Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
“ S he is trying to kill me,” Dorian said out loud to himself as he stared at the new curtains his wife had installed in his study while he’d been out the other day. They were light blue in color, not at all to his taste. In fact, the way she had redecorated the entire castle was not to his taste. Not that he really cared one way or another; but it had driven him crazy to see her doing whatever she wanted with his home without even asking him.
Not that you made that possible for her to do , he reminded himself.
Anyway, it wasn’t the redecorating that was driving him crazy. It wasn’t even the incessant and terrible violin playing that made him want to grab her by the shoulders and shake her. It wasn’t her mischievous little ways that she was trying to irritate him--like spending a small fortune on a couple of dresses!
He knew that none of these were the real problem, but that he was choosing to be irritated by them because it was easier than admitting that being in such close proximity to Leah, and not being able to speak to her, to laugh with her, to touch her, was driving him out of his mind.
Everywhere he went in the house, he could smell her. Her perfume clung to every surface, and every time he inhaled a whiff of the delicate, feminine smell—vanilla and lilac, elegant and feminine with an unexpected touch of sweetness— he felt his heart begin to race and his palms begin to sweat.
The smell was intoxicating. It made him want to bury his face in her neck and breathe in, to let her scent wash over him and consume him. But of course, he couldn’t. Nor did it help that she was always humming everywhere she went, her voice soft and low, the most beautiful sound he had ever heard in his life.
But he couldn’t let it get to him. He couldn’t give in. Soon, she would lose interest, she would accept the reality of their new life together, and then she would be safe from him forever.
Sighing, Dorian glanced up at the portrait above his desk. His father’s face glared back down at him. Except… was he glaring today? The portrait always filled Dorian with a deep feeling of hate, and today was no exception, but for the first time in a long time, he also sensed a smugness to his father’s expression, as if the man were gloating about something.
Turning away, Dorian reached for the whiskey on his desk and poured himself a glass.
He’s not gloating. He’s just an evil bastard, he told himself.
But for the first time, Dorian wondered if, by ensuring Dorian could not enjoy a happy marriage, his father had, in fact, won. Maybe that was what was making him look so smug.
Dorian glanced out the window again, and his heart seemed to stop. In the distance, he could see Leah standing on the edge of the river. She was leaning over it, and although he couldn’t make out the look on her face, he had a very bad feeling that he knew the despair that would be on it.
No! Not her!
But as he watched, Leah fell forward, into the depths of the river.
Dorian was on his feet in a second. His heart was in his throat. I have driven her to end her life with my coldness! Guilt flooded him, but he didn’t have time to linger too long in that feeling. He had to save his wife.
Dorian hurtled across his study, wrenched open the door, and sprang out into the hall. He ran as fast as he possibly could across to the door, flung it open, and then sprinted out into the cool autumn day. His legs were carrying him as fast as they possibly could. They were beginning to burn, but he didn’t care. He was not capable of rational thought. All he could think were the same words, repeated over and over again in his head: Not her! Please! Not her!
And then a few more: please let me arrive in time to save her.
It felt like ages until he reached the river, but in reality, it couldn’t have been more than a minute or two. Still enough time for a person to drown, though.
He skidded to a stop at the riverbank, right where he had seen Leah fall in. Turning wildly, he stared down into the murky depths. She wasn’t there. He scanned further down, and his heart leapt. There she is! She had gone several feet, and she was underwater, her head completely submerged. She seemed to be struggling, and this gave him hope at least: even if she had wanted to end her life, there was still some fight in her; perhaps the closeness to death had brought back her will to live.
“Leah!” He shouted. “Leah, I’m coming!”
He jumped into the water, the cold immediately hitting him with the force of a speeding carriage. His breath caught in his throat, but he ignored this--all that mattered was getting to Leah. Dorian was a strong swimmer; in his travels he had spent months by the sea and been able to practice in the strong ocean currents. His strength surged, and he was able to reach Leah in a matter of moments. Grabbing her around the waste, he seized her and pulled her up out of the water.
