“It’s not my presence, not directly anyway, Your Grace,” she said, trying to be focused. “You must have noticed that the glass had been thoroughly scrubbed.”
“It does not change the fact that you are now the light of the estate, Duchess. You made all this happen. You make old things appealing again.”
The way he was watching her suggested that he found something else more appealing, but she held strong and did not move any closer to him. Then, after a beat, he frowned and looked at her as if she was not his wife but a colleague, instead.
“Do I disrupt your duties?” he asked, scanning the rest of the room.
“Mm. You can probably say slightly,” she replied, keeping her face serious even though she wanted badly to smile at this man.
“Mm.”
Suddenly, he looked pensive. She was surprised at the way he looked like he was shutting down immediately after he had shown her activities interest.
“You are right,” he conceded, after seemingly studying her with his amber eyes. The surrender surprised her.
It was like a dance with him. He’d blatantly flirt with her. Then, he would take several steps back. It was confounding to try to keep pace with him. So, Daphne stood silently and waited.
What will happen next?
The Duke stepped away from the window and crossed the space between them. Flecks of gold threads in his locks of hair were highlighted as he left his place at the window and took up space directly in front of her. Daphne gulped. Try as she might to control herself, she could not help but be unnerved by their sudden proximity.
“You are not a child, Duchess. You are the only person who has ever shown any interest in defying me. Most people would say yes to please me or to appease me, not because they truly agree with me.”
His eyes inexplicably drifted to her mouth—the same mouth that could not say anything at the moment. Her lower lip trembled. Something must have happened to the air around them because she could not breathe.
“But that’s what I like about you. You aren’t afraid to be yourself with me.”
Daphne wanted to protest and tell him that yes, she was afraid. She was afraid of how she was leaning toward him instead of away from him. She was frightened by his ever-changing moods, and she worried that she might never truly understand what mattered to him. But more than anything, she was terrified of the secret self he kept locked up tight. While he was kind and generous to his staff, there was another version of the Duke—one that was commanding and perhaps…something else entirely.
“I—Your Grace, I’m always afraid,” she admitted, but not specifically about how she behaved around him. “Men like my father and Briarwood made me so.”
“You aren’t afraid of me, at all, Duchess,” the Duke said, now so close she could smell him and feel the heat radiating from his body. “I believe you are more afraid of yourself when you are in my presence.”
She held back a gasp. He was right. After all these weeks they’d spent pirouetted around one another, he had finally drawn close enough to read her completely.
His breath was on her. So close. Her lips parted and Daphne wondered if her husband would kiss her there in the corner, surrounded by the light he’d just been admiring.
Then, he stopped an inch from her mouth, leaving the warmth and minty smell of his breath on her. She clenched her fists in an effort to stop herself from trembling.
“Know this. You have my full attention, my wife. I have other responsibilities, but nobody has both fascinated and tested my patience at the same time,” he murmured, his body still leaning towards her.
This time, she tried not to flinch. “Good, then. I have been hoping to gain your attention and your approval, Your Grace. I am partially satisfied to know that my efforts have not been entirely wasted on you, husband.”
The Duke of Wolfcrest stared at her for a long, glorious moment. Daphne did not break eye contact with him. She wanted him to see her, to truly see all she had done. Daphne wished that her husband knew how much she craved his attention and that at this moment, she would be willing to do practically anything to keep him fixed right in this spot.
But, almost as if the Duke could sense her yearning and was bent on denying her the privilege of continuing to stare deeply into his eyes, he straightened himself and ran a hand through his hair.
Is he angry?
Daphne did what she could to read his expression, but she found the task challenging. His features were suddenly inscrutable.
Is he hesitant to give into his own wishes…as well as fully satisfy mine?
He gave her a clipped nod, took a deep breath, and said, “I shall then seek less demanding company this evening.”
She was speechless. She had not wanted the Duke to misconstrue her words and think of her as demanding anything for him. She wanted him to embrace her, to fall naturally into her arms, and give her what she longed for throughout the days and nights. While she wished for his touch, the Duke put distance between them. He did not understand her needs and desires and would not allow her to correct his assumptions.
Adrian believed that after that confusing encounter with his proper wife, the best thing to do was seek Mr. Kettering at The Serpent’s Coil. Though the name carried a negative connotation, the tavern was mostly respectable and could be found three villages away from Wolfcrest.
