Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Rose should have been asleep in bed.
She wanted to be asleep. She was tired to her core. Her entire body was worn through like an old shirt. She had no energy, was unable to focus, and whenever she tried to stand, the room turned around her.
But she was also angry, and stressed, and the last thing she could think of doing was lying down in a comfortable bed and drifting off to sleep as if she didn’t have a worry in the world.
All she had in this world were worries, and all of them were to do with her husband.
I cannot believe him. It is one thing to be ignored. But to be treated so rudely as that? To be spoken down to as if I do not matter? Of all the things I might have signed up for, that was not one of them!
Rather than doing the smart thing and retiring to her bedroom, Rose went to the library. As she was not allowed to use the Duke’s office, this here was her place of work.
She was sitting at the main table, lists of tasks she needed to do spread before her, eyes scanning them, the quill in her hand as she started to check off and underline those she needed to focus on. At least that’s what she should have been doing.
Frustratingly, her brain was foggy and thick, making it harder than it ought to have been to concentrate. Or to do much or anything, for that matter.
“I was hoping that we might talk,” a soft voice spoke from across the room.
Rose started in surprise and snapped her head up to see who had spoken. When she saw the culprit, she narrowed her eyes and bowed her head back over the desk. “I can’t imagine what about.”
Her husband walked across the room, unperturbed by the sharpness of her response. “I was hoping to explain what happened earlier,” he said.
“There is no need,” she said, still without looking. “I know well enough what happened.”
“No, I don’t think that you do.”
She scoffed. “It does not take a genius. You are angry with me. You saw your friends taking my side. You worried that I was going to—” She scoffed again.
“I do not even know. Win them over? Steal them from you? Whatever it was, in a desperate act to prove to yourself that you are still the man of this house, you –”
“That’s not it at all,” he said.
Christopher stopped in front of the table where she was sitting. He stayed back a few feet, however, but she could feel his eyes on her, unblinking and determined to have his way.
Rose’s head was spinning, and she really did not want to be doing this right now. If he is so desperate to pretend that I do not exist, why does he insist on talking to me at all? What does he want?
“It does not matter the reason.” Rose looked up from her work.
“Of course it does.”
“No,” she said. “It does not.”
She looked at him plainly, deciding that anger was not what this situation needed. Surprisingly, the Duke did not look angry with her either; if anything, she might have even said that she saw concern in his eyes.
That thought almost made her laugh. From all she knew of her husband so far, emotions such as worry and concern for another were not what he was known for.
But she met his eyes and held them. He no longer had that same effect over her that he did when she first saw him.
Yes, he was handsome and physically impressive, and the green of his eyes was certainly alluring.
But for Rose to have been affected by them, she needed to care about the man behind the eyes. As things stood, she simply did not.
A good thing, as he did not care about her either.
“If I apologize to you, will you leave this conversation as is, so I can get back to what I am doing?” she said simply.
He blinked. “Apologize to me? What for?”
“Oh, a many number of things. I suppose I can start with all the changes I have been making. Ones that, while I maintain they are for the best, I do concede that perhaps I should have checked with you before making them.”
“That is not what this is about.”
She snorted. “So, you’re not here to chastise me further for what I did to your ledgers?”
It was subtle, but a smile touched his lips, only to be strangled immediately. “I take it you are aware that the changes you made were correct.”
She shrugged. “I know they were. But that does not excuse me for making them in the first place. For that, I apologize.”
Her apology clearly surprised the Duke, as he looked at her blankly, dumbstruck, caught completely on the back foot and unsure what to say. Again, she thought she saw… something, pass behind his eyes. An emotion she could not guess because she was not used to seeing it.
“Your apology,” he began. “Do you mean it?”
“No,” she said without hesitation. “But it’s what you came here for, isn’t it? So, take it, please. And I promise that I won’t do anything of the sort without first asking.” She offered a fake smile, hoping that would be the end of it.
She needed it to be the end of it.
Rose was starting to get sick of it all. The sneaking around. The tension whenever they were together. It would just be easier, she decided then and there, if they cut ties right now, ended things on a positive note, and did as they originally promised they would: pretend the other did not exist.
Unfortunately, the Duke was of a different mind.
“I appreciate the apology, Rose, but that is not what I am here for.”
She groaned. “What do you want? Truly, can you please give me an honest answer? I am happy to avoid you. I am happy to live a life that disturbs you as little as possible. And I thought that you were the same, are you not? Please just tell me so we can get on with our lives. It is high time that we do.”
It came on her then. Suddenly and without warning.
A coughing fit. It started in her chest and worked its way up her throat, bursting from her mouth with such horrendous force that she nearly fell back from her chair.
“Rose!” the Duke swept around the table. “Are you –”
“I am fine!” She shot a hand out to keep him back.
“You are not.”
“I am.” She cleared her throat, taking ragged breaths as her body trembled. Energy was seeping from her, the room started to turn, and her mind. She was having a hard time seeing straight. “And please, don’t pretend that you care. We are past that point by now.”
“I do care.”
She laughed. “No, you do not. From what I have seen of you, the only thing you care about is, well, yourself.” She coughed further and punched her chest. “Certainly not me.”
“Rose.” The Duke reared back, and once again, it almost looked as if her words hurt him. Surely not? He would not care one bit what I think. “I hope you know that is not true.”
