The Duke Takes a Wife

by Dahlia Rose

  “That’s not what I’m expecting at all,” Jasper said in exasperation.

  She turned in the car seat and looked at him as he drove. “Jasper, I understand in a way you are fighting for your life. When you asked me to marry you, you said you’d give up the damn title to be with me. You don’t have to do that at all. I’m asking that you put as much time and energy into our marriage as you would trying to one up your mother. You need to think of what is more important to you, a life, a good marriage, a home, things we both never really had, or revenge.”

  He didn’t answer and the rest of the car ride home was in silence. At the manor house they walked in, and he locked up. She watched television and found some of her favorite channels through his satellite dish, and he went to work in his workshop. She didn’t press. They needed a little bit of space and he definitely needed to think. It got dark and Zeva went upstairs to take a hot shower. She would have to get accustomed to the chilly nights in Northumberland, because while it got cold in Washington, in the U.K it was a damp chill that seemed to get into your bones. By the time she came out, Jasper was in the room and she could see he’d taken a shower in his own bathroom. He had a fire lit in the stone fireplace of the bedroom and was grabbing a pillow and extra blankets from the large carved armoire he had made himself.

  “What are you doing?” Zeva asked curiously.

  “Going to sleep in one of the other bedrooms, you’re mad at me,” Jasper said and his voce seemed confused at her question.

  “Holy shit, they really fucked you up, didn’t they?” Zeva said incredulously. She got into bed and pulled the thick blankets back. “Get into bed, Jasper.”

  He put the items back and made his way to the bed, where he lay next to her. Zeva snuggled close and pressed a kiss on his lips.

  “Just because we argue doesn’t mean we need to sleep apart,” Zeva explained gently. “I never want to sleep away from my husband, so let’s not ever think we can’t still hold each other even if we are upset.” She laced her fingers with his. “This is how we stay connected, when we are happy or times get difficult, we never sleep apart. Deal?”

  Jasper swallowed thickly and nodded. His voice was husky when he spoke. “Deal.”

  “Now turn off the lights and let’s go to sleep,” she said.

  With only the embers from the fire lighting the room she kissed him again. Zeva made sure she was as close as she could be to him as they settled down for the night. There was no way she would ever let him feel like he was alone, but she surmised she had to reconstruct a lot of the damage that was inflicted on him through his life because of how he saw his parents’ marriage. While she was learning how not to think of herself as alone, Zeva would have to teach him how love truly should be.

  Chapter Seven

  “This man is going to drive me insane,” Zeva muttered.

  Jasper was away with Haile. They’d gotten a line on some trees trunks or wood that had washed up from the ocean or something of the like. His excitement about firing it and making unique pieces from the wood and how Vikings cast wood into seawater before using it was contagious. Personally, she had no clue what he was talking about, but assured him she would be fine for a day alone working on his books and he went off happily. Zeva was left with a stack of papers and a stack on her lap and then a whole other stack on a second desk.

  In the weeks that followed, Jasper had asked her to help him tackle some paperwork he was behind on. He didn’t once mention he was notoriously bad with keeping track of his business invoices, purchase orders, delivery schedule—practically all of it was in a disarray. After two days of watching him just make small piles, she took over and made it her mission to sort out the mess. Then one night he offered her a job as his bookkeeper and a hefty paycheck. She accepted immediately, and it led into another plan she was forming in her head.

  After speaking with Tori and doing some research, she decided to start a charity to help young mothers get an education and proper jobs. They would be taught everything about how to dress and conduct themselves in an interview and given business clothes. She wanted to offer an on-site day care for these young women to leave their children while they went out to find jobs so they could have a safe place for their kids when they were at work. Jasper was thrilled with her idea, and as Duchess she planned to have charity events to fund the whole thing. It felt rewarding to know she was finding her place in Northumberland with Jasper, and that using her new title she could help the residents she lived alongside.

  She heard wheels on the gravel and looked out the window facing the driveway to see a car driving sloppily up the lane to the house. The driver parked in a swerve that kicked up more of the rocks, and Uncle Brewster almost fell out the car. Oh shit, she thought and looked at the time on her cell phone. It was only three in the afternoon and Jasper had said wouldn’t be back until six or seven.