“What are you doing?” she shouted, gasping as he forced her head above water. She struggled in his arms, and it took him several confused seconds to realize that she was trying to fight him off. “Let me go!” She shouted. “Have you completely lost your mind?”
“Leah, I saved you!” He shouted, dumbly, as he stood in the shallow river, his arms around his wife’s waste as she kicked at him to let her go.
“Saved me? What are you talking about? Let go of me!”
He released her, but only once he was sure she would be able to stand up on her feet, then turned her by the shoulders to face him.
Leah was soaked all the way through. She was in her undergarments, and as his eyes swept over her, he felt himself starting to redden. The wet clothes had become almost see-through, and he could see far too much of her.
He quickly averted his gaze, looking instead at her face, which was furious.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, putting her hands on her hips.
“I--I was saving you,” Dorian stammered. To his surprise, she didn’t look as if she had almost just drowned. Her face wasn’t bloated with water and she wasn’t coughing up river water. She looked… fine. Perhaps a bit cold, but otherwise unharmed.
“Why would I need saving?” she asked, her eyes narrowing. “I was just going for a swim.”
“A swim?” he repeated, incredulous. “In this weather?”
“It’s warm today!” She gestured around her, and he glanced around as well. He didn’t agree it was warm , but it wasn’t raining, at the very least. Still…
“It’s autumn,” he said, frowning. “And anyway, duchesses don’t go swimming in rivers, even when it’s blazing hot out!”
“Oh really?” Leah’s expression was becoming more annoyed by the second. “I didn’t take you for the kind of duke who was a stickler for rules of propriety. I’d think you’d be encouraging me to go against the rules of Society. Oh wait… you don’t want anything to do with me at all. You want us to live our separate lives. Well, if that’s true, then it is none of your business if I decide to go swimming in rivers on my own estate.”
Dorian stared at her dumbly. Far from actually caring about whether or not she went against the rules of propriety, he still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact she hadn’t been trying to end her own life. That she had purposefully gone swimming in the chilly autumn weather…
At that very moment, she began to shiver, and she wrapped her arms around herself as she continued to glare at him.
“Well?” she demanded. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“You’re cold,” he grunted. “We need to get you inside or you will catch a cold.”
“I will not be ordered around by you!” she snapped. “You cannot have it both ways! You cannot tell me I am allowed to lead my own separate life and also order me about when it pleases you! I will make my own decisions, and right now--”
“Right now you are going to die of hypothermia or pneumonia if you don’t get inside!” Dorian snarled. He didn’t care if he was being ridiculous or demanding, if he was being overbearing and controlling. All he knew was that he needed to get her warmed up before she grew deathly ill. Already, her lips were beginning to grow blue, and she was starting to shiver more violently.
“This isn’t up for discussion!” He snapped, and then, before she could do anything to stop him, he seized her once again around the waist and hoisted her over his shoulder.
“Put me down!” She screamed, her arms and legs flailing wildly as she attempted to get him to release her. “Unhand me at once! I can walk myself back to the house! You have completely lost your mind!”
Dorian ignored her. Hoisting her higher, so that he had a better grip, he began to march back across the lawn toward the house, barely even hearing her as she screamed at him to let her down. She could be angry at him all she wanted later, once he was sure that she wasn’t going to die. For now, he was single-minded. He had to get her warm.
It did occur to him, as he entered the entrance hall, his wife still trying to kick him in the face, that she had, at last, succeeded in getting his attention.
Be careful what you wish for, he thought dryly. Be very careful what you wish for.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“There you go,” the Duke said as he plopped Leah down in an armchair right in front of the fire. Even though the warmth of the fire felt amazing, she still glared up at him, not ready to forgive the way he had seized her so unceremoniously and carried her back to the house.
Not ready to forgive anything, actually.
“You’re to stay here,” the Duke ordered, straightening up and giving her a stern look that made her feel like a child. “I don’t want you moving again until you’re warm. I’ll have the Cook bring some warm food for you as well.”
“You can’t order me around like this!” Leah said, standing up from the armchair and crossing her arms. She was completely drenched, and even though she wanted to move closer to the fire, she thought it was more important to make her point with the Duke. “Nor can you treat me like this!”
