Chapter 7 #2
“And if you stopped being so stubborn and secretive about your past, then I would not have anything to argue with you about.”
He hadn’t expected that, and he blanched for a second, glaring at her. “Duchess.”
“Your Grace.”
“Heavens, have you always been this difficult?” he huffed, his frustration flaring. “Your sisters must have—”
“Do not speak about my sisters,” she snapped. “You do not know me, nor do you care to know me, so why should I bother to pretend to seek your company?”
“I know you do not trust me, but we can still dine together,” he bit out. “Yes, this marriage is purely business—”
“As you keep reminding me—”
“Do not interrupt me, Duchess.” His tone was clipped.
Gabriel was not accustomed to being spoken over or silenced like the night before or even ignored. It seemed his wife was intent on doing all of that.
“I understand that you wish to take care of your daughter and that you cannot bear to part from her, but no harm will come to her in this house. I will remind you a thousand times a day, if need be.”
“Multiple assurances are not necessary,” Sibyl told him. “I am comforted by being at her side, and that is none of your business.”
“It is when you constantly leave your husband to dine alone.”
Sibyl cocked her head, the slight arrogance looking out of place on her soft features, yet he was quite captivated by it. For a moment, his annoyance banked.
“Did you know that when Isabella married the Duke of Rochdale, he left her to dine in her room for days? She had to fight for his company.”
“What your sister and her husband did is none of my concern,” he stated. “I concern myself with us, and I am requesting that you join me for breakfast tomorrow. I have been informed that you have not even called for food to be brought up here.”
“Your Grace, it almost sounds like this is not about company at all, for I know you are used to dining alone. It rather sounds like you are concerned about my well-being.” Her tone turned a little sarcastic, and Gabriel fought the urge to grab her shoulders and shake sense into her.
“But I am fine. I will eat when I am hungry—”
The growling of her stomach cut her off, and her eyes widened.
Gabriel tilted his head, smirking. “It sounds as though you already are,” he drawled. “Come, Duchess. Eat something.”
“But my daughter—”
He had already stepped into the hallway, motioning for the nursemaid to go back to the nursery.
“Do hold Lady Rose for a while while the Duchess eats something,” he instructed.
Hannah nodded before eagerly reentering the nursery, her arms extended.
“I am fine,” Sibyl insisted, holding her baby to her chest.
What had made her so paranoid about leaving her child, even with her own nursemaid?
Gabriel understood how daunting caring for a baby could be, but had she always been so worried?
“I do not need to—”
“Yes, you do,” he interrupted. “Hannah?”
Hannah reached for Rosie again.
“Now you are the one being rude, Your Grace,” Sibyl snapped. “I will not bend to your whim just because you’re my husband.”
“No, Duchess. As your husband, I wish to make sure that you have actually eaten something in the last twenty-four hours. Follow me. Your nursemaid has been looking after Lady Rose for four months already.”
He could see how reluctant she still was, how she hesitated even as she battled with the truth.
“An hour,” he told her. “Give me one hour.”
Seconds ticked by before Sibyl finally nodded and handed Rosie to Hannah.
Gabriel took her hand, making sure she followed him. He didn’t put it past her to try to slip into her chambers on their way back to the staircase.
She started at his touch, but he didn’t drop her hand, and he most definitely didn’t think of how soft her skin was, how her palm fit so snugly against his.
He led her into the dining hall and pulled out the chair she had sat in the night prior. Sibyl dropped into it heavily, and he noticed how she swayed slightly.
Gabriel bit back a question as he sat adjacent to her. He told himself it was only so he could stop her in case she fled again, but part of him knew he wanted to be close to her.
He beckoned a footman over. “Please serve Her Grace a bowl of white soup, followed by the chicken fricassée. I do believe both dishes are her favorites.”
“Right away, Your Grace.” The footman bowed and retreated.
Gabriel kept his eyes on Sibyl, a knowing smile tugging at his lips when her stomach growled again, and her tongue poked out to wet her lips.
“You… chose well,” she muttered, averting her gaze.
“I could sense how hard it was for you to admit that.” He smiled wider.
“How did you find out about my preferences?”
Gabriel shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “In the days before our wedding, I visited your former housekeeper in Kerrington House. I also met with your parents’ housekeeper. I inquired about you lightly.”
“Lightly?” she echoed, her eyebrows rising in surprise. “How lightly?”
“Enough to arrange a selection of books by some of your favorite authors and know that reading is important to you. And enough to know that you used to write poetry.”
Sibyl blushed profusely. “It was a childhood thing.”
“Even your debut?” he prompted, knowing how smug he looked. “I have heard that your penchant for writing poetry continued up until your first marriage.”
“Are we pretending to get to know one another, Your Grace?” Sibyl challenged, and he realized he must have struck a nerve.
“Yes, I enjoy reading, but I have scarcely read anything in the past year. And yes, I used to write poetry, but I have found myself lacking inspiration lately. I used to write about a life that I foolishly did not know at the time would not come true. I was a misguided romantic, lost in delusions of what my future would be like, only to be very harshly hit with the reality that it was not how I envisioned at all.” Her tone was brittle, snappish, and angry.
Gabriel leaned back, his smile fading. “Duchess—”
“Do not sit there and pretend to know me, not when you refuse to ask me about myself. Yes, you have chosen the meals well, but you do not know me. I am not the person I once was.”
For a moment, Gabriel was at a loss for words, having not expected her outburst. Fatigue clouded her eyes, and her shoulders slumped.
“Forgive me,” he murmured. “I only wished to show you the lengths I went to to make sure you were as comfortable here as possible.”
Silence descended over them, and soon, Sibyl’s meal was served. The soup and fricassée came together, both placed before her. Gabriel heard her sniff before her stomach grumbled loudly.
She took a spoonful of soup, her eyes fluttering shut as she hummed in pleasure. He watched her enjoy the mouthful, and when her eyes opened, she blushed.
“You need sustenance just as much as your daughter,” he told her.
“If you do not sustain yourself, then you won’t be able to look after her the way you want to.
You cannot burn yourself out with sleepless nights and skipped meals.
If you do not wish to dine with me—even though I will insist you do—then at least allow me to send meals to your chambers. ”
Sibyl suddenly set down her spoon with a hard clatter, splashing soup on the table. He ground his teeth at the sight.
“I am fine,” she ground out.
“Duchess, you look exhausted,” he insisted, regarding her pale face intently. “Why are you not eating? Is this… a common occurrence?”
Her head jerked in his direction, her eyes narrowing to slits. “No, Your Grace, it is not. But when one is looking after a baby, time is scant and oftentimes lost. Sometimes, I simply forget. Other times, I am so focused on Rosie’s well-being that I cannot even think of my own. She is my world.”
Gabriel sighed, enduring her defensiveness. At least she had not risen from the table yet.
He wondered how much of that was because she really wanted to finish her meal and how much of it was because she was just too tired to move.
“Then I will leave you to enjoy your food,” he uttered, pushing to his feet.
“Wait,” she called. “Where are you going?”
He looked down at her, knowing that he had pushed her enough that evening, but she also needed to understand that they both had to learn to navigate this marriage.
“As you left me to dine alone, I ought to do the same.”
And then he walked out.
Even so, he later checked with the housekeeper to ensure that she had indeed finished her meal.