  “Jasper!” His uncle yelled in a drunken voice, and his body was not stable as he teetered while he stood.

  Zeva pressed Jasper’s cell number in her phone while she walked to the front of the manor. The textured stained glass of the front door distorted his figure outside as he yelled his nephews name again. Jasper answered the phone and his voice sounded so happy she hated to ruin his mood.

  “Hello, luv, miss me already?” Jasper asked.

  “I always miss you,” Zeva answered and sighed. “But your uncle is drunk outside and he’s yelling your name. He drove to the manor drunk. Should I try to get him inside till you get home?”

  “Blood fucking hell, he drove drunk!” Jasper’s voce rose angrily. “I told him about this. Jesus Christ, he could’ve killed someone on the sodding road.”

  “Yes, I know, this is why I think I should get him inside and take those keys until you get home,” Zeva said gently.

  “He’s a pretty big guy, Zeva, can you manage? I think it’s about time I call the constables on him, He needs to hit rock bottom and start to work his way back up,” Jasper replied.

  “I’m an Army girl, I carried a fifty pound pack when I deployed and took down guys twice my size in defense class, I’ll manage,” she said amused. “Even if I have to drag him across the gravel.”

  “I made a stop on the way home and I think I’ve found a solution to Uncle Brewster’s situation,” Jasper told her. “But first I need to get him sober and on the right track. We’ll be home soon luv, I promise.”

  “I’ll get him safe,” Zeva promised.

  “I appreciate that, thank you.” He sighed. “Thank you so much, Zeva. I don’t know what I would do without you. See you soon.”

  She hung up and shoved the cell in her back pocket before stepping outside. Even with the thick sweater she wore, the air was chilly, yet she walked briskly toward where the older man was trying to get back in his car.

  “Well hello Uncle Brewster, we didn’t expect you.” Zeva made her voice bright. “Come on inside for a cup of coffee, I made some dinner.”

  He pointed a drunken finger at her. “You caused all this, you know. My sister is livid with me and making my life a living hell, all because Jasper married you.”

  “I’m sorry, Brewster, I really am, but it’s not my fault she is the way she is,” she said gently. “Come on inside and let’s talk about it. I bet you haven’t eaten all day. I made some thick soup and we have bread. I know you loved my desserts, there’s some of that, too.”

  “I’ll come in for a quick minute and visit, but I’m leaving right after,” Uncle Brewster announced. “My sister said you and Jasper are the enemy, I have to side with her. I’ve always protected her.”

  Zeva nodded solemnly. “As well you should, you are a good brother. I wish I had one just like you.”

  He smiled up at her. “Really?”

  “You bet,” she answered and held out her hand. “Come on, let’s get you warm and fed.”

  “You are such a good woman, I am sorry I have to hate you.” Uncle Brewster took her hand and allowed her to lead him inside.

&n
bsp; “Yeah, me too,” she said softly.

  Zeva felt sorry for the old man. He was caught between loyalty to his sister and a love for daughters who didn’t regard him as a father to loving Jasper and wanting to be a part of his life. Because of Jasper’s mother the man could only find solace in alcohol. She got a hot cup of coffee into him and managed to have him eat some soup before he started to fall asleep. Zeva settled him to the family room on one of the long wide sofas and he was out almost instantly.

  She covered him with the thick afghan and stoked the fire, throwing a few more pieces of wood on it before she closed the door and left him to sleep it off. She went back outside, took the keys from the ignition, and closed the car before heading back to the warmth of the manor. She went back to work hoping Jasper would be home before his uncle woke up and tried to drive again. The smell of alcohol coming off him was so strong she doubted he would be sober enough to drive until the next day. She was just about to work when she heard another car and looked out of the window to see a sleek black Mercedes.

  “Who the fuck is this now?” she muttered and dropped the file she had just picked up on the table with a hard slap.

