Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Well, I might have handled that better...
Hudson paced his bedroom as he worked to calm himself down. Still, he shook with anger, and still his heart raced from the sheer fury which raged through him like a rabid dog.
He did not like feeling this way. Anger.
Frustration. Vexation. Any emotion which undid him as had just happened was not one which he wished to give in to, preferring a state of calm and control.
Anything less than that was a weakness. Annoyingly, when it came to his stepmother, good sense and reason left the room and it was all he could do not to start breaking things.
What was she thinking? Seeking out my wife after I told her specifically not to. Disobeying my direct orders! And why? Because she simply cannot help herself.
Worse yet was how he had just left things with Florentia.
That, as much as anything, was why he was feeling like such a damned fool.
And to think, the evening had been going so well.
They had been speaking pleasantly. They had been getting along.
Hudson had managed to steer through the social nuances of the night without making a mockery of himself.
He might have even gone so far as to say that Florentia was having a good time.
She was, quite possibly. Now, I have no doubt that she is searching for a means to abandon this marriage, this estate, and me. For her own safety, if nothing else.
Perhaps this marriage was a mistake? That was what Hudson chose to focus on as he paced.
Yes, from a business point of view, it was a huge success, that much was clear.
Now, however, Hudson was forced to consider that there was more to a marriage than the money it might bring him.
Dammit, he found himself caring about Florentia and what she thought of him.
So concerned was he that he could not imagine having to face her again, for the embarrassment he would feel at the way he had acted might just undo him.
And after tonight, there was little chance she would ever want to lay eyes on him again—
A soft knock at the door had him starting.
“Your Grace...” a voice spoke from beyond the closed door. “Hudson?”
His eyes widened at the sound of his wife’s soft voice. What was she doing here? Had she come to tell him she wished to move out? Or perhaps to tell him off for how he had behaved? Both were reasonable expectations, and he deserved nothing less.
Hudson was no coward. He was not one to run from his fears. Thus, although he did not relish what was about to happen, he stood himself up tall, took a deep breath, and bade her enter.
“Come in,” he said.
The door creaked open slowly to reveal Florentia standing on the other side.
She stood back a ways, careful not to enter the room—frightened, she must have been.
Not that she cowered or reared back. In fact, once Hudson caught sight of her, he took note of the look on her face and frowned. Was that...was that concern?
“Yes?” he barked before he could stop himself. “What is it?”
Florentia hesitated, giving Hudson another second to take her in.
She truly was a beauty, and Hudson’s opinion on that had not changed since the first time he had seen her.
With her strawberry blonde hair, big blue eyes, and the freckles that dusted her button nose, she was a picture of perfection any way that he looked at it.
Taller than average, slender in frame, she was not willowy and nothing about her suggested weakness.
There was a confidence in her gait always, a sense that little might unnerve her, and nothing could dissuade her once she had made up her mind.
These were qualities he had seen in her tonight. Putting aside the biting humor. Ignoring the sharp tongue. It was her presence and assurance in oneself that Hudson had found most alluring; a true duchess, if he had ever seen one.
“I wished to make sure that you are feeling well,” she asked, not timidly, but with that same sense of concern he could see on her face.
“I am fine,” he said shortly. “Why would I not be?”
“You left rather abruptly,” she said, not at all put out by his tone. “I thought it best to double check that nothing was the matter. And...” She bit her lower lip. “And that nothing I did was the cause.”
Why is she being so understanding? Why does she care? Is this a trick? Some sort of joke? Or is it exactly how it looks? My wife, worried for me...
Hudson’s first instinct was defense, and he very nearly snapped at her to mind her own business.
But he curbed that notion, for once thinking through the situation as he searched for the right response.
She was not here to mock him, and she had done nothing wrong.
At the very least, she deserved to know it.
“It is fine,” he sighed, feeling the anger leave him. “And what occurred just now…it has nothing to do with you. I promise you that much.”
“Your stepmother,” she said, taking a brave step into the room.
“Yes...” Hudson’s lip curled. “My stepmother. She has the unique ability to upend me. So powerful is this ability of hers that she does not even need to be in the same room as me.”
She chuckled softly. “That is quite the power. I must ask her how she does it.”
“Ignoring everything I say is a good start.”
“She is that bad?”
“She is...” He sighed again, his shoulders slumping.
“She is not worth speaking of. Our history is long and ugly and to speak of it will only upset me. What is important to know is that tonight...” Hudson felt his stomach twist itself into knots.
“...I thoroughly enjoyed myself, Florentia. And for that, I thank you.”
“As did I,” she beamed and took another step into the room. “Unexpectedly so.”
“Was it so unexpected?”
She snorted. “Not quite as unexpected as how the night ended. But yes, I did not think it would be nearly as pleasant as it was.”
