Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Florentia stood by the base of the staircase as she waited patiently for the last of the guests to leave.
She had not been asked to do so. Her husband did not imply that he wished for it, nor did he tell her that she need not bother.
And seeing as this was her home now too, and this was the first day of their marriage, she figured that it was the right thing to do.
Why do I feel like an intruder in my own home? And why does my husband not seem to care?
He was busy at the moment, standing at the open doorway, forcing politeness as he bid farewell to Lord Heatherington, who was doing everything that he could to ignore the duke’s icy temperament and clear desire to see him leave.
“...a drink, perhaps?” Lord Heatherington asked, halfway out the door, but looking back into the manor with a sense of hope. “Now that the other hangers-on have departed, we have much to discuss.”
“Another time, perhaps.”
“Do not think I will forget!” he chortled. “You owe me one drink.”
“I look forward to it.”
“And that promenade, Your Grace.” He caught Florentia watching and his eyes lit up. “Perhaps this coming Saturday, hmm? If there are no objections?”
The duke looked over his shoulder, saw Florentia standing there, and gave no sign that he might consider such a proposal, or cared what her opinion was. He returned to Lord Heatherington. “We shall discuss it and get back to you.”
“See that you do. And another thing—”
“Lord Heatherington, it was pleasant to see you today, and I thank you for making the time.” The duke’s tone darkened; the implication was clear now. “We will speak again shortly.”
Lord Heatherington’s face dropped. “Yes...” A shake of the head and he brightened. “What am I thinking! Honestly, I need a smack over the head, do I not? Overstaying my welcome!”
“Not at all.”
“You will hear from me shortly.”
“I look forward to it.”
“And you, Your Grace!” he spoke past the duke, to Florentia who still stood waiting. “A wonderful day, I wish you all the best.”
She offered him a tight smile. Although she was not as socially callous as her husband, she too was hoping to see the persistent lord leave already so she might have some time alone with Hudson.
It was not something she was looking forward to, but rather a necessary evil which she hoped would rectify what had been a most tragic start to this marriage.
Still, she could not stop thinking about what had occurred between them earlier as they had danced together.
Deciding that she needed to try harder, Florentia had done everything she was able to try and coax her husband from his shell, praying that he was just nervous and a little shy, that if she showed him warmth and kindness and honesty, he might begin to see her the way she wished to be seen.
Alas, as was typical with Florentia, she had gotten carried away and gone too far.
There had been a moment. A brief instant where he had relaxed and smiled and seemed to be enjoying himself. A flittering second where Florentia had dared to dream of what might be.
Then, most predictably, he had pulled away and snapped at her.
He had turned angry. Her attempts at playing fun and joking with him had backfired horribly, and he had not spoken with her once since, or so much as looked at her.
He really is a cold toad, and despite what Albina claims, I cannot foresee a glimmer of warmth in the man whose bed I am now expected to share.
But Florentia was not one to give up. As stubborn as a mule, she had spent the rest of the day preparing herself for this moment right here.
There was still one thing she needed to learn of her husband, the most important thing in her mind.
And whether he liked it or not, before the day was through, she was going to get an answer.
“Thank God...” Her husband sighed as he closed the door behind Lord Heatherington. “I thought the man would never leave.”
“He certainly is eager, isn’t he?” she agreed.
The duke looked up at her as if he had forgotten that she was standing there. A moment passed between them as he studied her, the space between them only twenty feet or so, but it felt like a ravine that might see them fall to their death if they tried to cross it.
“I have myself to blame,” he said. “I must remind myself not to be so nice in the future.”
Florentia snorted before she could stop herself. The noise echoed through the foyer and her eyes went wide with embarrassment. “I...I do not think that is a problem you need to concern yourself with.”
He frowned at the joke. “Yes, well... I hope you did not have your heart set on a promenade with Lord Heatherington and his wife, because I cannot think of anything worse.”
“I will find a way to get over it,” she said. “Somehow, I do not think it will be so difficult to do.”
Again, he looked at her with a sense of clear confusion.