“Treat you like what?” he snarled, his face darkening at once. “I just saved your life!”
“I wasn’t drowning!” She shouted. “For the second time, I was swimming.”
And suddenly, she could hold back all her anger and grief no longer. Without thinking, she slammed her fists into the Duke’s chest, beating against it with all her might.
“You can’t treat me like this!” She shouted, her voice catching in her throat as tears burned in her eyes. “You ignore me for days, refusing to talk to me or answer my questions! You don’t speak to me before the wedding, going behind my back to propose to me through my brother ! And then, as if that weren’t enough, you ignore my wishes, drag me out of the river, and throw me over your shoulder like a barbarian!”
To her consternation, the Duke didn’t look remotely bothered by the fact she was hitting him as hard as she could across the chest. He calmly reached up, grabbed her by the wrists, and held her hands in mid-air between them. He was so strong that he had complete control over her; she couldn’t move her arms. It scared her a little, while at the same time, it made her heart race with a strange desire she’d never felt before.
“Let go of me!” She snarled, trying desperately to pull her hands away and failing.
His eyes glittered. “Not until you promise to stop hitting me.”
“Fine,” she spat. “I’ll stop hitting you. But only if you start speaking to me.”
The Duke’s eyes narrowed. For a moment, they glared at each other, neither willing to give an inch. At last, she let go of her wrists, and she slowly lowered them.
“You have been behaving like a scoundrel,” she said, tilting her chin up defiantly. “Ever since you showed up in my room that night before the wedding, you haven’t been yourself!”
“Or that is exactly myself,” he countered. “Didn’t everyone warn you that I am a rake?”
“A rake, not a cold, indifferent, cruel man! You remind me of my brother— how he used to be, before Emery changed him. That is not who you are!”
Darkness momentarily crossed the Duke’s face, and he scowled. “It is quite possible that you also do not know the real me,” he said.
“And it is also quite possible that you have changed your personality because you are so furious at me for entrapping you in this marriage!”
Leah’s voice broke on the words, but she knew she had to say them.
The Duke, however, looked surprised by them, and he blinked and took a step back. “I am not furious at you,” he said, his brow knitting together.
She spread her hands wide. “Then why are you so intent on making me miserable? I have been forced to conclude that you hate me for what I did to you!”
“I do not hate you,” the Duke said, and for a moment, it looked as if he were going to say something else--something actually kind. His lips parted, and a pained expression passed over his face. She held her breath, hoping, waiting, that he was about to tell her something that might actually clear up the doubts and fears inside of her. “I could never hate you,” he added, after a moment, and she felt something crack inside of her--maybe the ice that had started to accumulate around her heart. He sounded so vulnerable in that moment.
“Then why--” she began, but his expression changed at once, becoming hard and cold once more.
“Because this is the way things have to be! I am not interested in having a family, and you are. Which means that we need to spend as much time apart as possible and lead our separate lives.”
“But that’s another thing,” she cried desperately. “You knew how important it was to me to have a family! We discussed it, that night in the kitchen when you made me eggs. Why would you marry me if you knew that you didn’t want children?”
“Would you rather have had children with Lord Dubois?” he countered, and she scoffed.
“That is not the point,” she snapped. “The point is that you didn’t have to offer for me when you knew you were condemning me to a life without children!”
“Yes I did!” He shouted, so loudly that the candelabra on the closest end table rattled dangerously and almost fell. She glanced at it in alarm. It was lit. The last thing she needed was the Duke burning down his castle in anger.
She turned back to him. “No, you didn’t,” she said, with forced calm. “You could have let me become a spinster. You could have let me battle Lord Dubois. I am sure that I could have convinced someone to eventually marry me--someone who could have at least given me a family. But I was not your problem, as I made clear again and again.”
The Duke’s expression was frozen, and for a moment, she thought he had once more become the icy, distant person he had been for the last few days.
