Page 53 of Her Wily Duke

Whatever the reasons, Benedict felt an odd thrill at delivering orders and seeing her agree to obey them. It was a very strange feeling, being assertive like this - it was of a very different character from giving servants directions, and it made him feel newly powerful in a way that he had not expected.

He was married now. He was a husband.

He directed and she listened.

And yet he still couldn’t help feeling like an impostor. Hazelworth may have been right that a good husband must sometimes be an actor, but the role didn’t suit him. Throughout the entire conversation, he couldn’t help feeling that Ariana must know that he was acting, that she saw through his façade of strength and command and was quietly mocking him for it.

He kept waiting for the moment when she erupted into applause and demanded a repeat performance. But it never happened. She seemed to have actually accepted it at face value. Which may have been a testament to his acting skills, but was more likely due to the fact that they had only just met, and she still didn’t know him at all, really. Or, perhaps, to the fact that she had only ever had the example of her father, who truly was like that?

They lay together in bed that night, she reading a novel in the dim light of the candle, and he with his eyes closed pretending to be asleep. He didn’t know why he was pretending, exactly, unless he was trying to hide from her. Or maybe he was hiding from the fact that he had realised that this was how their relationship was going to be, how it might always be, unless he forced himself upon her – which might be within his rights, but was not something which he could countenance doing.

They would never be happy, not really. If he had known her before they were married, if they had spent any time together, he might have known this sooner, and he might have found a way out. But now they were married, and there was no taking that back. There had been moments in the time since their marriage, more of them than he cared to admit, when Benedict had been overcome with the unhappy feeling that he and Ariana were going to destroy each other, to add to the legends of Darkmire Abbey. But he couldn’t let her go, not now. They were already married.

***

For the first three or four days, Ariana accepted her new rules. But already, towards the end of that week, she had begun to show signs of strain, and by the end of the week she decided that she’d had enough. That decision was catalysed by the letter she had received from Helena, suggesting that perhaps simply obeying was not a good way to start their marriage, if Ariana ever hoped that it might become different.

Her friend was usually quite wise, and that letter gave Ariana the courage to at least try to change things – if only she knew how to do that…

***

On Saturday night, Benedict wanted to celebrate the first week of their being married by hosting a small private dinner for Ariana’s parents.

At first all seemed to be going well - when he looked in on her, Benedict found Ariana seated in front of a mirror wearing her prettiest satin gown and a striking green velvet shawl. But when Lord and Lady Hazelworth arrived at six o’clock she failed to come down; and her place at the table was still empty ten minutes after the bell rang to announce dinner.

Suspecting the worst, Benedict excused himself and returned upstairs.

She wasn’t in their parlour. But when he opened the door to their bedchamber, he found her lying on the bed looking troubled and anxious.

“Ariana?” he said slowly, taking a few cautious steps into the room. “Ariana, what’s wrong? You were supposed to have been down a quarter of an hour ago.”

“I don’t want to go down,” said Ariana with a low snarl.

Benedict didn’t like the look that she gave him - it was the level of irritated which can too easily erupt into anger if provoked, the kind of look that a rebellious small child had, just before they exploded into a tantrum.

“Ariana, your parents are here,” said Benedict, exasperated. “The soup and bread are getting cold because we were waiting on you to start eating.”

“Go ahead and eat without me,” she said sullenly. “I’m not feeling hungry, and I don’t particularly feel like seeing anyone.”

“I’m not asking you,” he said angrily, approaching the bed and taking a firm hold on her arms. Ariana flailed and beat her fists against him, but he was too strong. “You might not like it, but your parents are here, and you will come down and take dinner with them.”

“I don’t want to!” Ariana’s voice was raised, and she was actually beginning to cry. “I’ve been continuously in the company of other people all week and I’m sick of it. I need an evening to myself where I don’t have to look at another human face.”

“Some other night. Tonight, you’re going to spend time with us.”

Using his grip on her wrists, he attempted to pull her up to her feet, off the bed. At first he thought that he would succeed, but then Ariana went limp in his arms, making her body a dead weight, so that he couldn’t budge her more than a few inches – at least not without lifting her completely into his arms and carrying her.

Furious, he simply stepped up onto the bed, twisted her a little by his grip on her arms, and then rolled her onto the floor with his foot, releasing his grip on her wrists to let her fall.

“Owww!!” Ariana moaned in a strangled voice. “Why did you do that?”

“Because you’re going to learn! And if you behave like a child having a tantrum, I’m going to treat you like one,” shouted Benedict, no longer caring who heard him. “I didn’t put Cook and the staff through all of the trouble of preparing this meal, after I invited your family to dinner, so that you could sit up here sulking in your room like some wasted, no-good strumpet!”

“How dare you!” Ariana lay sprawled on the floor, her face half-hidden behind her once-perfectly-dressed hair. “Even my own father has never spoken to me like that!”

“What’s going on up here?”

Benedict glanced up in surprise to find the Earl of Hazelworth standing in the doorway. His face burning in shame, he straightened up and stepped down from the bed.