“Oh, well,” she whispered. “He must have been quite tired from the day.”
Mrs. Gaines led her to her bedchamber. It was spacious and beautiful, with a bed too large for her. It was a marvel of silk and velvet. The room was already warm, with a hearty hearthpromising a cozy night.
“Here is your bedchamber, Your Grace,” the housekeeper announced. “It is adjacent to His Grace’s own. I shall send you your new maid, Gertie, to assist you with your dress. A bath has already been prepared for you. Meanwhile, breakfast is served at eight. His Grace expects punctuality.”
Madeline frowned. Eight? She was an early riser herself, but she knew the rest of thetonpreferred late breakfasts. It was even considered unfashionable to eat too early. She suspected that there was more to the hour than what was said. It was intimidation.
“Thank you, Mrs. Gaines,” Madeline replied sweetly.
When the door closed behind her, Madeline let out a loud exhale. It seemed she had been holding her breath for hours, from the moment she waited to find out who her groom was until she was deposited into his house.
“He is crude,” she complained to her new room. “A barbarian dressed in fine clothes. Does he not know the proper custom in receiving a spouse? He still thinks he is living here alone?”
Wait. No. He had his niece and nephew with him, and maybe even his brother. So, what was that all about? The more she thought about it, the more she wondered if she could still keep her jovial personality in a place like that.
Madeline’s eyes darted to the bath, but she squeezed her eyes shut and, with a determined voice, uttered, “No. I will not be ignored. This is now my house, too.”
The new duchess would not wait for her maid. She had to confront her husband. If he thought that she would agree toa loveless marriage without communication like that, he had another thing coming. She would not let the sun rise on her new life without her being heard.
She stepped into the corridor. It did not even take long before she was in front of the double doors to his sanctuary. There, she knocked gently.
Silence.
“Your Grace?” she called out.
Nothing.
“Kenneth? It is very important that we speak. This will not do.”
The man could not even deign to give her a one-word answer. Anger rose hot within her chest. She was not a servant in this house. Yes, she came from a family whose reputation was in ashes, but she was a person who deserved respect.
Madeline pushed the handle merely to test it. She did not expect his door to be unlocked.
She stepped inside. The room was neat and orderly. It was only slightly bigger than her own room, but perhaps he needed more space for those books on the shelves that Portia would certainly be envious of.
Everything was in its rightful place. Everything, including his several pairs of boots by the wardrobe, was polished. The tidiness of the room was almost an assault on her. Her room back home was always a mess.
“He is not even in his room,” she muttered as she walked toward the massive four-poster bed.
Her bed was huge, but his own was even bigger. Did he toss and turn at night? Did he sleep fully dressed? The thought of other activities in his bed made her blush.
“I am pretty certain I directed Mrs. Gaines to deposit you straight to your rooms.”
“Your Grace, I...” Madeline spun around so quickly she almost tripped on the hem of her dress. Perhaps it was a terrible idea not to have waited for her maid, after all. She felt her face turn cold and pale.
The duke was standing by a small door, which seemed to lead to a private bath. He was dripping wet, wrapped in only one white drying sheet around his waist. The sheet seemed too small around him, displaying his broad chest and corded muscles. His body still emanated steam and the scent of his soap. Everything about him seemed perfect, just like his orderly rooms. However, Madeline had to remind herself that his demeanor was anything but.
It was clear, though, that this man was not the sort who only stayed within the confines of his study. This was a man who knew how to ride a horse and use his hands for labor. He had never told her these things, but she just knew. The evidence was in the broad set of his shoulders, the corded strength of his arms, and the powerful lines of his thighs, barely concealed by the drying sheet that seemed wholly inadequate for the task.
Staring at someone was rude. But how could she not be allowed to stare at her husband when he looked like that without his clothes on? Blood rushed to Madeline’s face as she realized how her husband made her pulse race.
Kenneth did not look in the least embarrassed. He moved slowly and deliberately, as if enjoying the scene.
“Ah, I see what this is about. Could you not wait for our wedding night?” he teased, his stern lips forming a small smirk. “Or are you simply eager to break all the rules presented to you?”
Madeline could feel her blush deepening, but anger somehow grounded her, much to her relief.
“I... I am not here for that,” she snapped, even as her eyes flickered to the sight of water droplets tracing the hard muscles of his abdomen. “I am here to tell you just how rude and insufferable you were... are. In fact, I have not met anyone who is quite so... so...”
