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Her situation was growing more and more desperate, and she couldn’t for the life of her understand why the Comte and his niece had not already turned up or even why neither of them had written to the duke. Her only relief was that the duke himself did not question her and instead chose to fill much of their time together with silence.
Though she was already well aware she had stayed fair too long, something deep inside her was keeping her there; she just couldn’t put her finger on what it was. She told herself it was the rejection letters and lack of anywhere else to go, the fact that the duke’s estate was miles away from anywhere without the help of a carriage, but truly, it was much more than that.
And with every day she remained, the hole she found herself in only grew deeper. Her only hope was that perhaps Clara had changed her mind about marrying the duke, and maybe, just maybe, the Comte agreed with her.
Chapter 22
Though they spent little time together, Anthony was determined to have his wife at his side when it truly mattered. He would at least show the rest of the world that they were a united front, even if it wasn’t exactly true.
In truth, he was relieved to have her at his side whenever he attended things in the village that were part of his estates. For a French noblewoman, Lady Rose was a very kind and compassionate woman, especially regarding the care of their residents and the common folk who lived and worked upon their land.
Though he had long since given up trying to have any kind of romantic relationship with his wife, he had noticed that she was an exceptional partner when it came to taking care of all his business.
He often found her pawing over paperwork late at night in the library, almost acting as if she were the duke, worrying and whittling over all that needed to be done and figuring out what she could do to make things better for the farmers, millers, and all the other common folk of the village.
He often caught himself watching her, admiring her absentmindedly until he realised that she was watching him in return, and then he would quickly look away with heated cheeks.
Falling into his role as duke felt much easier with her by his side, and although he longed to tell her so, he could not bring himself to. They had never fixed whatever problem had been between them on their wedding night; they had still to consummate their marriage, and they were still unwed in the eyes of God and the church.
Yet the thought of losing such a compassionate, intelligent young woman made him feel sick to his stomach. For now he was content to let her do her work, blossoming into perhaps the kindness and most hard-working duchess that England had ever seen.
“My love,” Anthony called across the yard shared by several of the cottages that housed their tenants, “it is past time we returned home. My sisters and Jonathan shall be arriving shortly.”
Though he called her such a thing more for the benefit of his tenants and to ensure that they were seen as nothing less than the perfect partners, he couldn’t help feeling a small thrill in his heart upon saying the words.
Lady Rose looked up from where she had been helping a young girl of no more than thirteen to finish up the stitching of an almost threadbare blanket on a table right outside the cottage where the girl lived.
To his surprise, she smiled up at him, looking quite content as if she had almost forgotten that she was still trying to avoid him even after their wedding nearly three weeks earlier. It was an expression that took him so by surprise that he gasped, taking a step back.
When she rose from the rickety stool she had been sitting on and walked towards him, Anthony was even more surprised. “My Lord, you look as if you have seen a ghost. Are you well?” she asked, a smile still upon her face though her gaze darkened slightly with concern.
“I … I am well. I am merely surprised.”
The lady’s gazed darkened further, and she looked at him with a quizzical expression as she asked, “What has surprised you so, My Lord?”
“You,” he admitted simply. “You surprise me with how much you care for these people, how much compassion you have, and how happy you appear to be merely helping them.”
Lady Rose wiped her hands upon the white apron she wore to protect her gown from the harder tasks she was willing to put her hand to while they were helping their tenants before she shrugged her shoulders.
“Being the Comte’s daughter, I am well aware of the plight of the common folk. I have seen it for myself in France. I cannot imagine that England is any different. Besides, I have much, so I am able to give what I can, even if that is merely my time and attention.”
It felt as though this was the longest conversation they had shared since their wedding night, and Anthony couldn’t help feeling a renewed sense of hope. Not only that, but he once more felt the urge to kiss his wife, to show her that he truly appreciated all she had done for him, all she had opened his eyes to for him to be an even better duke than he ever could have imagined.
Since her arrival, his tenants had thanked him ten-fold, pleased with all the hard work he and his wife had done to ensure they had much better lives than they’d had beneath his predecessor.
As if she recognised that it was their longest conversation also, Lady Rose quickly lowered her gaze, her cheeks blushing as though she was embarrassed to have looked him directly in the eye. “My Lord, perhaps we should be going. We wouldn’t wish to keep your sisters waiting.”
Though she had changed quickly, Anthony couldn’t help feeling relieved. The thought that perhaps she might finally be thawing towards him was almost overwhelming. It warmed his heart to believe it, and he remembered how things had begun to change between them over the last few days.
Lady Rose, though something still appeared to be concerning her, appeared much more content. She was even looking at him and smiling at him far more, answering his few questions easier than ever and losing herself in their work.
Determined to take the chance while he could, Anthony offered her his elbow and suggested, “Allow me to escort you home?”
Lady Rose glanced back at the carriage parked only a few metres away at the very edge of the yard. Then she glanced down at Anthony’s proffered arm, his shirt sleeve rolled up to his elbow so that he could work alongside the villagers who had been attempting to fix the thatch roof of one of the most neglected cottages.
“Are we not to take the carriage?” she asked.
“It is such a lovely morning.” Anthony sighed, glancing up at the sky. It was a periwinkle blue without a hint of cloud, and the breeze kept the heat at bay. “I thought we might walk back to the manor together. If you would be so kind as to accompany me, My Lady.”
