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Though it pained her to be harsh towards him, Penelope was well aware that she had little choice. She had to be absolutely certain that nothing would go amiss, and she was unsure about whether she would be able to trust herself if she did not entirely frighten him off.
“My Lord, you must go,” she announced, sounding more much confident than she felt. “You promised you would not touch me and have broken that promise.”
For a moment, to Penelope’s sheer horror, the duke looked broken. His gaze glistened almost as if he were growing tearful, and he looked at her with such a hurt expression that she instantly wanted to take the words back.
Instead, she said in a far less confident voice, almost whispering, “Please, My Lord, just go.”
Chapter 17
Anthony could not believe the sudden change in his new wife. Things had been going so well. They had been talking and getting along, even laughing. And yet, in what felt like a heartbeat, it had all changed. The way that she glared at him now, clutching the bedsheets to her once more, he couldn’t help feeling as though he repulsed her. The tone of her voice had been sharp and clear, leaving him in no doubt as to what she wanted.
“I … I … My Lady, please, forgive me,” Anthony insisted, his chest tightening at the thought of leaving. Having been so close, having spoken and laughed and kissed her, having felt her kiss him back, he couldn’t bring himself to just up and leave, and yet, in a moment, her gaze had gone from lovelorn and passionate to absolutely disgusted.
Her demeanour had become closed off, and she seemed to glare at him unblinkingly, almost as if she didn’t trust him not to try and take advantage of her again in the blink of an eye.
“I do not know what came over me.”
Seeing that she was not exactly listening to his apology, Anthony slipped off the bed, though he did not move away from it entirely.
“I … I thought I could do this, but I cannot,” Lady Rose announced, shaking her head and clutching the bedsheets just a little tighter. She looked dishevelled now, her hair sticking out wildly about her head, and Anthony wondered whether perhaps he had been a little too passionate. Though, thinking back, he couldn’t say that he had been rough with her.
She is a virgin,he reminded himself, having no reason to think otherwise. Kicking himself mentally, he knew he ought to have been much more careful about how he approached kissing his new wife for the first time; he ought to have been much more gentle and cautious. Now he may well have ruined everything.
Turmoil built deep in his gut, and he wasn’t sure whether he ought to stay and try to work things out, assure her that he had meant no harm, or simply turn and leave the room. Hopefully, a little time and space would resolve things, though the way she looked at him made him wonder if it would take much more.
“My Lord, I cannot do this,” she repeated, shaking her head all over again, and her words caused his heart to ache painfully. Never in a million years could he have imagined that such a rejection would hurt so badly.I never even wished for this marriage,he reminded himself.
Perhaps her reaction was a good thing. If she was unwilling to be with him, unwilling to live as man and wife, then he should be willing to accept that. Perhaps he would even talk to her about it, talk to her about arranging something between the two of them that meant they both got what they needed, once she had calmed down, of course. Yet a small voice in the back of his mind said,I want this marriage to work.
“I … I shall go,” Anthony told her gently, taking a step away from the bed.
“My Lord,” Lady Rose spoke up then, and Anthony paused in his turning towards the door, growing slightly hopeful. Yet, when he turned to look at her, he realised he ought not to have got his hopes up. The look in her eyes pained the duke, and his heart hammered in his chest as he waited for her to speak.
“Do not ever presume to touch me again.”
Her words made him feel sick. Never in his life had he ever had any complaints from a woman about touching her, never had he been rejected in such a manner. Every woman he had kissed or even lain with had been with him entirely willingly, and yet here he was on his wedding night, with his wife, and he couldn’t have felt more rejected if he tried.
“I shall give you some space,” Anthony assured her. Turning, he crossed the room to the door much more quickly than he had from door to bed and didn’t stop until he had his hand on the doorknob. Then he turned back and looked his new wife in the eye as he assured her, “I will never touch you again without your expressed permission.”
Was that a flash of regret he saw alighting in her gaze? He couldn’t be sure, and he no longer wished to allow his hopes to soar. He gritted his teeth, remaining silent in the hopes that she might say something, that perhaps she might change her mind and suggest he remain so that they could talk some more, and then perhaps they might touch each other again.
Yet Lady Rose merely met his gaze in silence, watching him as though she was fearful and repulsed by the thought that he might change before her eyes and suddenly become the kind of man who would cross the room, climb onto the bed, and take her whether she liked it or not.
In the eyes of the law and the eyes of the church, Anthony knew very well that no man would say anything if he did. After all, she was his wife in the eyes of God, and yet there wasn’t a single bone in his body that would allow him to do so. The look in her eyes at that moment was bad enough without him making things even worse.
“I wish you a good evening, sweetheart,” he said, feeling as though his heart might break in two as a hard lump formed in his throat. “I wish you sleep well.”
Lady Rose opened her mouth as if to wish him well in return, then seemed to think better of it, and her mouth quickly pursed. She continued to stare at him, looking as though she wouldn’t blink until he finally left the room. Unwilling to make her feel any more uncomfortable than she already was, Anthony sighed deeply, bowed his head respectfully, and pulled open the door.
He could have sworn that he heard her whisper something, perhaps even wishing him a good night, but he did not stop and turn back to find out whether she had. Instead, he slipped from the room and clicked the door firmly closed behind him.
Taking a moment to close his eyes and catch his breath, he realised that he had been holding it for far longer than he realised. His lungs and chest were aching.
In fact, his entire body ached with tension, and he knew that the best thing to do was merely to go to bed. Perhaps things would look better in the morning. Maybe it was merely the stress of the day that had got to her. He couldn’t exactly say that he wasn’t exhausted after all they had been through over the last couple of days.
Standing outside the bedroom of his now wife, Anthony felt more lost than ever. In a matter of weeks, he had become not only a duke and a high society nobleman but also a husband, all of which he had never wanted. Yet now that he was there, feeling rejected, he couldn’t help feeling as though all he wanted was to take on his roles just as he had taken on everything else, in the best way he possibly could.
I will fix this,he vowed to himself;somehow, no matter how long it takes, I will fix this.