Florentia had a rather sarcastic personality, often making jokes out of situations that most would not think to. Often, it got her in trouble. And more often than that, she wished she had the ability to think before speaking.
This was even more the case with her husband, who clearly did not share her sense of humor, and clearly did not understand it.
“Ordinarily, we would be sitting for supper at this time,” he said carefully, his heavy brow tightening as he attempted to navigate a situation that he looked most uncomfortable in.
“But you will forgive me if this evening I abstain. It has been a long day, I have eaten more than any man should, and what I require more than anything is rest.”
“Of course,” she agreed and held her stomach. “I ate enough to satisfy a horse, so I was not expecting supper.”
“Good.” He nodded his head once, pleased, it seemed. “In that case, I shall have the staff show you to your quarters. Your things have been unpacked already, as per my instruction, and I hope that you find your new room to your liking.”
“I am sure it will be more than adequate.”
“Tomorrow,” he continued. “I will arrange for a tour of the grounds, if you wish it.”
“A tour...” She felt herself smile with hope. “You and me?”
He leaned back. “I am busy, but I can have the staff show you about. There is much to see, enough that it will surely occupy you for most of the day.”
“Oh...” Her smile faded. “Yes, of course. The staff.”
“Good.” He nodded his head again, satisfied with the outcome of this conversation—why he was, she could not guess.
There was no warmth to it. No excitement or eagerness.
Again, that feeling that this was all business in the duke’s eyes, and that this marriage, for the rest of its days, would be a cold and lonely thing.
“In that case, I shall see you on the morrow.”
The duke straightened and began to cross the foyer, looking past her, focused on the staircase as if she was not even there. It was as if he was trying to escape her, with no concern at all for how she might be feeling, and no indication that he cared or thought he needed to.
Florentia’s first instinct was to let him pass.
And dammit, that inclination roared inside of her, begging her to step aside because nothing good could come from asking what she desperately wished to ask.
The duke was clearly in a mood—what else is new?
—and her fear was that if she raised the point that sat on the tip of her tongue it might make things worse.
Worse? How could things possibly be any worse?
To let him go now would set a precedent that she could not abide. She was his wife. This was their wedding day. To not ask him, to not let him know where her mind was, would not only do her a disservice but doom this marriage to failure before it even begun.
Her stomach turned with nervousness. She felt that she might be sick. But she steeled herself the best she could and as her husband reached her, she stepped across to block his path.
“There is one more thing...” she began gently.
“Oh?” He came to a stop suddenly, careful not to get too close.
“I was just wondering…I have been thinking about today and...seeing as it is our wedding night...I do not mean to be forward but...” She was stammering as if she had forgotten how to speak!
Her face turned red and her body was shaking.
Florentia could feel the duke’s eyes on her and she tried to meet them, panicked, and looked away.
“In all the rush that was this arrangement...” A deep breath and she snapped her head up and met his gaze.
“We did not have time to discuss the expectations of this marriage.”
“Expectations? What expectations?”
“You know...” She swallowed. “Concerning you and me and...” She swallowed again as she felt herself begin to sweat. “Seeing as you are a duke, I would assume that certain things are expected—even required.” She raised an eyebrow, praying he would understand.
“Such as?”
She groaned inwardly, knowing now she would just have to say it. “Such as an heir. That we produce an heir together.”
His eyes turned wide and for the first time ever, he looked unsure. “Oh...”
“I would not normally be so forward,” she hurried. “But it is our wedding day, and I am not so innocent that I do not know what is expected of me. Of us. And seeing as we are now alone...”
She was shaking so terribly she was certain that he could feel the tremors through the floor, and yet somehow, through sheer force of will, Florentia forced herself to reach out for her husband, resting a hand on his arm. “I wondered if you might like to try...”
The duke snatched his arm away and Florentia staggered.
“Your Grace—”
“Please. Florentia,” she cut him off bravely. “You may call me Florentia.”
“Florentia...” He said the name as if it hurt to do so. “This is... I am not...” He groaned and rubbed his eyes. “This is my fault, I do not deny it, and I am willing to accept full responsibility. Now I am realizing that this is a conversation we should have had weeks ago.”