The Duke and the Wallflower

by Clever, Jessie

  But earlier in the summer, he’d been too consumed by Eliza’s attentions to realize anything beyond them.

  The pain burned hotter in his chest, and he absently rubbed a hand against it to quell it. He knew he was in the wrong here, and worse, he feared the power Bethany had over him. It wasn’t that she was physically irresistible nor did he find her particularly alluring. It was their shared history that had her pulling him in. It was as if by conquering her physically, he could right the wrongs of the past, which had been done to him.

  He knew he’d been wrong as soon as his lips had touched hers. By the time he’d thought to push her away, a sour taste had already developed in his mouth, and he was left wanting for his wife.

  He had absolutely ruined everything, and the first thing he needed to do was apologize.

  Raising a single hand, he gave a sharp knock at the door.

  “Eliza, I must speak with you,” he said before she could raise an objection.

  “Come in.” The two words were spoken crisply and without hesitation, so much like his practical Eliza it nearly caused him physical pain.

  He had the beef he’d squandered from dinner at the ready when he entered and tossed it to Henry before the dog could elicit more than a warning growl. Placated, he laid his head back down as he lounged on the window seat, the night ocean breeze ruffling his fur from the open window.

  It would serve him right to find Eliza abed, tucked under the covers with her virginal nightdress buttoned up to her throat, much as she’d been on their wedding night. His body clenched at the sight of her, desire racing through him, and he had to clear his throat several times in order to calm his nerves.

  “Hello.” He hadn’t meant to say that, but upon seeing her, more rational thought simply fled.

  He was starved for her. It really hadn’t occurred to him until he laid his eyes upon her, until her gaze was focused on him, but even as he yearned toward her, he stopped.

  This was not the Eliza he had come to know over the past few months. This was the Eliza he had found on the ballroom floor. Her gaze was cold and alert, her jaw tight as if wary of an ambush. He swallowed again, knowing he’d done this as well. He’d made her climb back into the shell society had made for her.

  “Hello,” she said in reply, her voice soft and neutral.

  There was a book open on her lap, one hand relaxed against the page as if holding her place. He wanted to sweep the book away and pull her into his arms. He wanted to spend the night pressed up against her, entangled in her heat as he’d spent so many nights that summer.

  “I’ve come to apologize.”

  She did not react. “Is there cause for an apology?”

  He recalled what she had said when she’d left them standing in the drawing room that day. That it was none of her concern. He wondered if she truly believed that.

  He took a step closer. “There is. I behaved poorly, and I hurt you.”

  “You did no such thing.” She tilted her head as if confused.

  While he had anticipated the apology would be difficult to deliver as remorse and regret swamped him, he had not expected how it would irritate him when she so blatantly disregarded her own feelings.

  He opened his mouth ready to press on but shut it. Her gaze was so sterile, her jaw tight, as if she were doing all she could to hold back her feelings.

  He hated it.

  Without further hesitation, he strode forward and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the damn book away so he could take her hands into his. She gave a small gasp of surprise, and now her eyes were wide, her gaze anticipating.

  “Don’t pretend what I did meant nothing to you.” This was not a planned part of the apology, but he couldn’t stand for her to be so aloof. “I kissed another woman, Eliza. I betrayed your trust, and I broke the vow I gave you on our wedding day. You have a right to be upset.”

  He wanted her to rage. He wanted her to yell. He wanted to know she felt something for him in return.

  Instead, she only frowned. “That isn’t part of our bargain, Your Grace.”

  He stilled. The words were spoken with cool abandon, and her use of his formal address was quite effective in wedging a distance between them. But he wouldn’t let it. He gripped her hands, turning them so his thumb stroked her palms. He saw the moment it affected her as her gaze dulled, her lower lip loosening.

  “I don’t care what our bargain was. This is no longer about our bargain, Eliza. This is about me hurting you when I swore I would never do it again.”

  “You don’t need to apologize, Dax.” The words were spoken so softly, so earnestly, they rendered him speechless. He stared at her, his argument dying on his lips as the real Eliza surfaced, her eyes sharpening as she drank him in. “What you did has nothing to do with me, and it has everything to do with your past, with Lady Isley. I know that.”

  “It doesn’t make it right. I should—”

  “Dax, I cannot expect anything from your future if you haven’t settled with the events of your past. It doesn’t matter if I’m beautiful or a wallflower, if I’m outgoing or sullen. None of it matters if you aren’t willing to take the risk of loving someone else again. And if that is how it stands, I will not let what you do determine how I feel.”

  The words struck him directly in the center of his chest, and he was left without air, his lips parted and yet unable to draw breath. He studied her, her words echoing in his ears.

  “Do you really believe that?” He didn’t know why it was important to him, but her words were having a clearing effect on him he hadn’t anticipated.

  He thought he would simply come in and apologize to her for betraying her trust. He had not expected to have his understanding sent into such upheaval.

  She tugged her hands from his, and while he didn’t want to let her go, he realized she was changing their positions. She cradled one of his hands in both of hers.

  “I believe it because it’s true. Why did you kiss her, Dax?”