  By the time she got out the door, Cornelia McTavish was stepping from the car. She wore a tapered elegant pantsuit with a long coat with fur at the cuffs and neck. She gave Zeva a cold look, and Zeva clasped her hand behind her back as she stood at the door and waited. She would not be making the first move, if her mother-in-law wanted to interact Cornelia could walk her happy ass over to where Zeva stood. When she saw Zeva wouldn’t move she did just that.

  “Hello, Zeva is it?” Her voice was elegant and cold.

  “You called me Darkie last time so I thought that was the name you gave me,” Zeva replied without batting an eye.

  “I’m here to collect my brother,” Cornelia said.

  “He’s asleep and Jasper said he was to stay here,” she replied.

  Cornelia smiled wide revealing perfect teeth. “Ah, such an obedient wife.”

  Zeva’s smile was stiff. “Not really. I just don’t like you and how you treat your brother and your son.”

  “You think you know, little girl, but you are in a game that you can’t win. When I was young you would’ve been my maid. This is what happens when people forget their place and lot in life.” Cornelia sighed dramatically.

  “Exactly when were you young? Fuck, I forgot when you sell your soul to the devil it gains you immortality,” Zeva replied. “You should really talk to him about those wrinkles around your eyes. Your face could be a road map with all those lines.”

  “You little bitch,” Cornelia gasped angrily and reached into her purse. Zeva instantly thought “gun” and got in a defensive stance carefully not to draw attention. Instead, Cornelia pulled out a checkbook. “I will give you a million dollars to leave here and divorce Jasper.”

  Zeva laughed. “As far as I hear you are in no position to write checks that certainly can’t be cashed.”

  “I have the money,” her mother-in-law snapped.

  “Still, I’ll say no.” Zeva smiled and waved. “You’re not welcome here. Go away now, toodles.”

  “I could have my driver come in and take him.” Cornelia had wicked delight written all over her face. “He could mess up that pretty dark skin of yours.”

  Zeva’s heart jumped but she kept cool. “He could try and I’d give him a run for his money and kick your ass, too.”

  Cornelia laughed. “You Americans are crass as ever. Don’t worry, I’ll get you gone when you least expect it, one way or another. I had hoped you would choose the easier way before you don’t have any breath left to be so rude.”

  Zeva didn’t hide her defense stance this time. “That sounds like a threat on my life. Cornelia, if or when you try, or in your case pay someone because you are too much of a coward to handle shit yourself, you better hope they drop me and I stay down. If not sweetie... darling, I’m coming for you.”

  “Tell my brother I was worried and came to check on him.” Cornelia stuffed her checkbook into her purse.

  “I will tell him no such thing,” Zeva replied. “Get the hell off our property.”

  “This was my mother’s land. I have more right here than you do,” Cornelia screeched, her hands fisted at her sides.

  “And yet she left it to Jasper instead of you. I guess she saw your true colors even though you were her daughter,” Zeva shot back at her. “Go home, Cornelia, and try to figure out another way to con money from some unsuspecting man.”

  Zeva stepped inside, closed the door, and went through to the kitchen. From the large windows she could see Cornelia follow her movements with angry strides. She stood at the wide bay window of the kitchen staring at her mother-in-law in a standoff of wills. Cornelia bent down and picked up a paving stone. Her driver saw the action as well and tried to scramble out of the car to stop her. It was too late, and Cornelia threw it at the window where Zeva stood on the opposite side.

  “What the fuck!” Zeva moved quickly as the rock hit the window and shattered the glass, spraying the kitchen with glass shards. “Oh, you fucking crazy bitch!”

  She retraced her steps to head out the door, literally ready to beat the snot out of Jasper’s mother, but by the time she got to the front door she could only watch as the tires sprayed up gravel with the haste of the car’s retreat down the driveway. Zeva was fuming and promised that she would not be forgetting the incident. By the time Jasper had come home she’d managed to clean up the glass. She’d found sheets of plastic in his workshop and covered the window so the cold night air wouldn’t get in. Both he and Haile rushed into the kitchen, looking frantic.

  “Bloody hell, Zeva what happened?” Jasper asked.

