Page 18 of Unraveled by the Duke (Scandalous Duchesses #1)

The Dowager Duchess opened her mouth to speak, leaning forward in her seat and gesturing as though to emphasize a point. But then her eyes flicked to her stepson. The smile that had teased her lips promptly faded, like the sun obscured by clouds.

She sat back, folding her hands in her lap. “Where is that tea? Alexander, will you hurry it along on your way out?” she demanded, looking away towards the fireplace.

Celia felt the snub and fought to keep her expression neutral, not letting the hurt show.

Hyacinth, catching on, hurried to Celia’s side and linked their arms. “I would like to hear all about it, Celia,” she said. “My brother can wait for his turn to walk with you.”

Celia could not help but laugh at the sweet innocence that Hyacinth exuded.

They walked past Alexander, out of the sitting room. Celia let Hyacinth guide her through the house until they stepped through a pair of French doors onto a paved area above a beautiful lawn.

Celia talked about art and her passion for it, while Alexander followed silently. She looked back at him more than once to catch him listening attentively.

Every time she did, though, he found reason to look away, as though he had only glanced at the two women and had no interest in their conversation.

You cannot pretend to be made of stone—not with me. I caught a glimpse of the real man beneath that hard exterior last night.

Before they had both tumbled into the pool.

Celia didn’t remember much of the night after that. A hazy recollection of Alexander carrying her back to the house and her bed. The sensation of being tenderly laid on the bed, the fire being stoked.

Did he undress me? Peggy would have been asleep at that hour, and I woke up in a clean nightdress, though my hair was still wet. Oh Lord!

She glanced back, her face flaming brightly, and caught Alexander looking at her. Their eyes held for a long moment.

She wondered if he was thinking about the same thing, the same moment. The idea that he might have seen her naked, that his hands might have touched her, even if only in the act of peeling off a sopping wet nightgown. It was quite thrilling.

They were descending a set of mossy stone steps, flanked by two ancient-looking statues of angels. Before them stretched a vast lawn, in the process of being scythed down by two gardeners.

“We have an arboretum. It is my favorite place in the gardens,” Hyacinth said, pointing to a stone wall painted white and hung with clematis and climbing roses.

Above the wall, trees were visible.

“Perhaps I am being a gooseberry? I wonder if Celia would rather be shown around the arboretum by you, Alexander,” she added with a secretive smile. “After all, a married couple no longer needs a chaperone.”

She stepped away from Celia, releasing her arm and gesturing for her brother to take her place.

Alexander inclined his head and stepped forward, offering his arm to Celia. She took it gingerly, not applying her touch too firmly. Beneath her hand, she thought she felt his muscles tensing. Even a light touch allowed her to feel his hard, unyielding muscles.

It must be damnably uncomfortable to be embraced by such steely muscles in bed.

“Shall we?” Alexander prompted courteously, as though reading her mind.

Her blush deepened at the thought.

Hyacinth giggled. “I will take a stroll about the lawn and flowerbeds. Enjoy!” she trilled.

Alexander began walking towards the arboretum.

“I do not remember putting myself to bed,” Celia blurted out, unable to help her curiosity.

“Yes, the shock of the immersion and the effect of the wine,” Alexander said.

“But I woke up in a clean nightdress,” Celia pointed out.

Alexander said nothing but looked at the path ahead of them.

She turned to him, searching his face for any hint.

After a moment, he looked down at her. “Was that a question? I did not hear one.”

“Would you have me ask you outright?” she asked.

“If I were the one who put you in a clean nightdress?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Oh.”

Celia knew she should have been relieved. But the notion of her husband—even though he was her husband in name only—undressing her was intensely exciting. The dissolution of that fantasy left a void inside her.

It is for the best. I am in a tangle over this man. If I do not disentangle myself, I believe I stand to experience the pain of a broken heart. I do not know if I can trust this man or his intentions. Is he a rake? Is he a gentleman? Is his coldness the truest reflection of his feelings?

Celia wanted to scream at the unanswered questions that were piling on her shoulders. All those unknowns were weighing her down.

“I woke Peggy, and she did the necessary. She was not happy at being woken,” Alexander said with a chuckle.

“She is plain-speaking. It is refreshing,” Celia noted.

“Indeed. You have spoken to her?”

“I have. She is the only company I have had at Finsbury.”

“She is a servant. I do not think you should engage her in conversation,” Alexander advised.

“Are you afraid of what she might tell me about your past? Or your family?” Celia taunted.

They had reached a wrought iron gate, woven with ivy and taller even than Alexander.

He paused with a hand on the bars. “I have nothing to hide, and my family certainly does not,” he said harshly. “You suggest that we do. I resent that.”

“Then why should I not engage her in conversation? She is not beneath me,” Celia protested.

“She is a servant, and you are a duchess.”

“She is a human being!”

Alexander opened the gate, allowing her to precede him.

Celia found herself silenced by the place that greeted her.

Trees formed a canopy above them, filtering the sunlight to a shady green.

The air was cool and had a delicious, earthy aroma.

Squirrels rattled the branches as they scurried across, and birds trilled joyously from their concealed perches behind screens of leaves and intertwined branches.

There was no path, just soft grass underfoot, giving way to mossy roots at the base of each tree. Ferns unfolded, and shade-loving plants grew in tumbling abundance.

It was primal and bursting with life, giving the appearance of being untouched by human hands, even though it had clearly been planted deliberately.

“She is… That is… I mean…” Celia stammered, looking around, unable to follow the thread of her thoughts.

“It seems to me that you are trying to discover secrets that you will not find. I have nothing to hide,” Alexander said. “That is my only objection to your chatter with the servants.”

“Do you think I am trying to spy on you? Why should I wish to?” she demanded.

Alexander splayed his hands. “I have not said so, nor do I think it. Though it would be understandable if you were angry at my forcing you into this marriage, given how much you value your freedom.”

Celia wanted to stamp her foot.

“I admit that I resented being shackled to any man; that is how I saw it, at first. But I wanted to act in the best interests of my family. That is why I accepted your proposal. If you do not want me to speak to your servants, then do not leave me without companionship. If you do not wish to spend time with me, then allow me to go to Banfield or come here. I am a person who needs the company of others. It is like air in my lungs or blood in my veins.”

“I suppose you must have felt isolated. I did not think it would matter. It would not matter to me,” Alexander said.

Celia felt frustration bubbling up inside her. Again, she wanted to stamp her foot.

“Well, I am. That is why I enjoyed drawing ordinary people so much. I take pleasure in drawing and painting gentry too, but ordinary people have such expressive faces. The stories of their lives are written all over them.”

Alexander stepped closer, making her breath catch. He seemed genuinely distressed by the sight of her upset. He reached out as though to embrace her, before lowering his arms.

He stopped just out of arm’s reach, clasping his hands behind his back. “What can I do?” he asked.

“There is a ball at Almack’s tomorrow evening. You could take me there. You may excuse yourself if you become bored.”

“I will not be bored,” Alexander replied.

He held her eyes, and she returned his unabashed stare.

At times like this, I find myself wondering if I have been wrong all along. He seems so genuine.

“I will not be bored, I promise you that,” he added with conviction.