But then something seemed to break inside of him--or to melt--and his eyes blazed. Then he seized the sides of her arms with both his hands, drawing her closer to him. For one wild moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, he glared down into her eyes, and she saw a wildness in them that she had never seen before.
“I spoke to Lord Dubois,” he said, his voice low and deadly. It sent shivers through her.
“What?” she whispered. “When?”
“The night I came to your room. He showed up at my club and threatened the men there, including Lord Eaton. He told them that you were his and that he would fight anyone who tried to take you from him.”
“What?” S he gazed at him in horror. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”
“Because there was nothing you could do about it,” he said, snorting derisively. His fingers were still digging into her arms, but she didn’t feel any pain. Not when he was this close to her, his lips just inches from hers, his eyes boring into hers as if he could see all the way through to her soul.
“I still had a right to know,” she murmured.
The Duke didn’t seem to be listening. “I followed him,” he said, a faraway look in his eyes. “I followed him to a drinking den, where I was able to convince him I was on his side. The things he said about you, Leah…”
It was the first time had used her first name without the title, and she shivered again. The way he said her name made it sound like a whispered promise, or a vow.
“That man would have done anything to make you his wife,” he continued, anger flashing in his eyes. “He is a sick, twisted man. I couldn’t let him anywhere near you. I couldn’t let him try and--”
He broke off, and at the same time, released her suddenly. She fell back, nearly losing her balance without him holding her upright anymore, but was able to steady herself. Now that his hands were gone, she felt the pain in her arms where he’d been gripping her. She hugged herself, rubbing the spots in her skin where he had held her.
The Duke, meanwhile, was breathing heavily, his back slightly turned to her, as if he were trying to calm himself. When he looked back at her, the darkness in his eyes was enough to scare her.
“You and your brother underestimated him,” he said in a low growl. “But after I spoke to him, I realized he was not to be underestimated. And that’s why I did what I had to do. No matter the consequences of my marrying you, it was better than the alternative. He could not have you. I could not let him.”
“Why?” Leah whispered. “Why did it have to be you?”
The darkness glowed in his eyes, and he took a step toward her. Even though she knew he would never hurt her, she still shrank back. There was such an intense force coming off of him that it frightened her.
“Because you’re mine,” he snarled, and all the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. “Even in this sham of a marriage, you are still mine to protect! And I will not let any other man claim you, especially one as unworthy as Lord Dubois.”
Leah felt as if someone had doused her in cold water--and not the cold water she had just been swimming in. Every hair on her body had stood up. Her heart was hammering. There was a tightness in her stomach that felt strangely forbidden and mysterious.
He called me his. He said I am his to protect.
Why did that make her want to throw herself at him, surrender to him, and feel his strong arms around her? Why, when she was still so angry at him?
Her lips parted as she gazed at him in shock, and he drew himself up, the cold superiority coming back into his gaze.
“Now sit down,” he commanded, and his tone brooked no opposition. “Sit down, get warm, and don’t go jumping into any more rivers! Even if it isn’t too cold today, the undercurrent is very powerful and with your dress, it could have water-logged you and pulled you under, making it very hard for you to escape. Speaking of which, we better get you out of that dress right away, before you catch your death.”
His eyes swept over her once more, and she felt suddenly self-conscious. She hadn’t realized how entirely exposed she was with her wet undergarments sticking to her. She folded her arms in front of her again, embarrassment tingeing her cheeks red.
A small smile licked up the side of his mouth as he saw her try to cover herself.
“Don’t worry,” he cooed, his voice as soft as velvet. “Nothing I haven’t seen before. I’m a rake, remember?”
And with that, he turned and strode out of the room. As the door slammed shut, he heard him shouting for more firewood to be brought to the parlor, as well as hot tea, food and a change of clothes for the duchess.
Leah, meanwhile, continued to stare at the closed door, her mouth agape. She had never felt so confused in her life. On the one hand, he seemed to want nothing to do with her. On the other hand, he considered her his. She had no idea what to think or feel. All she knew was that every time she remembered his words, she felt as if her whole body was melting.
And that didn’t bode well for a marriage that was supposed to remain chaste and affectionless.