Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
“Your Grace,” Daphne greeted hesitantly.
She stood by the doorway to the Duke’s study, trying to catch his attention. He seemed preoccupied with everything that he had on his table, which included a towering stack of ledgers. Books littered the floor. It had never looked chaotic like this.
“Yes, Duchess?” he responded, surprising her that he actually heard her. However, he did not lift his head. Whatever was on his parchment must have been critical to a fault.
Then, his quill stopped. It seemed that she had managed to gain his attention.
“Victoria, Wilhelmina, and Elizabeth are planning to visit the market fair near the Thames today,” she continued, gingerly stepping into the room.
She had laid in bed for hours last night thinking about speaking to her husband this morning.
But now that they were both in the same place at the same time, her nerves jangled and twitched.
Daphne realized that she had held her breath, hoping that he would say yes and that he was no longer furious. While she might be able to accept that what they had was nothing but an arrangement, she could not imagine a life with someone who hated her.
“They insist it’s the best day to explore and find the best purchase before winter finally reigns supreme with colder temperatures. I—I also haven’t been to a proper fair in years.”
She knew she was rambling, and that she sounded a little desperate, but the words came tumbling out. She shifted from one foot to the other, looking at her boots instead of Adrian’s face.
“A market fair,” he repeated, his deep voice making her look at him. Really look at him.
The Duke looked tired. She wished she could just approach him and touch his face with the palm of her hand. The intensity coming from his gaze felt like thorough inspection, but she welcomed it now. She welcomed the interaction that she missed from him.
“A market fair means crowds and vendors. It speaks of public disarray,” he mumbled, looking disgruntled.
“Is that how you see one, Your Grace? A market fair also means roasted chestnuts and spiced cider. It means visiting with your family and friends as you brave the chill of winter about to come into full force soon. There’s nothing dangerous about shopping.
I will be with my sisters, and I will not stay gone long.
I imagine we will be out for a couple of hours. ”
This time, he placed the quill into the inkwell. Then, he rose from his chair, using his frame and height to dominate the space. She could imagine the many times he’d used it for business. She didn’t think he was doing it to make her fear him.
“It won’t be necessary, Duchess,” he murmured.
“I am not asking for permission, Your Grace,” she said, her pitch rising.
She felt a sense of panic. Was he finally going to hold her prisoner?
“I am merely informing you that I need to see my sisters and spend time with them doing something I love to do. I need to breathe in the fresh, crisp air and not the dust of old secrets you won’t even share. ”
She could see how his jaw tightened at her words. He was certainly displeased.
“You misunderstand me, wife,” he retorted, taking a step around the desk and towards her. “I am not forbidding you to go to your market fair. I am merely telling you that it is not necessary for you to go alone. I will be accompanying you.”
Daphne’s eyes widened, as she absorbed his words. “Your Grace, I am heading for a public market with my sisters. I won’t be attending a private soiree or walking in empty alleys. You, as the Duke of Wolfcrest, attending such a fair will cause a spectacle!”
“I am aware of the etiquette here, my dear,” he said, closing the distance between them.
He was so close that she could feel the heat coming from him. How was it possible? The man had such an effect on her she could not understand it. There were times she could not even bear it.
“Even if I believe you are safe with your sisters, I will not let you out of my sight until I am certain Briarwood will no longer be a threat. Also remember that while a Duke of my reputation can cause a stir, so can a duchess like you. Everyone is talking about you after Salthouse insulted you. I insist on accompanying you.”
“Is Briarwood still a threat?” She stared at him, bewildered by his mentioning of the name that was only spoken between them when it was a necessity.
“Briarwood is… I do not trust him.”
“Even now—after all this time has elapsed?”
The Duke nodded curtly. “Even now.”
Daphne now understood that his insistence was the result of fear, not confidence.
Something had happened in the last few weeks.
Briarwood had somehow managed to unnerve her husband and spark paranoia in him.
With his history of loss, it was clear that he didn’t want to suffer another one through her.
She could not deny him the need to protect.
“Very well, Your Grace,” she agreed, her voice softening.
