“So what?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, but not making any move to dress himself. Then again, what would Madeline do if he dressed in front of her?
I would probably faint.
“You... you left me standing at the front door without even giving me a tour of the house or introducing me to your staff, except for Mrs. Gaines. You hardly spoke to me in the carriage. Is that how you treat your new wife?”
Kenneth reached for a robe and finally wrapped it around himself. He pulled the sheet from under it, thankfully, and rested it on a velvet armchair. Was he trying to prove himself less uncouth than she thought? He approached her slowly, like a predator about to pounce. His feet made no sound on the rug.
“Is there any point to this discussion?” he rasped, the humor completely gone from his face. “We have signed a contract. We have exchanged our vows. Now, you are in Huntington Housewith a bath drawn for you, which is getting colder as we speak. Certainly, Gertie is now beside herself for not being able to do her duty.”
“W-what?”
For a moment, Madeline’s mind turned to Gertie. She did not know that a lady’s maid might think it a failure not to be able to help her mistress bathe. Was he lying about that?
“The point of this discussion is common decency! Having a conversation and dinner with each other! I am, after all, your wife. You should at least—”
“At least what?” he interrupted. “You should not have sent that letter if you dreamed of romance and sweet words.” His eyes narrowed as he stepped closer to her. He was so near she could almost feel the heat of his body. “I was under the impression that the letter was from a sensible woman who believes in duty and discretion. It felt like it was from someone who knows exactly what is expected of her and is willing to deliver. What happened to that woman?”
“I did not send that letter!” Madeline blurted out. “My grandmama wrote it and signed it with my name. She knew that I would never choose a husband in such a manner! Like a business transaction!”
Kenneth froze, then. Something in the air changed. “Your grandmother wrote it?”
“Yes, she did. I am certain you have an idea why she would do that. Yes, she is a woman of duty and discretion. She would do anything to ensure the futures of her granddaughters, and I? I would do anything for my family.”
“This is unfortunate,” Kenneth huffed, with a bitter laugh. “However, the deed is now done. Even though you may not find the romance you were hoping for, and I never expected to be screamed at in my own bedroom, we are now married.”
“I was not screaming!” Madeline yelled.
“If that is not screaming, I am afraid of what might constitute screaming,” Kenneth countered. “Still, you must accept the fact that you are now the Duchess of Huntington and certain behaviors are expected of you.”
Madeline looked at her husband. For a split second, she thought she saw the wariness rising behind the coldness of his eyes. In the moment of getting that glimpse, her soft demeanor returned, only to make a plea.
“Please, Your Grace,” she begged. “We will be tied to each other for the rest of our lives. Can we not at least try to make the best of it? We could discover more of each other, even become friends...”
“I do not have time for friends,” Kenneth replied coldly. “I did not marry for companionship. I expect far more important things from you.”
When he took another step, Madeline could no longer breathe. There was barely any space between them now.
“As you already know, I require a duchess who knows how to efficiently manage a household. I want someone who can take care of my brother’s children, make them behave like civilized members of society. Their father, your father’s apparent old friend, seems like a lost cause. Most of all,” he continued, “I require an heir. Those are the terms of your duty.”
Madeline managed to temper a gasp. “Is that all I am to you? A nursemaid, a governess, and a broodmare? Are you always so... transactional?”
“Transactional?” he echoed. “Yes. Absolutely.”
Kenneth reached out. Madeline held her breath. He did not grab her. Instead, his thumb traced slowly from her chin up along her jaw, unhurried and deliberate, as if he had every right to touch her and knew it. His skin was rough against hers, and the contrast made her stomach drop. She could feel the heat still radiating from his body, smell the cedar of his soap, and it was making it very difficult to remember why she was angry with him in the first place.
“You told me the things you wanted to say, Madeline,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to her lips. “Now that you have said them, I suggest you go back to your bedchambers to prepare.”
Madeline looked into his eyes, trying to read his thoughts. Her heart hammered in her chest. It was like a forest fire had been lit within her.
“Prepare?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. There was also a little tremble to her voice. “Prepare for what?”
Chapter 8
“Do you really want to know?” Kenneth whispered, grabbing her by one arm. It was firm, but gentle, his rough thumb quickly soothing her skin even though he had not hurt her. She did not feel any danger from him, not of that kind, anyway.
Madeline did not know why she was not trying to escape. Perhaps she needed an answer. What did she have to prepare for? A part of her knew the answer, but she wanted him to say the words. She wanted to hear her husband tell her there would be more to their marriage than convenience.
“Yes, I want to know,” she whispered back, her hands resting on his chest. He felt so solid under her touch. She wanted more.
