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Embarrassment hit her whole body in a hot wave. “Indeed, the vicar and his wife and daughters have been the only neighbors to keep company with my family. But only out of obligation, not genuine interest. Still, it was nice to have someone else to talk to than my sisters and parents.”

He wore an expression of shock and a strangely intense guilt that slumped his shoulders and darkened his gaze. He turned away from her, the veins on his neck bulging rhythmically.

He was walking on some sort of an edge, like a furious lion, not that she’d ever seen one alive. She should leave him alone. And yet, she couldn’t stop poking the predator.

His gloved hand twitched again, leather stretching over the knuckles. And if she was right, a fleeting expression of pain ran through his face.

“May I inquire, what happened to your hand?” she asked. “I noticed the glove.”

For a moment, it seemed as though he might relent, his posture relaxing ever so slightly. But his body tensed again, and when he spoke, his voice was colder than the winter winds in Siberia.

“Miss Rose, is it your intention to torment me with your questions? Or do you hold such small intellectual capacities that you find my explicit request for silence difficult to understand?”

Patience recoiled as if struck, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment and something akin to anger. She had been nothing but cordial, making an effort to ease the uncomfortable situation, but he repaid her kindness with disdain. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was quieter but carried a steeliness that surprised even her.

“I was merely trying to make our journey less…oppressive. Not an easy task, as I’m learning.”

Patience thought she saw a flicker of regret in his eyes. But as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced once more by the icy façade.

The rest of the journey passed in a heavy, uncomfortable silence that felt like a third being sitting in the carriage. Patience sat, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her mind racing with questions.

Papa had said the duke wanted to marry quickly and that he chose her because he was looking for someone amenable, and that was what she was trying to be. Pleasant. Companionable. But if he was so eager to be left alone, why did he marry at all? He could have had his pick of better-bred young ladies who knew how to be a duchess and were ready to be what he needed. Patience’s family name was slathered in scandal. She had no idea about anything but her garden, her roses, and how to keep her head high and be positive.

So that was what she would do. Stay positive. Smile.

But through her determination, a horrible thought scratched at the back of her psyche.

He was cold, and possibly cruel, by the looks of the blood on the knuckles of his hand, and God knew what hid under his glove… He didn’t care about her. He didn’t want to talk to her or be in her presence.

He was still a stranger who had a plan for her…of that, she had no doubt.

Based on his cold demeanor and cruel words, that plan may be quite terrible.

And she was utterly under his control.

6

Patience stood next to her husband—what a strange notion—in the ballroom of Rath Hall and did her best to remember the names of the guests to whom she’d been introduced. They came one after another to congratulate her and the duke.

There was the duke’s aunt, Lady Eleanor Buchanan, a warm woman with very kind eyes. Patience wondered if the whisper she’d heard during the ceremony—I like her!—had come from her. The duke’s sister, Lady Chastity, had the same coloring as her brother, but with lovely feminine features. Though her manner was as cold and aloof as his.

Her new sister…

Then there were two Lord Seatons and their wives. Two duchesses of Grandhampton, one of whom was a dowager in her older years, and the other a young, pretty lady. There was the Duke of Grandhampton, the Duchess and Duke of Kelford. He had three sisters, one of whom was around her age. The other two were very charming twins a couple of years younger.

All of them were striking and beautiful and extremely polite.

And all of them made her head spin as she tried and failed to imagine how she could ever fit into this regal room. It had dark blue paneled walls, detailed moldings on the ceiling, and multiple crystal chandeliers. Heavy velvet drapes of a deep burgundy flanked the long, arched windows, pulled back just enough to let in the sunshine. The intricately carved dark mahogany furniture with red upholstery was arresting. And rich scents of perfume, champagne, and decadent food filled the air.

It was strange to have several footmen and a stately butler walk around the room, serving everyone drinks, when for most of her life her family couldn’t afford a single servant. She felt like she needed to join them, to take one of the trays out of their hands and offer the guests refreshments. They’d had a housekeeper and cook before John went to Oxford, but they had to let her go after they spent all their money on John’s tuition.

Patience kept nodding politely and smiling with all the warmth in her heart to these kind people who seemed to welcome her to her new life and didn’t remark on her near fall at the wedding. They didn’t show any sign they noticed the poor state of her dress or that she had no idea what to talk to them about. She kept asking them questions about themselves just so that no one would suspect how utterly out of place she felt.

And since leaving the carriage, she hadn’t exchanged a single word with her husband.

“Finally I get a chance at an introduction,” said a tall, handsome man with golden hair and violet eyes. He had a perfectly fitted coat, a light yellow waistcoat, and wore a golden signet ring with a stag. He gave a bow, and his eyes ran over her with male appreciation. “Dorian, will you introduce your best man and best friend to your wife?”

Dorian…her husband’s name was Dorian. The vicar had said it during the ceremony, but her head had been swimming, and it was only now that she registered it. What a beautiful, dark name…just like him.