“I deserved that,” he chuckled. Still, his stomach continued to twist with what he assumed must have been nerves. But as to why he was so nervous...this was very unlike him. “And it is my hope that we might do it again.”
“So long as you promise not to leave so quickly next time.”
His expression flattened. “And how many more times can I expect for you to bring that up?”
She grinned. “At least a couple more, I would think. Assuming that I do not annoy you in doing so.” He could see her relaxing, and he sighed with relief as he realized she was not going to hold tonight against him.
“I would very much like to do it again. For example, I shall be breaking my fast tomorrow morning...”
“As will I.”
“And while I do so love my own company, it would not be the worst thing to have another to break it with.”
He could not help but laugh. “Then I will see you there.”
“I look forward to it.” Her smile remained and she made sure he could see it. This had his stomach twisting still, a warmth now joining it which spread through his limbs and to his face.
For a moment, the two simply looked at one another.
She was still standing back from him, but not in fear or reservation as before.
Rather, it felt as if she was nervous. A curious smile on her lips, those big eyes looking at him from top to tail, Hudson felt a sudden desire to stand taller as if wanting to impress her.
More than that, he did not want this night to end.
Never before had he enjoyed the company of another as he did with her, and the thought of this evening ending so suddenly.
..well, it upset him. This feeling, however, confused him to no end, which had him then wishing for it to end so he could get better control of himself.
“Goodnight,” he said quickly, not certain why he was feeling so flushed, but sensing well enough it had to do with Florentia.
“Yes, goodnight...” She hesitated a moment, looked him over again, and then turned to leave the room, only to pause, consider something, and turn back. “There is one more thing I would like to ask.”
“Oh?” His heart began to race as he suddenly realized where he was...where they were. Surely, she is not going to ask that of me again? Not now? Not after a single night? Would she be so foolish as to do such a thing?
“Forgive me,” she began, which had the duke swallowing. “And please, tell me if I have overstepped...” He felt his hackles rise, not wishing to argue but knowing that he would if need be. “...but after you left, I could not help but read the letter that your stepmother sent you.”
“Oh...” he breathed a sigh of relief. “That is all.”
“You are not angry?”
He blinked as he tried to remember what the letter pertained to. He had been so angry that he’d forgotten it entirely. “I...I confess, I do not remember what she was saying. Nothing good, is my guess.”
“That depends on how you look at it,” she said. “She was reminding you of the Turncott ball next week, asking if you and I would be attending...”
He scoffed. “I bet she was.”
It took him a moment to understand what she was suggesting. The way she looked at him. The hope in her eyes. Not pushing the matter. Not being persistent. Simply opening herself to the idea, while making sure he understood where her mind was at. Really, it was rather well done.
“Oh!” His eyes went wide. “You wish to...you and I...if we might—”
“We do not have to,” she said quickly. “I just thought it might be...fun.” She chuckled softly. “You have heard of the notion, have you not?”
He looked at her flatly. “I am aware of the concept, yes. But a ball...” He grimaced. “They are not exactly my thing.”
“Nor was marriage, until it suddenly was.”
“Very apt of you.” He said dryly.
She shrugged. “Unless I am getting ahead of myself, concerning the ball. I do that sometimes.”
Ordinarily, Hudson would dismiss the notion out of hand and without thought.
He hated balls. He hated socializing. He hated large crowds in which he always found himself the center because, as a duke, eyes tended to follow him wherever he went.
No, he did not wish to go, and that was the end of the matter.
However, before he had a chance to say any of this, he found himself studying his wife again.
Her eyes, big and blue and innocent. Her lips, soft and supple and wearing a gorgeous smile.
Her presence, one which he felt comfortable in like he rarely did with anyone.
To say no to her would undoubtedly upset her, and where he knew he should not care. ..for some reason, he did.
“I will tell you what,” he began carefully. “Let us discuss it on the morrow. We have all week to decide, and if we can somehow get through it without wishing to see the other one dead, then who knows.”
“Was that another joke, Your Grace?”
“No joke,” he said. “Well, the seeing one another dead part was, obviously. What I meant was—”
“I know it,” she laughed. “I am just teasing you.”
“Oh...” He found himself smiling. “Yes, I probably should have guessed that.”
“Tomorrow then,” she said. “I will see you in the morning.”
“That you shall.”
She held her smile on him for a moment; it reached her eyes and pierced through Hudson’s chest. Then she turned and swayed from the room, making sure to close the door softly behind her.
Once he was alone, Hudson let out a deep breath, his heart racing, his body running hot, his limbs tingling. In the past he had equated such feelings with anger and venomous rage. But in this instance, he felt none of that. Happiness, it was. A sense of joy that was alien to him.
As to whether this was a feeling to celebrate or not? That remains to be seen.