“But not you,” Winston said, smiling slightly.
“Of course not, Your Grace,” George replied with an appalled expression. “I will take your secrets to the grave.”
“Let us hope Leo’s servants are equally as discreet,” Winston said. “Because if the Bow Street Runners find out what we have been up to, if they lock me up, then the Duchess will not be safe.”
“We will not fear anything yet,” George said. “Let us hope the Bow Street Runners were simply covering all their bases, and that they do not have any particular reason to suspect Lord Kingsley.”
“Let us hope,” Winston agreed, but he was not a man who liked to leave things up to hope or chance. He was a man who liked to make his own fate. Especially now that he had a wife to protect.
And as he climbed into bed a short while later, it was thoughts of his wife that filled his head. How beautiful she had looked at the wedding, nervous but determined. How smart and incisive she had been in the carriage. And that last look, when he had left her alone in her room, as if she wanted him to stay and share her bed…
It was almost too much for Winston to take.
Chapter Twelve
“How do I look, Elaine?” Vanessa asked, scrutinizing herself in the mirror of her vanity. “Do you think he will find me… pleasing?”
“Of course, Your Grace!” Elaine gushed, staring at Vanessa in the mirror with wide eyes. “You look lovely beyond words!”
Vanessa wasn’t sure about that. After two days on the road, she felt plain and tired with bags under her eyes and a pallid paleness to her skin. However, she had tried to get Elaine to rectify this by adding kohl above her eyes, powder to her face, and a touch of rouge to her cheeks. She had even applied some of the rouge to her lips.
“I do not look as if I am trying too hard, do I?” she asked after a moment. “He will not look at me and think I look like a painted doll?”
“Of course not, Your Grace!” Elaine said at once. “You are the picture of perfection!”
Vanessa swallowed and nodded. As insecure as she felt, she supposed she would just have to believe her lady’s maid.
They had arrived at Thornfield Castle that afternoon. The ride there had been bumpy, long, and cold, and she had been frightfully weary. However, the moment they had arrived, all Vanessa’s tiredness had vanished as she’d taken in the large and stunning castle that she would now be calling home.
It was old, she knew, dating back at least to the 14th century with a moat and drawbridge and a low fortified wall with parapets running along it to round towers from which flew flags bearing the Duke’s coat of arms.
“I cannot quite believe it,” she’d murmured as they’d driven through the bailey. “I live in a castle now.”
“It’s old-fashioned, I know,” the Duke had said, and she’d sensed that he was nervous for her to see it which surprised her. “But you will come to love it.”
“I already do,” she’d murmured. And inside, when she had been greeted by a cavernous hall filled with suits of armor and medieval wall hands embroidered with unicorns and dragons, she had fallen even more in love. It was like living in a fairytale.
The rest of the evening had passed quickly. There had been so much to unpack that they hadn’t even sat down to a formal meal together. In fact, she hadn’t seen her husband since he’d shown her to her rooms. But now, as night fell, she knew what was expected of her: to go to him for their official wedding night.
Which was why she was having Elaine do her up so nicely. She was determined to feel as confident as possible for such a daunting task.
“Right, well, I think I am ready,” Vanessa said, brushing her hands once more through her brown hair. Elaine had washed and brushed it, and it was shiny and soft.He will not reject me,she told herself.I do look lovely.
Elaine departed, and Vanessa stood and turned to the door on the right-hand side of the room that connected her bedchamber to her husband’s. Taking a deep breath, she crossed the room and without knocking, pushed open the door.
The Duke was sitting in a chair on the opposite side of the room, a glass of golden liquor in his hand. He was in a state of undress she had never seen in a man before—his jacket and waistcoat removed, his cravat undone, and his shirtsleeves rolled up. The front of his shirt was unbuttoned, and she could make out his broad, muscular chest underneath it.
The moment he saw her, the Duke stood up, his eyes widening as if in surprise.
“Duchess,” he murmured, setting down the glass of liquor. “What are you doing here?”
“I am…” she trailed off, flushing.Is it not obvious why I am here?
She steeled herself. Now was the moment for courage. “Your Grace,” she began, “we are m-married now and no longer t-traveling through inns on the road, and I thought…” But she could not get the words out. How was she supposed to say,And I thought you would want your first night rights to me.
She did not even fully understand what that meant, but she knew it was important in solidifying the marriage and producing children—which, surely, the Duke would want.
The Duke stood and set his glass of liquor on an end table. Slowly, he took a step toward her. To her surprise, his face was kind and gentle. She was used to him exuding an impenetrable coldness, but tonight, there was something softer in him.
