Page 91 of Wedded to the Cruel Duke
He scoffed. “You can clear your mindhere.”
She shook her head sadly. “I cannot, Your Grace.”
She watched as he reeled back in astonishment. He had probably not expected her to refer to him so coldly by his title. He took a few staggering steps backward, his hand reaching for the door handle.
“I forbid you from going out, wife,” he told her quietly, before he left and shut the door behind him.
She watched the closed door—yet another one that stood between them. This one was merely physical, but the emotional distance between them was much greater.
“I would like to see you try and stop me,” she murmured with narrowed eyes.
She needed to get out, to get away from the stifling air of Cheshire Hall, before its oppressive weight could make her learn to hate Charles.
She wanted to understand him—she really did. But he was making it impossible for her and she feared that the longer this dragged on between them, the worse it was going to get.
She sighed as she bent down to pet Whiteson’s silky fur. “We never should have left Wentworth Park, Whiteson.”
Deep in her heart, she feared that the longer they stayed in London, the more they would end up inflicting greater pain on each other.
In the end, Phoebe did not listen to Charles’ warning at all and had the stables prepare her carriage to head to Bond Street. Earlier, she had a footman send a note to her sister that shewould meet her at her favorite milliner and Daphne had happily replied that she would be there at three o’clock in the afternoon.
The busyness that was inherent in the streets of the city proved to be a rather weak diversion for Phoebe as her thoughts remained in Cheshire Hall with her brooding husband. She had learned from Ambrose that he had holed himself up in the study once more and was unlikely to emerge until dinnertime.
Maybe he might not even join me for supper, she thought to herself miserably. She was quite certain that the excellent staff had prepared such wonderful meals for her, but it could not quite repel the coldness left by Charles’ absence on the table.
A sudden jolt of the carriage snapped her out of her thoughts and she heard the horses whinnying from the outside.
“Your Grace?” The coachman knocked on her door.
“Is something amiss, Matthews?” she asked him.
“I’m afraid so, Your Grace. One of the wheels broke down.”
Phoebe sighed inwardly. It seemed that nothing was going well for her today.
She peered out of the carriage and felt some relief when she saw that the milliner’s shop was not too far away.
“That is perfectly all right, Matthews,” she told him with a polite smile. “The shop is not too far from here. I can walk all the way there and you can come by after the wheel has been fixed.”
The coachman paused with a doubtful expression, but Phoebe took that opportunity to alight from the carriage with a brilliant smile.
“The weather is pretty good today. Go and have the wheel fixed,” she urged him, handing him a few coins to see that the task was done.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” the coachman accepted the coins. “I shall return to your side in no time.”
She nodded at him with a smile, before she started walking down a quiet alley. Phoebe had always thought that walks were rather beneficial—to people, anyway. In the past, she found that a brief respite from company often helped her clear her head and heaven only knew she needed it presently.
She was not quite so sure what was happening with Charles, but sheknewthat he was not well. Whether it was London itself that dredged up some very painful memories for him, or the demands that were now required of him as a Duke, she could not tell.
I just want to share in his burdens somehow, she thought to herself.I know he wishes to protect me, but I do wish he would not push me away all the time.
She had walked perhaps halfway to the store, entrenched in her thoughts, when she heard a familiar voice calling for her.
“Your Grace! Your Grace!”
She turned around and found Lord Scunthorpe alighting from his carriage with a bashful smile on his face. Jogging, he made his way to her, looking a little out of breath.
“What are you doing here?” he asked her.