  “Oh that?” She used her cup of coffee with a healthy dose of Irish whiskey added to point at the window. “Your mother came by for a visit to pick up her brother, who is still here by the way. Then she threatened me and tried to stone me to death through the window.”

  Jasper moved quickly and cupped her face. “Are you okay? Haile, call the constables.”

  “Jasper no, it makes no sense trying to call the police when she’s long gone and will probably say I instigated it,” Zeva’s sigh was tired. “I kinda did with the insulting, but didn’t, yet it’s her word versus mine and additional chaos. I wasn’t letting her take Uncle Brewster out of here, though. Even though she threatened to have her driver mess up my dark skin.”

  “This is going to fucking end,” Jasper snarled. “I’m done with dealing with her.”

  “Settle down—here, drink this.” Zeva handed him her mug.

  He took a sip and coughed. “How much whiskey is in there?”

  “Enough to keep me from getting her address and going to kick her ass,” Zeva replied.

  “This is fucking awesome. I need a strong wife.” Haile, watching the interaction between them, laughed. “Come on, Jasper, let’s get some plywood for the window until we can get it fixed tomorrow.”

  Jasper kissed her. “I’ll be back soon, my love.”

  “I’ll be upstairs lying down for a bit. I have a small headache after my very eventful day,” Zeva replied.

  She could feel his gaze on her while she left the kitchen, and it was only when she was curled up under the thick blankets did she realize he had called her “my love” not just “luv.” Zeva smiled, and the ache in her heart was so sweet she pressed her hand over her chest. This wasn’t just an affectionate pet name, it was the actual thing. In essence, Jasper just told her he loved her. She must have dozed off because she stirred when he gently shook her shoulders.

  “Hey.” She smiled up at him. “I may have napped a bit.”

  “I’m glad. Is your headache better?” Jasper brushed her hair away from her face.

  “It’s just a dull throb, is Haile gone?” she asked.

  “Yes, just a bit ago. I let you sleep for a while and got Uncle Brewster in a guest room for the night,” Jasper explained. “Are you up for a little t
rip to the workshop? I have something I want you to see.”

  “Sure, just let me brush my teeth and use the facilities. Irish whiskey and coffee leaves you cotton-mouthed and needing to pee,” Zeva said. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  He laughed and kissed her forehead. “Okay, see you in five minutes.”

  Zeva freshened up in a hurry, curious to why he wanted her to go out to the workshop. If he starts talking about the driftwood again I might fall back asleep in the sawdust, she thought as she went to find him. He was waiting by the front door and smiled when she walked up to him.

  Jasper pulled her into a hug. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, why?” She pulled back and looked at him.

  “I thought my mother had pissed you off so much or scared you that you were mad at me and considering leaving,” Jasper admitted.

  “I’m no punk, she didn’t scare me a bit,” Zeva assured him. “What pissed me off more is that I didn’t get through the bookkeeping I had planned for the day. Speaking of which, you are an artist, I love your creativity, but you suck at running a business. When I finally make some order in that office, let me handle the paperwork from now on. I mean it. You hired me, you just give me stuff and I’ll take care of it. No ruining the system I’m creating.”

  “Yes, dear,” he said solemnly and kissed her nose. “Come on, I have to show you something.”

  Her curiosity was piqued as they walked through the cool, dark night of Northumberland. She was always amazed at the fog that settled close to the ground from the early evening, giving the area an almost spooky feel. She was still trying to get accustomed to the weather, because while the days could be warm enough to work outside without a coat at night the cold and fog settled in. In his workshop, what Jasper showed her took her breath away. On his work table a large, wooden chest stood. It was stained a light color, and ornately carved leaves went around the lid of the box.

  The body had his signature Celtic knot work, but she had never seen this pattern in the multitude of drawings he kept in the office. This was unique, and at the top her name was etched in elegant letters, Duchess Zeva McTavish. Beneath it was her rank in the army and the years she spent within the military fold. She traced her fingers over the box, the smooth wood cool beneath her fingers. Its beauty floored her.