“In this case, you do,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “You’ve missed far too many meals, and I’m not leaving until you have eaten at least a little bit.”
“It’s bad enough that you took away my choice of a husband,” she argued furiously as the injustice of her situation once again overwhelmed her. “Now you want to tell me when I have to eat? I won’t be bossed around by you, even if you are my husband!”
“I’m not bossing you around,” he replied, his voice laced with incredulity. “You haven’t eaten in a day! More, since you skipped breakfast the day of our wedding.”
“Well, that’s my choice. It’s on me.”
“And if you die, it will be on me!”
Rosalie opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. She thought the Duke was being a tad overdramatic, but she couldn’t deny that it had been a long time since she’d eaten, and her health was starting to concern her as well.
“Does any of this look good?” he asked more gently when she didn’t argue. “I can have the cook make something else if you don’t like any of this. I asked Clara your favorites, but…”
“No, this is fine,” she said quickly. “It’s not the quality of the food that’s the issue.”
“Then what is the issue?”
He was watching her closely, but his expression was not entirely sympathetic, and for a moment, Rosalie was tempted to tell him.
But how can I explain something I myself don’t fully understand? Besides, why should I trust him with my secrets when he is the one who has ruined my life? Even my sisters don’t know this about me.
“The issue is that I’ve lost everything,” she said instead. “My home, my autonomy, my sisters, and most importantly, my hope for the future. Now, I’m married to a man I hardly know in a house that feels strange and alien, and it’s all so overwhelming that I don’t have any appetite.”
Her stomach chose that exact moment to growl loudly.
There was a long silence. Rosalie flushed with embarrassment and braced herself to hear him begin to taunt her, but to her surprise, he didn’t smirk or point out that she was lying. Instead, he pulled out the chair from her vanity and sat down on it in front of the bed.
“Let’s make a deal,” he said slowly. “Since I am still a stranger to you—and you are a stranger to me—I will allow you to ask me questions, and I will answer each one honestly. I don’t much care to talk about myself as I value my privacy above all else, but I will do this for you so that you can feel more comfortable in my home and our marriage. But for each question you ask, you must take a bite of food.” He raised an eyebrow. “Does that sound like a fair trade?”
Rosalie hesitated. She had heard about the Duke’s famous reticence to discuss himself. Because he was so taciturn and refused to divulge anything, rumors circulated widely about him. Most of them were bad rumors, things she was sure had been exaggerated like how he’d had a series of mistresses in thedemi-mondeor how he’d bankrupted several lords and of course, the terrible crime he’d committed that had earned him his fearsome epithet. But few people knew much about the truth of the man, other than these rumors.
And this was her chance to find out. Her chance to get to know the man she’d married. Perhaps even her chance to find out if he really was the Best of Carramere.
And all she had to do was eat…
Her stomach growled again, and she made up her mind.
“All right,” she said, and she moved around to the opposite side of the bed and sat gingerly on it so that they were facing each other from across the bedspread.
The Duke folded his hands in his lap. “What do you want to know?”
Rosalie thought for a moment. Now that she had the opportunity to find out whatever she wanted to know, she wasn’t sure where to start.
“Well… I suppose I’m curious if you wanted to get married,” she began slowly.
The Duke looked surprised by the frankness of the question. “Well, I wanted to do the right thing by you,” he said at last, “so yes, I suppose I did. But I had never thought I would get married.”
“Why not?”
“No no,” he said, wagging a finger. “You have to take a bite first. That was our deal.”
She grimaced then reached for a mince pie. Raising it to her lips, she inhaled, and the smell was so rich and wonderful that she nearly closed her eyes in delight. Instead, she took a small bite then set the pie quickly down on the tray. It tasted so good that her whole mouth watered, and tears came to her eyes, but she looked down quickly so that the Duke wouldn’t see.
As slowly as she could, she chewed the pie then swallowed it down. Her stomach growled again, yearning for more food.
“Why did you think you’d never get married?” she prompted.
“Ahh.” He leaned back in his chair. “Because there was no need. I wasn’t supposed to be the Duke of Carramere. It was only after I became the heir and then inherited the title that the question of marriage and children became important.”
