Chapter 16 #3
The Duke turned to her and took her hands in his. “Are you well, Cecily? Did he hurt you? I saw you leave the room and thought I had better follow in case something like this happened.”
Cecily squeezed her eyes shut and nodded.
The temptation to throw herself into his arms and weep against his chest was strong.
The Duke might have saved her, but that did not mean he would sympathize if she let herself shatter to pieces.
As he had said, he hated bullies. Likely, he would have done the same thing for any woman manhandled under his roof.
“I am well,” she made herself say after a few more seconds of internal wrestling, opening her eyes and plastering a smile on her face. “Thank you for standing up for me. I appreciate it.”
The Duke frowned, as though something she had said bothered him. “Cecily—”
“We should go back before we are missed,” she cut him off brightly, hoping that he would not argue since she was still very close to bursting into tears and losing all control. “Now that my uncle is gone, there can be a proper celebration. We should spend some time with Lilian, too.”
“As you wish,” he said slowly and offered his arm.
* * *
Nathaniel yawned and set out the billiard balls on the table again. He was glad that his wedding day was over with very little trouble, aside from the minor incident with that drunken sot of an uncle.
Lord Holt had been dealt with easily enough. Men cowardly enough to beat women usually did shrink from confrontation with other men. Nathaniel would not have given him another thought if it had not been for the effect of the confrontation on his new wife.
She had been hurt and frightened by her uncle, but she remained defiant, once again impressing Nathaniel with her bravery. It troubled him that she had tried so hard to hide her feelings after the incident.
Why was she reluctant to confide in him or to let him comfort her? Did she not trust him? Was she so used to hiding her pain and fear that she knew no other way? Or did she fear him, just as she feared her uncle?
The latter was not a pleasant thought. While in his fantasies of the wedding night, Cecily was sometimes nervously endearing, she had always been willing and never truly afraid of him. The fantasy now felt far away.
“Mrs. Barnes wants to know whether dinner should be served, Your Grace,” a young footman said, knocking and stepping into the room. “She said that the kitchens can prepare a full meal, a cold selection, or something lighter.”
“Not for me, but it is possible that others may want to eat,” Nathaniel answered shortly, still full from the meat, pies, and cakes served at the wedding breakfast. “Patrick and Miss Mary may wish to eat, and my wife. My cousin and her family have returned to Richmond.”
“Her Grace is asleep, Your Grace,” the footman informed him. “As is Miss Holt.”
“Asleep?” Nathaniel queried, putting down his billiard cue. “It is barely seven o’clock. Are you sure they’re asleep?”
“Yes, Your Grace. In the yellow drawing room.”
Puzzled, Nathaniel left the game room and moved to the yellow drawing room, quietly opening the door and peering inside.
His new bride and her younger sister were both asleep on a sofa, their heads resting together and their faces in peaceful repose.
The different shades of gold and bronze in their hair mixed as their hands intertwined.
For a few moments, Nathaniel stood there and watched Miss Holt’s steady breathing. But she was no longer Miss Holt, was she? Mary was Miss Holt now. Cecily was the Duchess of Greyhaven and his wife.
That mental correction only heated his blood and sharpened his interest, tempting him to wake her and instruct her to join him upstairs.
Then it occurred to him that Cecily might not have slept well the night before their wedding and could also be exhausted after the confrontation with Lord Holt.
Nathaniel wished again that she had shared her thoughts and feelings with him earlier. Instead, she had spent most of the afternoon with Lilian and Mary, sometimes with Patrick too. Meanwhile, he had been left outside, watching, wondering, waiting.
With effort, he fought the urge to touch her cheek. No, it was best that she spend the night here with her sister.
Above all else, Nathaniel sought a simple and independent life where he could keep his own rules and set his own course.
Physical desire was healthy in a man, but it made him uneasy to find himself longing to know a woman’s mind and heart as much as her body.
This was surely not compatible with the independence he prized.
“Fetch a blanket,” he said quietly to the footman who had followed him to the room. “Then, close the curtains. We will leave them to sleep.”
When the footman returned, Nathaniel took the soft, thick cotton blanket and draped it carefully over the sleeping sisters. There would be no passion-filled wedding night for him tonight. Still, some things were better to wait for.
“Pull yourself together, man,” he muttered to himself as he returned to the game room.