“I hope you’ve learned your lesson now. Do not disobey me again,” he stated, his voice cold, flat, and final.
He turned on his heel without saying another word and strode away down the hallway toward his study, leaving her trembling, alone, and impossibly aching in the deepest parts of herself.
She stood frozen against the wall. She brought a hand to her mouth and touched her stinging lips, the taste of him still haunting her tongue. His quick, absolute retreat sliced through her, landing directly on her deepest wound.
Was it all a mistake? Am I a mistake to him?
She reached up and touched the cool, uneven skin of her scar-marred cheek.
Of course, she thought, the sudden rush of tears blurred her vision.
The Duke might tolerate a protective stepmother, but he certainly could not tolerate an irrevocably scarred wife.
She was foolish to think otherwise.
Chapter Thirteen
“Look, Papa!” Oliver called out, pointing an eager finger out the carriage window. “There are so many coaches in London! And the buildings are so close together. It is remarkable!”
Benedict, who was staring fixedly out the opposite window, finally lowered his gaze to look at his son. “It is a city, Oliver. They build vertically because space is limited. Pay attention to the traffic. The drivers here are fools. Best you learn that now.”
Isla watched the exchange, her hand resting lightly on Oliver’s shoulder. She offered a small smile to the boy, then finally addressed the Duke.
Their journey to the London townhouse was undertaken in the same constrained silence they had grown accustomed to in the week after that stolen kiss.
“Ye daenae seem eager to return to the city, Yer Grace,” she said, her voice flat, matching his formal tone. “This is at yer behest. I would have been happy enough to remain at Ealdwick, much as I like to see me family.”
He turned his head slowly, his azure eyes meeting hers for the first time in days. Isla noted instantly just how devoid they were of warmth, and she wrapped her coat tighter around her body for heat.
“I find London necessary, not enjoyable. I have estate business that must be concluded in person. The social obligations are a regrettable necessity as well, to secure our marriage in the eyes of theton.”
“Regrettable for whom?” Isla countered, letting a thread of her usual defiance slip through as she lowered her voice to a whisper. “For me, perhaps, who will have to endure theton’scuriosity? Or for ye, who must present a wife ye can barely tolerate in private, even on the very best of days?”
Benedict stiffened, his jaw clenching.
Ah, yes. A response…Not a positive one, but a response nonetheless,Isla thought to herself.
He spoke through gritted teeth, his voice barely audible over the noise of the busy street. “Your role is to stand next to me, smile, and remain mostly, but not entirely, silent. That should not be an onerous burden, even for you. We will return to Ealdwick soon enough.”
Isla gave a short, hard laugh that held no humor. “Do ye truly believe that is all they will require of the Highland bride? They will dissect every movement, every look. They will want to know why ye married a woman like me.”
“Then give them nothing to dissect,” Benedict clipped. “We are presenting a united front. You will conduct yourself as a duchess should. You will wear the gowns and jewels I provide, and you will remember that every action you take reflects upon my house.”
“Our house.”
“Yes. Our house.”
Oliver, clearly sensing the sudden, sharp tension, quickly pointed at a passing vendor. “Look, a man with a trained monkey! Ooh! Did you see it, Papa? He had a little coat on!”
The Duke’s attention snapped back to his son. “Yes, Oliver. I saw it. A silly display.” He reached out and gently adjusted the boy’s collar with something resembling a smile on his face. “We are almost home now. Remember your manners when we arrive.”
Isla leaned back against the plush velvet, her composure regained. “I will see to my manners as well, Yer Grace,” she murmured, her emerald eyes now fixed on his face. “We will all fall in line.”
The carriage pulled to a sudden halt in front of an exquisite townhouse, which was three stories high with ornate windows and a large, gilded door.
“We are home,” Benedict said with a grumble. “Let us go inside.”
Why am I so nervous?Isla thought.
