Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
“Asingle orchid, Duchess?” the Duke asked in a tone that was smooth as silk. “I thought you would have the house decked in white roses. Wasn’t that your preference?”
They were seated in the dining room, too far away from each other and with a distracting flower right in their midst. The aromatic scent from the single bloom somehow overpowered the sumptuous dishes that filled the table, but not by much. Not really.
Daphne was focused on the centerpiece she had chosen: a crimson Cattleya orchid.
She didn’t know what the Duke was talking about.
She still had the orchid decked with snow white roses.
They just weren’t the highlights of the arrangement.
The rest of the room was well-illuminated with candelabras.
She didn’t like shadows. The golden pools of light made her new husband’s black dinner coat shimmer.
“Well, I do love white roses, but Mrs. Fletcher said that the arrangement lacked drama, Your Grace,” she replied, using a completely even tone.
Despite her calm exterior, however, her heart pounded in her chest. The Duke had that effect on her.
“I do agree that the room needs a single point of interest that draws the eyes of everyone who passes by here.”
“Defiance,” he declared, smiling as if his own presumption pleased him so much. “Fascinating. To think that we will have dinner with that in sight.”
Daphne noted that despite his teasing, her husband had ensured that every dish she loved from childhood was present on the table.
Her mouth watered at the sight of the roast lamb.
The loaves of bread had been sliced thickly and laid across a platter that was directly in front of Daphne.
She imagined how her sister Marianne would be happy to see that vegetables were in abundance on the table together with caramelized apples and other treats.
The meal had many splendorous qualities, but she could also sense calculation in the choices.
“Defiance? No. How could I defy you when you’ve served me some of the best meals I’ve ever seen in my life?” she said, smirking at him. He was making her want to play his game. “I am merely trying to improve our surroundings.”
“You have succeeded, Duchess. My eyes went straight to the orchid as soon as I entered the room. I like that you made that happen.”
“I believe I am expected to improve the atmosphere of the estate. It is a duty that I am familiar with, having listened to my older sisters talk about the things they did for their husbands when they first became married.”
“A pity, then. I was hoping that you did it to provide me with personal attention,” he said, his eyes bright with mischief. She stared at him for a long moment watching the depth of his deep orbs sparkle.
“Your Grace is always perfectly attended to,” she retorted, using the same light voice, while not so subtly nodding at the footmen standing by the wall, waiting for orders. “You lack for nothing.”
The Duke chuckled softly, a sound that made her suppress her own gleeful smile.
She loved listening to the sound of his delighted laughter.
The footman moved forward and pulled the lid off a tureen in front of the Duke.
She could not tell what sort of bubbling dish swirled inside the crockery, but she took pleasure in seeing her husband’s grin spread wider.
“I am fully aware,” he murmured as he lifted a small serving spoon, dipped it in the saucy concoction, then ladled some onto his plate, “and I do not lack for gratitude. However, I seek more from you than insight into my affairs. I want stimulation from you. I need someone who can make running the estate more interesting. You did provide me with such needed entertainment, but I still prefer you to any of the ornaments here.”
Daphne felt her cheeks warm. She didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted.
She tried to hide her bewilderment by keeping her voice cool.
“I am no ornament, Your Grace. Some ornaments are beautiful, but also sturdy and resilient. Perhaps you wouldn’t know that with your preoccupation with your ledgers. ”
“You are, indeed, a challenge,” he said thoughtfully as he chewed a bit of his dinner.
“Every moment, I am seeing more why Briarwood has become obsessed with you. But unlike him, I have no wish to merely possess you or put you on a shelf where you might gather dust.” He took another small taste of the thick, brown sauce, then smiled at her.
“I am willing to take the challenge that is you.”
They shared a long look, then the Duke motioned for the footman to carry the tureen to Daphne’s end of the table. With the dish now in front of her, she was free to try the rich, savory sauce as well.
The meal progressed from there as the pair fell into a bit of jovial conversation. Soon Daphne felt more comfortable. She realized that the Duke simply liked talking that way with her. She wondered if he was flirtatious with everyone and was not certain if she liked the thought at all.
With Briarwood, she was certain of the possibility of the man wanting her as a possession.
She was not that certain about Wolfcrest. He seemed flirtatious, throwing compliments here and there.
It was a more self-assured kind of courtship.
However, he was careful enough not to overstep.
He had never touched her inappropriately.
Even when they were walking together, he kept a respectable distance.
Despite that, the air was thick with what she could only guess was sensuality.
It made her breathe faster and squirm in her seat.
It must be the way he drawled his words or watched her with heavy-lidded eyes.