Wasn’t this what she wanted? Peace between them?
“However, you must promise to enjoy the activity as much as I would. Enjoy the common pleasures. Do not glare at the vendors. While you may cause a stir, at least do so in the proper way. Make them see that you are not someone to be afraid of.”
Adrian’s lips quivered as if in amusement. The rare sight made her heart soar.
“I make no such promises, Duchess, at least regarding the glare,” he teased, his thumb reaching for her cheek and rubbing the skin there. She shivered. “However, I promise to enjoy the common pleasures. Now, let us get ready for our little jaunt.”
Adrian set out for the market fair with his lovely wife by his side.
From the very beginning, it was an assault to his senses.
The market was beautiful, the little stalls decorated and packed with goods.
It was all noise and chaos, so much different from the hushed halls of Wolfcrest or the secretive world of the Obsidian Card.
The sky was pale above them and the crisp air provided everyone with the extra energy needed to enjoy everything. Various pleasant scents invaded his nostrils—of sugar, herbs, and wood. The ground was slightly damp, but not so slippery that people would be unable to navigate the various stalls.
Children’s laughter and carriages rumbling on the roads mixed with greetings and conversations.
It was what a normal life sounded like. Dukes weren’t often privy to such normalcy.
He was reminded of the snowball fight he and his Duchess had engaged in weeks ago in the village outside Wolfcrest. He had been happy then.
He dressed conservatively in dark, heavy wool. He always had the urge to blend in with the crowd but always failed. His height and obvious aristocracy always made him stand out in the crowd.
On the other hand, his wife looked at home even though she was the most beautiful woman to visit the market fair that day. Of that, he was certain. She was cozily bundled in a navy cloak. He made certain she was dressed warmly. Strands of her dark golden hair framed her cheeks, pink from the cold.
Her sisters were already waiting near a stall selling hot ginger beer. They looked as thrilled as Daphne, stretching their arms to give her a hug. Victoria, her twin, had always been the loud, bold one. She grinned widely at the Duke, as if sensing that he felt like a fish out of water.
“Your Grace, I am delighted that you have deigned to join us!” she exclaimed, giving him a theatrical curtsy.
He doubted that she was sincere, but nodded back as a response, anyway.
“I was afraid Daphne was exaggerating your protectiveness and utter devotion for her. But look! We have a Wolf in our midst, but he is here on our side.”
“Lady Victoria, you know that things can be dangerous in crowded places. We might not see the threat hiding in plain sight,” he muttered, as he gave the sisters a bow.
Elizabeth, quieter and more observant, cast Daphne a look that Adrian could only guess was questioning, perhaps even worried. He knew her family did not completely trust him yet, and he could not blame them. Daphne replied with a subtle shake of the head and a smile.
Soon, they moved deeper into the crowd. Adrian momentarily forgot his fears and let himself get into the rhythm of the market fair.
He could not maintain the distance from other people he desired because of how dense the crowd was.
He felt himself grow rigid. His tense muscles were ready for anything.
Daphne stopped at a stall. True enough, here were the roasted chestnuts she talked about. They smelled delicious and her delighted look showed that she was happy to be there.
“May I have a cone of chestnuts?” she asked, as she fumbled for her purse.
“Certainly, Your Grace,” the vendor replied, expertly pouring some roasted chestnuts into a paper cone for her.
She laughed heartily when she finally got what she came for. Adrian could not help but follow the way her eyes crinkled, and her mouth curled into a pleased smile. He squeezed his eyes shut to savor the way she moaned when she tasted the chestnuts.
Then, they moved on to the next stall. He found himself instinctively protecting her.
When a large gentleman brushed too close to his wife, his hand immediately shot out to block any possible contact.
Daphne gasped when she felt him tug at her waist, drawing her closer to him.
It was not a surprising move, given how people were walking too close to each other.
He was just a man protecting his wife, and not someone looking for a scandal.
“Your Grace,” Daphne breathed.
“It is too crowded,” he explained. “Someone almost bumped you. Do not move far from my side.”