“Is that right?”
He bit into his lip, and this time she could see the worry clearly.
This time, for once, the Duke did not try to hide it.
“That is what I came here to speak to you about. The reason I stopped you from having a drink earlier had nothing to do with…” He scoffed.
“My friends, or what they might think. I was concerned for your well-being.”
“My well-being?”
“Yes.” He let his eyes roam over her, and Rose suddenly felt very exposed. “Rose, when was the last time you ate?”
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Or had a proper night of sleep? You look tired, Rose. Worn. Your skin is…” He grimaced. “It is pasty. And your eyes. How are you feeling right now? The truth.”
Were it anyone else saying it to her, Rose might have seen those words for what they were: concern and worry for her health. She would have admitted with some reluctance that she had been running herself ragged these past few days, and that she did perhaps need to slow down.
That’s how it always was with her. Whenever she was feeling stressed or unsure, she would double down on her tasks and work overtime to keep her mind busy. Often, meals were skipped. Usually, her sleep was heavily affected. And always, it ended with her getting sick.
She could feel that sickness now. She was weak. Her mind was fogged. The room turned around her. And her eyelids were heavy, drooping, despite how hard she worked to keep them open.
“I… I…” she started, nearly giving in.
“You need sleep,” the Duke said firmly. “And something to eat. Here, let me.” He held a hand out for her to take. “Please.”
Rose eyed the hand with trepidation. She wanted to take it, and she knew that she should do so.
However, her eyes lifted from the hand to the man to whom it belonged, and anger spewed through her.
Who was he to pretend that he cared? Who was he to come to her suddenly and act as if he had her best interests at heart?
He did not care. He was not worried. And whatever this was, she would not fall for it.
Is that stupid and stubborn of me? Yes, yes it is. Do I care? Not at all.
“I don’t want your help.” She slapped the hand away. “Nor do I want your pity.”
“I am not pitying you –”
“As I said, we both know what this marriage is, and I don’t expect you to pretend otherwise. Because why, exactly? A sudden moment of guilt? Did your friends bully you into it?”
“I was worried about you.”
She laughed. “And I don’t believe it. Now, if you do not mind, I think it is time for bed.” Rose fixed him with a final, rueful glare and jumped to her feet.
And then she fell back down.
It felt as if the floor was rising and the ceiling was sinking in concession. Her knees buckled, the strength in her body gave way, and she collapsed like a rag doll before she could say so much as a word.
“Rose!” The Duke acted quickly.
He swept her into his arms, his large and powerful arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her into his chest before there was a chance for her body to hit the floor.
“Oh!” she cried out, still in a daze, still not entirely sure what was happening. On instinct, one arm wrapped around his neck, and before she knew what was going on, he was holding her, and she was holding him.
Time seemed to stop.
Rose looked up and found the Duke’s green eyes holding her. In them, she saw now the concern and the worry that he had hinted at earlier. And she could feel the truth of it in the way he held her, how desperate he was to keep her safe. To protect her.
It was not an act. It was not born from guilt. It was real.
“I- I do not know…” she stammered weakly, her body trembling in his arms.
“You are not well,” he said, still holding her to him. “Please, let me help you.”
“I don’t need,” She swallowed. “Your help.”
He laughed, and she realized it might have been the first time she had heard such a thing. “You really are that stubborn?”
“Are you surprised?”
“No, I guess I am not.” A smile took his lips, grew slowly, and reached his eyes so they sparkled.
Rose’s breathing was heavy. Her body was weak. She could hardly think or even more. Yet, her heart began to thud loudly, a warmth spread through her limbs, and in that instant, she was transported back to the first time she had seen the Duke. A feeling that was alien to her, for so many reasons.
“Maybe I do need to rest,” she said softly, looking away because she could not stand to hold his eyes.
“And something to eat,” he said, just as softly.
“Perhaps just a little.”
“Can you?” Gently, he helped her to her feet, and when he let her go, Rose gasped, because it felt like he was tearing a piece of her away. “You can stand?”
Her legs wobbled, but she managed to stay on her feet. “I can.”
“Wait here.” The Duke turned and strode across the room.
“Where are you going?” she cried out, surprised by herself for doing it, because in that moment she found that she did not want him to leave her.
He reached the doorway, turned back, and smiled. “To fetch you something to eat. Will you be fine on your own?”
Despite herself, she smiled too. “I will be. And Christopher,” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Thank you.”
His smile remained; she saw him fighting it, just as she saw how he allowed it to win. “You are most welcome.” With that, he left the room.
Alone now, Rose stumbled to her chair and sat back down. Her head was still spinning. Her body was still shaking. And she still felt rotten, like her body might shatter should she not be careful.
There was more to how she was feeling, however, than the presence of her illness. Deep down, hidden away so that she could hardly sense it, there was… no, why would I be feeling such a thing? Why would I care at all?
It was hope. Buried deep. Long since forgotten. It gently peeked its head up and reminded Rose that it was there. Hope that this marriage wasn’t going to be the most horrid thing. Hope that her life was not over. And hope that her husband was more than she imagined.
This sense of hope warmed her, set her at ease, and caused Rose to smile. Such a small thing, but in the context of this last week, it was huge.