duchess’s chambers. If, and whenever, you see fit to ready yourself for bed, your garments will be there waiting.”

It was the most he had spoken to her all evening.

Ava stared at him as his words sank in.

Whenever you see fit to ready yourself for bed.

Of course.

She was his wife, now, and of course, he would certainly want to exercise his husbandly rights on their wedding night. No matter how he might have protested, no matter how cold he had been to her before. She supposed William had never been much warmer, himself.

“Very well,” she said. She could think of nothing else to say. She marked how the duke’s eyes widened slightly as she rose from the table, neatly leaving her napkin on her chair. “I shall go prepare for bed. Thank you for dinner.”

She let one of the maids show her to her room.

The duchess’s chambers were sumptuous. Dark blue velvet curtains hung along the walls, with matching bed hangings.

The maid she had come with, plus two more, all came to help her bathe and change into sleep clothing.

The nightgown she wore was one of her own, though on the newer side, simple white with blue trim.

Part of her wondered if he would want something else. Should she have worn her wedding dress? Some men liked that, she knew—being the one to undress their wives.

William had, on their wedding night. He had never taken his time with it or taken his time with her. He would usually tear the dress off her impatiently, barely getting her undressed at all before consummating the marriage.

Though she recalled it had initially seemed to please him, seeing her in the dress. As though it indicated some kind of ownership he had over her.

Which was all the more reason not to wear her wedding dress tonight, she supposed.

She was no blushing virgin, and there was no point in playing the part.

And regardless of what the duke’s preferences would be, she took pleasure in having the time and space to choose for herself what she would wear on her wedding night.

Let him react how he would when he came to say goodnight.

If he came to say goodnight.

Which …

He didn’t.

Over two hours had passed, and not so much as footsteps down the hallway.

Finally, Ava sat up in bed and peeked her head out the door.

If he wouldn’t come to her, she would go to him.

Christian finally went to his room after a while of poring over papers. No matter how long, the numbers seemed to swim in his head. It had been such a long day.

And no matter what, he could not stop his mind from returning to the thought of what Ava might be doing right now, barely a few rooms away.

He was only momentarily surprised by her abrupt departure from dinner.

As he knew himself, it had been a long day.

And likely longer for her; at least coming home to the manor for him felt like just that: coming home.

It was her home now, too, of course, but this was her first time seeing it, let alone setting foot inside.

Her old house in London, her old staff, her old rooms, none of it was here.

Her room.

Surely she was asleep by now. He wondered if she was having trouble sleeping on her first night in a new home. If she ever felt lonely. No, she was likely used to sleeping alone by now, same as he. But even though he was used to sleeping alone, the idea of going to bed alone tonight rankled him.

“What are you doing?” came a voice from the door.

He startled from half-awake to fully awake and turned to see Ava in the doorway to his room.

He had to consciously keep his jaw from dropping. Wearing only her nightgown, white with blue accents around the hems, and the fabric so finely woven that the candlelight through it gave just the faintest outline of her silhouette.

Christian blinked. It took him a moment to realize that this was real—Ava was here, real, standing in the doorway. He stood from his desk, the smaller desk he kept in his room for when he didn’t feel like using his office, and took a step towards her, rubbing his eyes.

“Just going over some paperwork. Finances, household business. Nothing that needs to be any of your concern.”

“I should think any household matters would be of great concern to me,” she said sharply.

He raised an eyebrow. “You are bold to come here late at night demanding to know what I am doing. The real question, wife, is what are you doing here? I should have thought you would be asleep by now.”