Page 77 of Wedded to the Cruel Duke
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Moving into her new bedchamber took very little time. In fact, it required less than a day for a battalion of maids under Amelia’s supervision to go about hauling Phoebe’s things to the room adjacent to that of her husband.
Settling in had been another matter entirely, however—one that evoked a rush of heat to her cheeks as she recalled how Charles had intended to see her settled into her new accommodations.
“Darling.”
“Hmm?” she replied, ducking her head into her book to hide her flaming cheeks.
“If you keep looking like that, I might be compelled to lock the library doors.”
Her cheeks flared hotter. “Right now?” she squeaked.
“Right this very moment,” he affirmed with a smirk.
Phoebe watched as he set his book down and moved closer to her. Truly, there was no sating her husband. From the moment they had consummated their marriage, they… had done very little else.
Even Whiteson had begun to complain from the lack of attention he had been receiving, the poor thing. In response, Charles had merely seen it fit to bribe the feline with all its favorite food.
Charles, she soon realized, had a decidedly roguish side to him—one that he only showed to her, fortunately. If the Spinster Club had already been stirred merely by his physical looks, she had no doubt her husband would send those poor women into a fainten masseif he so much as smiled naughtily at them the way he often did to her.
“I thought that with this weather, it would be a perfect day to promenade!” she declared instead.
Charles frowned. “A promenade? Today?”
“Right this very moment,” she confirmed with an emphatic nod of her head.
“All right,” he relented. “We can take a turn about the gardens…”
“No, not the gardens!” she groaned. “Charles, we need to see other people besides each other.”
Her husband crossed his arms before his sculpted chest. “Do enlighten me as to why I would even consider such a thing.”
“Because it would be fun,” she cajoled him, leaning into him and batting her eyelashes in the manner she had once seen Daphne do. “And it would be good for you.”
“I doubt it.”
“Oh, don’t be so theatrical! Besides, the place I have in mind is rather isolated with very few passersby. You don’t have to worry on that front.”
Eventually, Phoebe proved that she was a master in the art of convincing a stoic recluse like her husband and they soon found themselves promenading along a shaded path in the local park.
It was nothing like Hyde Park, of course, but there was a certain tranquility to it that was absent from the renowned London park. There were definitely far fewer promenaders about and most of them were from neighboring estates that bordered those of Wentworth Park and Townsend Manor.
Charles had stiffened at the very beginning, but as Phoebe curled her fingers about his arm and quietly pointed out her favorite spots, she soon felt him relax and he even began to reply quietly to her questions.
They were set to make a final turn about the path when she heard a familiar voice calling out to her.
“Phoebe! Oh, Phoebe, is it truly you?”
They both turned around to find Daphne running to them with one hand holding onto her bonnet to keep it from flying off her head. Her eyes were bright when she saw her sister, but she visibly shrank back when she laid eyes on her brother-in-law. Behind her, Minerva trailed back with her nose stuck in yet another of her books.
“No, it is not me, dearest,”she heard Minerva murmur under her breath, prompting the youngest sister to scowl.
“My Lord,” Daphne began, sketching a curtsy. She nudged at Minerva to do the same.
“That… that would not be necessary, Miss Daphne,” Charles told her with a look of discomfort. “We are family after all.”
Daphne seemed a little confused as she looked towards her sister and then towards him. “Oh, yes. Indeed.” She nodded her head like a little bird pecking on grain. She turned towards Phoebe once more with a look of excitement, as if there was something she wished to say, but could not say it out loud.