When the tension got too intense, he would return to his former bantering tone, and they would feel like good friends once more.
“You’ve gone to so much trouble for this dinner, Your Grace,” she said softly, even as she took a spoonful of caramelized sugar and spooned it into her mouth.
Her mother would be horrified to know that she was being indulged in the Duke’s estate.
“You know what I like, and you’ve given so much attention to detail. ”
He was suddenly more serious. “For you, Duchess, it’s no trouble at all.”
“Y-yet…”
“What is it, Duchess?”
She could not bring herself to wonder aloud why her husband had decided something else was more important than pushing their relationship a bit further.
There was not even an attempt at seduction, or even the desire to be within the same space once night fell.
These dinners they shared were lovely, but also vexing because once the meal was over, she and the Duke would part from one another and not be reunited until the morning hours.
Perhaps she should be relieved. If she had married Briarwood, she would probably be already traumatized by now. She might be the obedient Brighton daughter, but she was not naive.
“Never mind,” she replied softly, bowing her head toward her plate. Perhaps she should not have eaten so much. The sweetness of the sugar had clearly loosened her tongue and made her think all the thoughts in her head were worth sharing.
“Ah. I think you may be wondering about my affairs,” he said thoughtfully, not teasing this time.
He had suddenly straightened his spine. In that moment, she saw the intimidating man who had managed to cow Briarwood. Suddenly, he looked like a completely different person. “I deal with a variety of things that require discretion and immediate action.”
“It looks like the type of marriage we will be having is becoming clearer to me,” Daphne quipped. “I believe discretion can only be properly applied to ledgers and contracts, not on activities that affect the marriage bed. Briarwood seems terrified of you. Should I be afraid, as well?”
“Briarwood,” Wolfcrest murmured, unsuccessfully hiding his annoyance. “I do not like how you insist upon mentioning that man in my household. Have I not done my best to alleviate your concerns? Did I not save you from his clutches?”
With a quick nod, the Duke dismissed his footmen. Daphne’s hands turned cold. What was he planning to do? What was he planning to say?
“Briarwood is a snake, make no mistake about it,” he continued as soon as his staff had left. “Do not allow him to occupy your thoughts further.”
“I remember well what you said in the carriage ride from the wedding chapel to this home. You swore that you would teach Briarwood a lesson. Have you achieved that goal yet?”
When the Duke did not answer her, Daphne set down her fork and stared at him blatantly. The sound was almost deafening to her. Still, she continued.
“I am now your wife, even if we didn’t begin as one would expect a married couple. Whatever perils may befall you, may also befall me and I must know what these possible dangers are even though I can see you are capable of protecting me.”
“We have a contract, Duchess. I believe you understand the terms rightly. While your curiosity about my work is understandable, these probing questions go too far. Focus on the beauty of our friendship, and we can make this marriage work to both our advantages.”
“I have been obedient for too long,” she said, almost gasping when she realized it was true that she was tired of being the same thing over and over again.
The obedient and dutiful daughter.
The calm twin who could be presented to polite society.
The quiet wife who asked nothing of her husband.
Everyone underestimated her. Briarwood thought of her as weak and inferior, and perhaps, to some extent, Wolfcrest felt the same way about her, too.
He leaned forward, too far away to touch her but the movement still had her sitting up straighter. With a voice a few octaves lower, he said, “You defy me so much, my proper wife. Why?”
She inhaled sharply. Whatever she was feeling in that dining room was no longer about fearing his business. It was about fearing what he could do to her, and what she might want him to do.
“Perhaps, in reality, you want the Wolf?”
The question cut through her composure rendering her speechless. Had she been standing, the lady might have swooned. He didn’t say anything that would be banned from polite society, and yet, there was a raw suggestion of everything she had tried to forget and keep hidden away.
Daphne, for all her softness, wanted the sense of mischief she had glimpsed in him. She wondered about his strength and how he could use it against his enemies, and use it to…
She faltered, shaking her head at the thoughts that were wreaking havoc in her head. He was asking her if she didn’t want a husband but a master.
The way his amber eyes watched her made her breath hitch. As soon as she internally acknowledged all her feelings, she flushed. Her cheeks and chest flushed while her ears heard a roaring sound. She opened her mouth, then closed it.
She should leave.
Abruptly, she rose from her seat. Half-stumbling, she left the dining room. Her departure was so hurried that she sent her chair crashing against the polished wooden floor.
“I, uh, am so sorry.”
In that moment, she was as mortified as the single vibrant orchid, and not quite as pure as the white roses that surrounded it.