Perhaps it was the expectation that did it? After a month of spending every waking hour alone, convinced that she and her husband would never see eye to eye or even stand being in the same room as one another, she was suddenly all too aware of how important this singular moment might prove to be.
This was not about trying to convince him to have an heir. It was not about trying to lure him into a false sense of security, making him fall in love with her, or any of that nonsense. It was simply about fostering an environment of comfort and compatibility, because Florentia knew that she could not experience anothermonth like the last.Which means that I must be on my best behavior, no matter what.
Easier said than done.
“Your Grace, the duke said as he appeared in the doorway of the dining room. “I apologize for being late.”
“Apology accepted,” she said, sitting herself up and smiling pleasantly. “On one condition.”
He took half a step forward and paused. “Which is?”
“You stop calling me Your Grace,” she teased. “Florentia will do just fine. Just as I plan on referring to you as Hudson. If it pleases you.”
He nodded his head and continued toward her, taking his seat at the head of the table. “Hudson is fine, so long as we are not in company.”
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He was just so formal and so very serious. So straight and without humor. Strange that she did not find it as obnoxious as she might have done. Stranger still that she found it somewhat endearing.
“And you were not late,” she began once he was seated. “I arrived earlier than expected. I overestimated how long it would take for me to dress and then found myself standing about in my roomlike a dolt.” She tittered. “So, I figured I would try and beat you here.”
“Understood,” he said simply. She frowned at the response; he noticed and cleared his throat. “And might I say, you look lovely.”
“Oh, stop.” She waved him down jokingly. “Although it is appreciated.”
To that, he gave her a tight-lipped smile, seemingly unsure of how to respond. This, predictably, led to a silence building between them, both seated at the table, looking about awkwardly as they waited for their food to arrive. Anything that might break through the tension.
He really is awkward. Not nervous, I do not think. Or unsure. It is more that he is not used to having to entertain and thus doesn’t know how. Likely he thinks small talk to be a waste of time.
She eyed her husband curiously. Still, she found him ruggedly handsome, and despite how he behaved, she knew that would not change. Dressed darkly tonight in a typical dinner-suit, his brooding features and deep eyes were pronounced by the firelight that came from the chandelier hanging overhead. He was not dim-witted, however, nor was he slow. In fact, as she watched him further, Florentia sensed a fierce intelligence in the man, perhaps even the softer side Albina had mentioned. If only she knew how to bring it out.
“Shall we have a drink?” she asked to break the silence.
“Yes,” he agreed. “I think that will be nice.” He looked to the member of staff who stood in the corner and clicked his fingers. A second later and a bottle of wine was being held before them. “Yes,” the duke said as he studied it. “That will do nicely.”
Florentia smiled in thanks as the dark liquid was poured into her glass. And then she offered that smile to Hudson before taking a sip. She swished it about her mouth and swallowed. “Not bad.”
“It is from the south of France, I believe,” Hudson offered. “Although I must admit, I am not a savant when it comes to vineyards. That has always been Elias’ss area of expertise.”
“Perhaps I shall indulge next month,” she said humorously. “Once I grow bored of the orangery.” To that, Hudson frowned, almost looking upset by the notion. “I am just joking,” she assured him with a light chuckle. “Just a joke.”
“Ah, yes...” He laughed awkwardly. “Forgive me...Florentia, there will be times where I might miss the punchline of a joke. I may not even realize one is being told. Please, do not take it personally.”
“Lucky for you, my ego does not rest on my sense of humor.”
“No, it is far too big for that, I am sure,” he said with a light scoff.
“Your Grace...” She frowned and tilted her head. “Did you just make a joke?”
“Was it funny?”
“Not even a little,” she laughed and shook her head, beaming so that he would realize she was not making fun. “But I did appreciate the effort. Although be warned...” She winked at him. “If you choose to mock me, I shall do the same to you. And something tells me that this will be one battle I am sure to win.”
Most shockingly, Hudson smiled. It was not a large smile. Nor was it warm. But it was real, pleasant in how earnest it was, and Florentia could see just how pleased he was by his ability to make a joke without it seeming forced. “I best watch my tongue then. I am still recovering from our last fight.”
“That?” She tittered, took a sip of her wine, and raised her eyebrows at him. “That was nothing. I might look like a rose, but I have hidden many a sharpened thorn. You would do best to avoid them.”
He took a sip of his wine also, his dark eyes locking onto her own. “I appreciate the warning. Although, understand that I am not the push-over you might think.”
“Is that what you presume I think of you?” she laughed. “Believe me, nothing could be further from the truth.”
