Page 75 of The Duchess’ Little Miracle

“I am entirely prepared to do so,” Seraphina replied, holding his gaze with a smile he did not return. “Whatever Jameson requires of me to ensure the petition is granted smoothly, I shall provide.”

A muscle in William’s jaw twitched violently. He stared at her, his brows drawing together into a scowl.

Smoothly.

“Is there something else, William?” she asked gently, taking a step toward him. “You look as though you are swallowing glass.”

“You are remarkably eager... that is all,” he said, the edge in his tone slipping out before he could catch it.

Seraphina blinked, taken aback by his bitterness. “Eager? The blackmailer has been dealt with, Alice is thriving, and the purpose of our marriage has been fulfilled. I am simply trying to facilitate the next logical step without unnecessary delay. Besides, you came into my bedchamber to tell me about the process.”

“Logical,” William repeated, massaging his nape as frustration surged through his veins. “It seems as though that is your favorite word. Always logic. Always pragmatism.”

Silence settled between them. William turned and began to pace the floorboards. He could feel her eyes tracking his movement, observing his shoulders and the furious energy he could no longer contain. Ever since they had stepped out of Lady Byron’s house four days ago, the anger had been clawing at his chest, a chaotic storm of fury at her guardian, at the arrangement, and most of all, at himself.

She let out a soft sigh, folding her hands over her waist. “Why are you so angry, William?”

William stopped dead in his tracks, turning his head to glare at her. “I am not angry.”

“You are furious,” she countered directly, stepping closer to him, entirely unbothered by his intimidating frame. “You have been in an absolute rage ever since we returned from the countryside. You barely speak at breakfast, you avoid Alice in the afternoons, and you stalk through the corridors like a thundercloud. I thought... well, I thought after I confessed my feelings to you in the carriage, and after we cleared up the matter of the letters, that things between us might become less awkward. Instead, you are more rigid and upset than ever. Why?”

William stared down at her, his chest heaving under his coat. Looking at her face, her curious eyes, and the lack of panic in her demeanor, something inside him simply snapped.

How could she stand there so unaffected while his entire world was tearing apart at the seams?

“Do you even have any true conception of what filing for an annulment entails, Seraphina?” he asked, stepping into her space, his voice tight, like he was clenching his teeth as he spoke.

Seraphina frowned, her brow furrowing slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean the actual, physical reality of the process,” he said, his eyes burning into hers. “It is not merely Jameson writing ink on parchment. To annul a marriage on the grounds of non-consummation, the Consistory Court does not simply take our polite word for it. You will be required to appear before a panel... a matronly tribunal appointed by the court. Strangers. Strange women. You will be subjected to an invasive, humiliating physical examination by strangers to verify your... status.”

He broke off, the words catching in his throat. He gripped his hips, his breath ragged, waiting for the shock or indignation to finally break through her calm exterior.

Seraphina did not flinch. Her expression softened, though her gaze remained entirely unbothered. “I read about the medical inspection, William. I know what the law demands. It will be uncomfortable, yes, and entirely tedious, but it is a legal necessity. I am prepared to endure it.”

William let out an incredulous noise, turning his face toward the ceiling. He felt as though he were screaming into a void. “You are prepared to endure it. Of course you are.”

“Why does that upset you?” she asked, genuinely bewildered now. She took another step toward him, her hand reaching out as if to touch his arm before pulling back. “What is going on with you, William? Why are you so fine with nothing, yet so terribly furious with everything?”

“Because you are so fine with everything!” William said loudly.

Seraphina recoiled slightly, her eyes widening. “What?”

“You are maddeningly fine with every monstrous thing that happens to you,” William declared, pacing toward her with broad strides. “First, it was Lady Byron. That woman put you through weeks of absolute hell. She made you panic, she made you fear for your livelihood, she drove you to break into my house, and when you discovered it was all a selfish, manipulative game to force you home, what do you do? You forgive her. You comfort her. You promise her that the moment our annulment is granted, you will pack your trunks and spend the rest of your days living with her.”

“She is an old woman who is lonely, William,” Seraphina defended, her own voice rising to meet his energy. “I understand her. I know what it is to be terrified of losing the people you love, to build walls of coldness around yourself. I understand why she did it, even if her methods were deeply flawed. It is my place to forgive her if I choose to.”

“What about us?” William demanded, stopping inches from her, his breath falling warm against her forehead. His heart slammed violently in his chest. “What about me? We have not talked, Seraphina.”

“About what?” Seraphina questioned, her chest heaving as tears of frustration pricked at the corners of her eyes. “I am tired of talking, William. Nothing will change, will it? You are confusing me. I don’t know why you seem so angry. Is it pride? Would you rather have me beg you to keep me? To crawl at your feet? Is that what this is? You cannot imagine that I will leave quietly because who in their right mind annuls a marriage with the Duke of Norwyn? This is what you wanted!”

William froze. He stared down at her... at her trembling lips, the fierce shine in her eyes, and the courage radiating from her small frame.

A suffocating wave of realization crashed over him. Every defense he had built, every piece of practicality he had hidden behind, crumbled into dust. He wanted to reach out and seize her by the shoulders. He wanted to pull her against his chest, crush his mouth to hers, and obliterate every inch of the distance between them.

He was terrified. He wanted to lay his soul bare, to confess that ever since the night she had come into his study, ever since that breathless, desperate kiss, he had been hopelessly undone by her.

The house felt alive only when her voice echoed through its halls. Alice no longer looked at her as a guest, but as the mother she had longed for, and the thought of Norwyn Manor reverting to its hollow silence filled him with agony.