“They learn not to err the same way, Your Grace.”
Daphne hoped that the maid would expound upon this point, but no further conversation developed between them. Clara excused herself so she might go in search of more rose petals to add to the water and Daphne gladly dismissed her.
It is strange.
She knew that she had taken steps toward earning the Duke’s trust because he seemed pleased by her sense of propriety. But she also understood that her new husband had a peculiar temperament.
To be both strict and kind, as Clara described him, was rather a feat.
As Daphne sank lower into the tub, she wondered what she might do to endear herself to her husband, for that was what she wanted above all things.
To be safe and protected was nice, a necessity, but to be loved and adored…that was her dream.
Chapter Seven
“Asingle orchid, Duchess?” the Duke asked in a tone that was smooth as silk. “I thought you would have the house decked in white roses. Wasn’t that your preference?”
They were seated in the dining room, too far away from each other and with a distracting flower right in their midst. The aromatic scent from the single bloom somehow overpowered the sumptuous dishes that filled the table, but not by much. Not really.
Daphne was focused on the centerpiece she had chosen: a crimson Cattleya orchid. She didn’t know what the Duke was talking about. She still had the orchid decked with snow white roses. They just weren’t the highlights of the arrangement. The rest of the room was well-illuminated with candelabras. She didn’t like shadows. The golden pools of light made her new husband’s black dinner coat shimmer.
“Well, I do love white roses, but Mrs. Fletcher said that the arrangement lacked drama, Your Grace,” she replied, using a completely even tone. Despite her calm exterior, however, her heart pounded in her chest. The Duke had that effect on her. “I do agree that the room needs a single point of interest that draws the eyes of everyone who passes by here.”
“Defiance,” he declared, smiling as if his own presumption pleased him so much. “Fascinating. To think that we will have dinner with that in sight.”
Daphne noted that despite his teasing, her husband had ensured that every dish she loved from childhood was present on the table. Her mouth watered at the sight of the roast lamb. The loaves of bread had been sliced thickly and laid across a platter that was directly in front of Daphne. She imagined how her sister Marianne would be happy to see that vegetables were in abundance on the table together with caramelized apples and other treats. The meal had many splendorous qualities, but she could also sense calculation in the choices.
“Defiance? No. How could I defy you when you’ve served me some of the best meals I’ve ever seen in my life?” she said, smirking at him. He was making her want to play his game. “I am merely trying to improve our surroundings.”
“You have succeeded, Duchess. My eyes went straight to the orchid as soon as I entered the room. I like that you made that happen.”
“I believe I am expected to improve the atmosphere of the estate. It is a duty that I am familiar with, having listened to my older sisters talk about the things they did for their husbands when they first became married.”
“A pity, then. I was hoping that you did it to provide me with personal attention,” he said, his eyes bright with mischief. She stared at him for a long moment watching the depth of his deep orbs sparkle.
“Your Grace is always perfectly attended to,” she retorted, using the same light voice, while not so subtly nodding at the footmen standing by the wall, waiting for orders. “You lack for nothing.”
The Duke chuckled softly, a sound that made her suppress her own gleeful smile. She loved listening to the sound of his delighted laughter. The footman moved forward and pulled the lid off a tureen in front of the Duke. She could not tell what sort of bubbling dish swirled inside the crockery, but she took pleasure in seeing her husband’s grin spread wider.
“I am fully aware,” he murmured as he lifted a small serving spoon, dipped it in the saucy concoction, then ladled some onto his plate, “and I do not lack for gratitude. However, I seek more from you than insight into my affairs. I want stimulation from you. I need someone who can make running the estate more interesting. You did provide me with such needed entertainment, but I still prefer you to any of the ornaments here.”
Daphne felt her cheeks warm. She didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted. She tried to hide her bewilderment by keeping her voice cool. “I am no ornament, Your Grace. Some ornaments are beautiful, but also sturdy and resilient. Perhaps you wouldn’t know that with your preoccupation with your ledgers.”
“You are, indeed, a challenge,” he said thoughtfully as he chewed a bit of his dinner. “Every moment, I am seeing more why Briarwood has become obsessed with you. But unlike him, I have no wish to merely possess you or put you on a shelf where you might gather dust.” He took another small taste of the thick, brown sauce, then smiled at her. “I am willing to take the challenge that is you.”
They shared a long look, then the Duke motioned for the footman to carry the tureen to Daphne’s end of the table. With the dish now in front of her, she was free to try the rich, savory sauce as well.
The meal progressed from there as the pair fell into a bit of jovial conversation. Soon Daphne felt more comfortable. She realized that the Duke simply liked talking that way with her. She wondered if he was flirtatious with everyone and was not certain if she liked the thought at all.
With Briarwood, she was certain of the possibility of the man wanting her as a possession. She was not that certain about Wolfcrest. He seemed flirtatious, throwing compliments here and there. It was a more self-assured kind of courtship. However, he was careful enough not to overstep. He had nevertouched her inappropriately. Even when they were walking together, he kept a respectable distance.
Despite that, the air was thick with what she could only guess was sensuality. It made her breathe faster and squirm in her seat. It must be the way he drawled his words or watched her with heavy-lidded eyes. When the tension got too intense, he would return to his former bantering tone, and they would feel like good friends once more.
“You’ve gone to so much trouble for this dinner, Your Grace,” she said softly, even as she took a spoonful of caramelized sugar and spooned it into her mouth. Her mother would be horrified to know that she was being indulged in the Duke’s estate. “You know what I like, and you’ve given so much attention to detail.”
He was suddenly more serious. “For you, Duchess, it’s no trouble at all.”
“Y-yet…”