  He sat back, her question leaving him unstable.

  “Why are you asking that?”

  “Because I know you didn’t kiss her out of desire, did you?”

  He pushed to his feet, wrenching his hand away. How did she understand so much without him explaining how he felt?

  “I did not kiss her because I wished it.” He paced away from her, unable to speak the words while looking at her.

  “Then why did you do so?”

  He opened his mouth ready to say it was Bethany who had kissed him, but he realized what a weak excuse that was. He could have stopped her. He knew what she was about even as she leaned in. There was no reason he couldn’t have prevented it all from happening.

  So why hadn’t he?

  He turned so he could look at her.

  “I don’t know why.” The words were the truth even if they felt like he was making excuses.

  “Would it help if you told me what happened?”

  He considered her. The candle she had been using to read by dappled her with soft light, and he wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with her, pull her against him, and let the warmth of her comfort him. He collapsed in the chair he had occupied their first night at Ashbourne Manor when he’d sat across from Eliza and begged her to give him a second chance. So much had changed since then, and yet, they seemed to be back at the very beginning. Each stepping carefully as they figured out how to navigate around each other.

  “I don’t know what happened,” he muttered, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Stephens came to fetch me when she arrived, and when I got to the drawing room, she was…desperate.” He tried to recall the first image of her he had glimpsed upon walking into the room, but now the entire afternoon was muddled.

  “Why was she desperate?”

  He looked up when he heard the sound of the bed clothes being pushed back. Eliza slipped from the bed, and even the sight of her bare feet had his heart rate picking up.

  “She said her father had arranged her marriage
to Isley without her knowledge, and she had always hoped that as long as I remained free, there might have been a chance for us to be together one day.” He said the words in a trance as Eliza made her way over to him and took the chair opposite his, tucking her feet underneath the chair as she sat.

  She looked so prim sitting there in her nightdress, her braid over one shoulder. She’d removed her spectacles for reading, and her face took on a softness that called to him.

  He licked his lips and had to try twice to get his next words out. “I don’t know now why I believed her. She sounded so earnest.” He shrugged. “I still don’t know if what she said is true.”

  “But at the moment you believed her?”

  “I had to.” The words were whispered, and he may as well have taken a knife and sliced through what was left of his marriage.

  Eliza didn’t move. She gave no indication that his words had hurt her the way they did him to merely speak them. But he knew. He could feel it in the way she kept herself so still, in the way her hands fisted into the lengths of her nightdress, in the way her mouth remained so tight.

  With each word he spoke, he tore her down a little more, and yet he couldn’t stop.

  “I had to believe that what she said was true because then I wouldn’t have suffered such humiliation. I wouldn’t have been so betrayed. And I could—”

  He would be free to love Eliza.

  The realization washed over him with such ferocity it was as if he were caught in an ocean wave in December. His eyes flew to Eliza’s face, but her expression remained cold. He couldn’t blame her. This was the second heartfelt apology in the course of their mere months-long marriage, and he had no right to expect it would do anything other than convince her not to trust him.

  He stood suddenly, propelled by a need to make it right.

  “Eliza, I love you. I know you don’t believe that, and I know I’ve given you no reason to. But I do, and I’m going to make this right.”

  The only sign that she’d heard was a slight softening of her mouth.

  “Dax, you mustn’t—”

  He closed the distance between them, pulled her to her feet, and kissed her soundly. She gave no resistance. In seconds, her arms were around his shoulders, her fingers digging into his back as she held on.

  He released her just as quickly and took a step back. She rocked slightly on her feet, but he daren’t touch her.

  “I love you, Eliza,” he said when he thought she’d regained her senses. “I love you, and I’m going to do everything in my power to show you.”

  He didn’t wait for a response, but he didn’t miss the way her hand trembled as she touched her lips as he left the room.

  Chapter 16

  She took to replaying that kiss in her mind over the next few days.

  They were sitting on the terrace nearly a week later, the ocean breeze toying with their luncheon none of them had been eager to consume as all three Darby sisters were preoccupied. Louisa and Johanna were both mired in a deep discussion of whether the invitations for the Ashbourne ball should have yellow ribbons or blue ribbons, and Eliza could think of nothing but the kiss her husband had unexpectedly delivered her the previous week.

  She wanted to forget about it. She wanted to let her anger at him for hurting her continue to boil, but the truth of the matter was it did not. Instead, she hung suspended in some sort of odd in-between state where she wasn’t quite sure where she stood. Was she Eliza Darby or was she the Duchess of Ashbourne? She wasn’t sure anymore.

  The only thing she could be sure of was the babe growing in her womb. It was beginning to make itself known with its occasional morning upset and bouts of nausea throughout the day. She tired easily now and found herself sitting absently about the manor.

  To say nothing of her gowns.

  Mrs. Fletcher had been right. She did need the extra room in her gowns as her body had already begun to change. Her reflection in the mirror showed a woman not only full of the color of the sun but also one with dewy cheeks and perky lips. Most surprising of all was how she filled out all those bits of her gowns that had never once before even touched her body.

