The word echoed in his head. He felt like someone was pressing down on his chest. His skin tingled and he swallowed.Why do I trust you?
Her sketches.That was too emotional of an answer and he needed to be rational. That was more difficult than he likedto admit, and he leaned back, massaging his jaw as he tried to school his thoughts. “You did not immediately accept my proposal.”
“I thought men did not like being rejected?” She arched an eyebrow, the barest hint of a smile curving across her lips.
He felt his own mouth twitch but held it in check. “I prefer to think of it as a negotiation, not a rejection. You took your time, you did not rush into accepting me. This told me two things: the first is that you are cautious which is a quality I prize highly. The second is that you do not court power and status for their own sake – such a woman would have had no qualms accepting my offer on the spot.”
An emotion flitted across her face too quickly for Theodore to name.
“This assessment was further confirmed when I received the invoices for your bridal wardrobe. Though you had not shied away from clothes appropriate to your station, you were hardly frivolous or extravagant. I suspect you would have ordered far less had I not given the modiste explicit instructions on the minimum number of outfits required.” He saw her eyes flash, lips pursing in irritation, and continued, “which is why I gave her such instructions. You seem like the sort of woman who will make do with what she has, and that may suit the daughter of an earl. It will not suffice formyDuchess.”
He saw a shiver run through her and his own heart quickened.I trust you.The words echoed around his head, making every hair on his body stand on end. But he could not say them aloud.
He massaged his chest. He felt as though there was an invisible rope tightening around him and Harriet. He saw her watching him, studying him as though he was a puzzle that she was determined to unlock.
“You have said many kind things about me…” She paused as though weighing up her next words. “But you have not answered my question. What happens to me if I do not meet your expectations?”
Theodore closed his eyes, using the moment as a brief respite. When he opened them, her face was pale and he knew she knew what his answer would be.
“Do not disappoint me.” His words cut through the air between them like an arrow finding its target.
He could not tell if it was a warning, an order or a plea.
CHAPTER 9
“He cannot take his eyes off you.” Louisa nodded—far less subtly than Harriet would have liked—towards Theodore.
Harriet felt her stomach tie itself into several complicated knots and forced herself not to look in his direction. Not that she needed to look at her husband to feel the truth of Louisa’s words.
The gooseflesh that covered her body was proof enough. The nape of her neck prickled; his gaze like a hand against her skin. She swallowed as she tried to draw Louisa’s attention away from Theodore and back to her, nearly upsetting the glass of champagne in her hand as she did.
She felt the sun on her skin, ticking away time more insistently than a grandfather clock. “I suspect that is because he wishes to be on his way.”
“If that were the case, he would have come to collect you by now.” Fiona shook her head. “He does not strike me as the sort of man who will bow to another’s schedule.”
“Thus far the day has been run with almost military precision.” Louisa agreed. “Though far more enjoyable than most military affairs.”
“More enjoyable still if you extended the celebration. You and the Duke would make a rather dashing sight on the dance floor.” Fiona folded her arms as she surveyed Harriet and Theodore.
Harriet tried not to imagine what it would feel like dancing with Theodore. He moved with graceful precision, yet she could not picture his imposing form on the dancefloor. She remembered the feeling of his fingers against her skin as he had slid her wedding band onto her finger.
It sent a rush of warmth through her body and she absently ran her thumb across the gold ring. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She glanced over her shoulder, their eyes met and she hastily looked away.
“He would probably be rather stiff. He is handsome, but the man is rigid as an oak.” Louisa added, and Harriet frowned, an odd sense of irritation seeping into her.
“I suspect he would be a rather graceful dancer. His movements are precise, calculated.” Harriet glanced towards Theodore who was now in conversation with his friend, Percival Kingman, the Duke of Wright.
“Well, there is only one way to find out.” Fiona gave Harriet a playful nudge. “You could always ask him for a dance.”
“Fi!” Catherine’s reprimand was half amused and half exasperated as Harriet choked on her champagne.
“You know that is not our arrangement.” Harriet spluttered her ears burning so brightly she was sure everyone would be able to see it. “More to the point, I have no wish to test his patience. He means to leave at noon, we have a long carriage ride ahead.”
“I still cannot believe you will not stop for the night.” Louisa shook her head. “I know he has hired guards for it, but honestly, why not get an inn and break up the journey?”
“Phoebe.” Harriet did not add that she was not sure if she was disappointed or relieved that they would avoid the intimacy of an overnight stay in an inn. “He wants to get home to her.”
“And what about what you want?” Louisa asked. “You are his duchess, Hettie, not his governess and he should remember that.”
