Page 16 of Duke in Darkness

Exton stared at her incredulously. “What?”

She looked over his shoulder at the clock on the mantelpiece, unable to meet the intensity of his gaze, knowing how ridiculous the words were, even as she spoke them. He was her husband, and they were alone in her bedchamber. No one would dream of disturbing them. “It’s not proper. It’s ah, morning!”

“I’m aware of the hour. Not what that has to do with…kissing my wife.”

“It has everything to do with it! We are a duke and duchess.”

Exton stilled. “What is the matter? Didn’t you like the kiss?”

“It is all wrong,” she burst out desperately, refusing to answer the question, refusing to admit she had liked it very much, because that might lead to more questions and she was so tired of always being the one on uneven, shaky ground. “Marital relations is done at night! In the dark! And I will be bathed, and my hair in a braid, and wearing my nightgown in bed when, ah, when you visit for the first time. That is how it is to be. Not like this. Not standing next to…next to breakfast dishes!”

Surprisingly, a faint blush highlighted his cheekbones, and he inclined his head. “You are right. I forgot myself. You are a lady.”

“Yes!” she replied sharply, summoning righteous anger and grasping his words as tightly as he had grasped her wrists not so long ago. “I am a lady. A duchess. Certainly not some hot-blooded wanton!”

All expression left his face. “Point made, Lilian. I’ll leave you alone. But know that tonight…we will dine. You’ll bathe and attend your hair. Wear your nightgown. For me. Understood?”

Her knees practically knocked together, but she managed a curtsy. “Yes, Your Grace.”

“Good day, wife,” he said with a small bow, then her husband turned and limped from the room, closing the door connecting their chambers with a firm thud.

Stumbling across to the window seat, Lilian sank down onto it. Her whole body felt cold and shivery now, even though the fire burned merrily in the fireplace. Swiftly, she snatched up an embroidered cushion and held it tight against her churning stomach.

How would she make it through the day, knowing what was to come? Everything that Grandmother had said before the ceremony now swirled and twisted in her mind. Pain. There would be terrible pain. And Exton would do the horrid thing to her with his too-large man part over and over again, until whatever needed to happen, actually happened, and she got with child.

It might not be all horrid. You liked him kissing you.

Lifting her hand, she touched a fingertip to her still-swollen and tender lips. Shame filled her. She had nearly brushed her breasts against his chest, and let her tongue tangle with his.

Not the behavior of a duchess, but a hot-blooded wanton like her mother. Grandmother would be furious.

Lilian took a deep breath. She needed to stop this foolishness. Every married woman in history had had a wedding night, and all had endured. Besides, the sheer number of ton babies being born said ladies everywhere were doing their duty rather than being twits with the fortitude of syllabub. All she had to do was lie quietly and still, as a lady, as a duchess should. Once she knew what to expect, it would be far easier. And as Grandmother had said, once she birthed the heir and spare, Exton wouldn’t trouble her at all for marital relations.

She could do this.

She would do this.

Tonight.

CHAPTER 4

His wife resembled a prisoner downing her last meal.

Gabriel sighed and took another gulp of wine. A gentleman wouldn’t be frustrated—she was a virgin, God knew what rot about the marriage bed had been crammed into her head, not to mention he would never be the husband of her dreams.

But after the intoxicating kiss they had shared in her bedchamber, he’d been hopeful Lilian might be at least a little eager. Instead, she sat pale and stoic, restricting conversation to the kind of topics no doubt given the seal of approval by her harridan grandmother. Yet he couldn’t even take her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze as he’d done in the chapel, not with a mile of polished oak dining table, and enough crystal, silver, and elaborate floral centerpieces to sink a warship between them. And as Aunt Imogen had taken to dining in her chamber with her companion Clarissa to give the newlyweds ‘privacy,’ no one else could act as a conversation buffer. At least the room was well lit, its one saving grace.

In all honesty though, he probably wasn’t helping matters with one misstep after another when it came to etiquette. The chef was probably insulted because he turned away all the rich ducal dishes, preferring plain beef, a serving of vegetables sans sauce, and freshly baked bread and butter. Soldier food. Which he’d eaten as he always did; quickly rather than savoring. He poured his own wine rather than have a footman do it, because he didn’t want men standing anywhere near him. Certainly not hovering near his shoulder.

“Did you enjoy supper, Exton?”

Gabriel forced himself to smile. There would be countless conversations about the weather and food in his future, not just from his wife, but all the other members of the ton. He needed to get his short, bland assurances in order, and practiced so they could be replied without stutter or pause. “Most adequate. Thank you.”

Lilian nodded, and lifted her wine glass for a small sip, although her hand trembled and the crystal clinked against the edge of her plate. Now she looked both mortified and even paler. “Do excuse me.”

He sighed again at the uncomfortable awkwardness between them. Right at this moment there were couples all over England enjoying proper courtships. Learning about each other’s likes and dislikes, having long conversations about meaningful things. Kissing and touching, maybe even fucking each other senseless if they felt strongly enough and could arrange some time alone together. Mothers and chaperones tended to be much less vigilant once the betrothal was settled. Either way, the marital bed wouldn’t be something the bride dreaded, as his virgin wife clearly did.

Gabriel envied them all.