  She felt resplendent, which in itself was such an oddity it only added to her unease.

  That night Dax had come to her room realization had crashed into her with the suddenness of a sea storm, and she knew she had been right. It left her aching and uncertain, but Dax had seemed so determined to make things right.

  But what was right?

  He’d started their marriage off by calling it a farce, and now she’d found him with another woman in his arms. She wanted to hide away in her rooms with Henry and her watercolors at the thought of it, but she just wasn’t so quick to succumb to the wary nonsense her wallflower days had taught her.

  She no longer wanted to hide. She no longer wanted to feel the sorrow of always being found lacking.

  She wanted to walk along the beach, feel the sun on her face and the wind in her hair. She wanted to watch Henry bite at the waves and chase sea gulls. She wanted to trek along the fields of Ashbourne Manor from livestock paddock to livestock paddock, watching the herds grow and thrive.

  She wanted everything.

  And if Dax didn’t want her…

  It hurt. It hurt deeply. Her life would be a little less full without him, but as she settled her hands on her stomach, she knew she would be all right.

  “You will have to tell him, you realize.”

  Eliza started from her thoughts and met Johanna’s gaze.

  “Tell him what?”

  Louisa set down the sample of ribbons she’d been sorting through. “Why, that you’re carrying his child, of course. You can’t expect him not to notice.”

  Johanna snorted. “I’m not so sure when it comes to men. He may, in fact, be left utterly in the dark until the young one’s arrival.”

  Eliza looked between them sharply. “How did you know?”

  “Because you’re always doing that.” Johanna laughed and pointed to where Eliza cradled her stomach. “Did you expect us not to notice?”

  “I’m quite frightened Ashbourne will find out the truth from someone else, you know,” Louisa supplied. “You really must tell him. Tonight after supper perhaps.”

  Dax and Sebastian had taken to joining them for the evening meal. It wasn’t a formal affair by town standards, and Eliza found she enjoyed the relaxed atmosphere.

  Dax was polite if distant, but it was not as if he were keeping himself from her. It was more that he was distracted by something. She watched them as they took wine and brandy in the drawing room at supper, and while he joined in the sharing of childhood stories and outlandish tales, he was somehow removed from it all. As if whatever it was that occupied his mind was so important as to consume him entirely.

  A very secret part of her wished it had something to do with her.

  He hadn’t returned to her rooms since that night. Every night after supper, he escorted her to her door and bid her goodnight. Again, he wasn’t rude. He was simply distracted, and she couldn’t help but wonder if it had to do with his vow to show her he loved her.

  “No, I don’t think right now would be ideal.”

  “Perhaps on the child’s first birthday then,” Johanna suggested.

  “You’re rather acerbic today,” Louisa said.

  Johanna shook her head. “Is that so? If that’s the case, I should like to say another thing. It’s rather curious how you find yourself with Waverly.”

  Louisa’s face went an instant shade of tomato. “I don’t know of what you’re speaking.”

  Eliza sat up. She’d wondered the same thing after watching her sister carry on with Sebastian. Her sister was always determined to be the bright spot in the room, but with Sebastian, it was almost as if she’d accepted it as a personal challenge, an affront to the duke’s naturally cool demeanor.

  “Hardly. I can’t tell if you wish to challenge the man to a duel or propose marriage. Which is it?”

 
; Louisa picked up her ribbons again. “I haven’t decided actually.”

  This made Johanna laugh.

  “Would you truly consider marriage to the Duke of Waverly?” Eliza had to ask the question because she’d never considered Louisa marrying. She supposed if Viv had her way, they would all be married off. But Louisa was dear somehow. In Eliza’s mind, she’d always be her little sister in need of just a touch more help than the rest.

  Louisa shrugged. “As I said, I haven’t decided.”

  Johanna took a sip of lemonade before saying, “Please do inform us when you have it sorted. I would love to be there for either occasion.”

  Louisa’s smile was blinding. “I shall.”

  Mrs. Donnelly appeared then, rolling a cart of sweets and a fresh pitcher of lemonade onto the terrace with her. She paused in replacing the lemonade.

  “Oh, Your Grace, I do beg your pardon.” The housekeeper’s eyes raced across the tableau of invitation carcasses strewn across the table. “His Grace has already seen to the invitations for the ball. Had he not informed you?”

  Eliza stilled. “No, he did not.”

  Mrs. Donnelly folded her hands along her stomach. “I’m so very sorry, Your Grace. It must be my mistake. George took them to be posted last week. Should you like to see one of them?”

  “Yes, I would like that very much.”

  Mrs. Donnelly slipped back into the house.

  “Whatever does that mean?” Louisa said, setting down the ribbons with enough of a thump to articulate her disappointment.

  “I don’t know,” Eliza whispered.

  “Does this have something to do with that Isley woman?” Johanna asked.

  Eliza shook her head. “I don’t know. Andrew hasn’t returned my letter yet.”

  But even as she said the words, her mind spun. Was this what had Dax distracted? Did it have something to do with the ball? He said he would make things right, but how did the ball’s invitations do that?