Chapter 10
Ten
Margot did not go for a ride the following morning, even though she wanted to.
For some reason, doing as Sebastian had suggested felt like a betrayal of herself – as if she was giving him some sort of victory.
It was stupid, she knew, and it only further strengthened the grip he seemed to have on her.
I should not care what he thinks. Dammit, I should not think about him at all.
Determined to put the duke out of her mind, Margot decided that she needed a task to distract herself with. She contemplated deeply as she broke her fast, deciding toward the end that the day would be spent not exploring the manor but bringing life into it.
It was the previous day when she’d walked the halls that she’d realized just how empty this home seemed.
Even with the dozens of staff who roamed the interior and busied themselves with work, there was a sense that the large manor was abandoned, lived in by ghosts even.
And this had everything to do with how closed off it was.
Thus, she got about opening the many closed doors, throwing back the curtains in each room, and filling the manor with so much-needed light.
Most of the rooms were merely bedrooms, covered in dust, looking as if they had not been lived in for decades.
But she also found a music room with its own pianoforte.
She found a small studio with an easel and paints.
And there was a large library that, like the rest of the house, looked to have not been entered in longer than she’d been alive.
What does the duke do with himself? I knew him to be a loner, but it is as if even he does not want to live here. She chalked it up to his rakish ways, assuming that was how he entertained himself. But she sensed, too, that there was more to him than even she could guess.
That day, Margot must have opened well over two-dozen doors. And she had surely stalked every corner of the manor. But still, there was an hour or so before supper, which had her thinking about what to do next. That was when she found herself in a bedroom that looked to be used for storage.
It was a mass of wooden crates and various pieces of furniture covered in moldy blankets.
Various pieces of art were hung on the walls and laid across the tabletops.
Some of it was very beautiful, deserving of display, which again had her wondering why it had been stuffed away in this room so that nobody would ever see it.
This room feels different from the others. It feels… hidden, as if on purpose.
There was a beautiful vase of blue porcelain and golden embroidery sitting alone on a stool close to the door.
The sun was just now setting, casting the room in shades of dark purple and darker orange, and it reflected off that vase as if a light was shining on it.
Frowning to herself, Margot approached the vase and picked it up.
She found herself staring at the vase, turning it over in her hand, deciding that such a piece as this needed to be used to effect. Yes, tomorrow I will pick some flowers and put this to good use…
“Looking for something?”
“Oh!” Margot cried out, very nearly dropping the vase as she did. She held onto it, luckily, snatching it into her chest as she caught her breath and glared daggers at Sebastian. “What are you doing?!”
He was grinning with glee. “I could ask you the same question. Although snooping seems as good a guess as any.”
“I was not snooping…” She tried to calm her breathing, feeling awkward now at having been snuck up upon. “I was just…”
“Perhaps we should go exploring?” Sebastian was standing by the open door, leaning against the frame. He did not make the entrance, however. “You have been rather busy with it today.”
“What do you mean?”
“How many rooms is it that you’ve inspected? My count was at least fifteen.”
“Have you…” She reared back and furrowed her brow. “Have you been spying on me?”
The duke’s eyes widened, realizing that he’d be caught out. “No,” he hurried to say. “Not spying.”
“You have been,” she accused him, sharing now a smile of her own. “You’ve been watching me…” She then cocked an eyebrow at him. “Very creepy of you, if I do say so myself.”
“Merely checking that you didn’t become lost,” he shot back. “You said yourself this house is larger than you expected. I would hate for you to have wandered down a hallway, never to return.”
“What’s the matter? Worried for me?”
He rolled his eyes. “I am sorry that I bothered.”
It was no big thing, and even though he tried to dismiss her accusations, Margot could sense that she had hit the mark. At the very least, he was curious about me. His efforts to avoid me as if he did not care suddenly seem far more forced and purposeful.
“What is this place?” she asked, indicating the room.
“I believe the layman's term is a storage room.”
She looked at him flatly. “Thank you so much for explaining that to me.” He laughed, and she shook her head, smiling as she did.
“My meaning is, why this room? And why this…” She gestured to the vase still clutched to her chest. “There are some rather nice pieces of artwork here. It seems a shame to hide them away.”
“Oh…” He bit his lip, appearing suddenly nervous. “Yes, well, this room…” He grimaced then, still standing by the doorway as if afraid to enter. “Most of the things you’ll find in here belonged to my mother.”
“Your mother?”
“Yes, she who birthed me.”
Again, her face fell. “I was not asking what a mother was. Why are her things in storage? This vase…” She held the vase out. “It is beautiful, no? Surely she would have preferred it to be on display somewhere, rather than locked away in a random storage room.”
It was subtle, but Margot could tell that she’d touched upon a prickly topic. The duke’s brow furrowed, and he winced as if with guilt. Then he looked down at his feet, his confidence vanishing in a way she had never seen before.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, taking a step toward him. “I did not mean to –”
“It is fine,” he cut her off and stepped back.
“I just…” He shrugged and forced a smile, feigning confidence now because he clearly did not wish to appear weak.
“I just never had much of an eye for art. So, rather than wasting time pretending, I figured it would be easier to stuff it all in here. Save me embarrassing myself,” he added with a hollow chuckle.
There it is… the other side to him. He works so hard to portray an air of arrogance and confidence, but there is another side to him. Not that he looks willing to talk about it.
“Do you mind if I…” she gestured to the vase again. “This vase, it would look lovely with flowers in it. Perhaps in my room.”
His expression hardened, and she thought he was going to say no. But it vanished quickly, and the smile he offered instead was genuine. “Of course. I told you, this house is now your home, so feel free to do with it what you wish.”
“Thank you.”
He nodded once. “Don’t mention it.”
The duke did not turn and leave right away.
He stayed leaning against the doorway, watching her with a curious expression that she could not discern.
What she could tell, however, was that it wasn’t his usual visage of charm and arrogant confidence, used when he was trying to seduce and destroy.
Rather, there was an honesty behind his eyes, as if he was seeing her in a different light.
It made Margot fidget nervously, feeling exposed in a way she hadn’t expected. For that reason, she turned back, thinking to put the vase down, only for it to suddenly slip from her hand and crash onto the floor.
“No!” she cried as the porcelain smashed against the wood. “Oh! What have I—” Not thinking, she dropped to her knees to try and clean the mess.
“Wait!” Sebastian cried out, but it was too late.
Margot, feeling as embarrassed as she ever had, was not paying attention as she snatched at a sharp piece of porcelain. Her fingers grazed the edges, the sharp shard sliced along her finger, a bolt of pain ripped across her hand, and blood was quick to gush from the wound.
“Ow!” she yelped and fell back.
“Margot!” The duke acted quickly, dashing into the room and dropping to his knees beside her. Then, without question or hesitation, he took her hand and cupped it gently. “Easy now…”
She winced at the sight of blood. And she tried to pull her hand back on instinct, but he held on tight. His brow was furrowed as he studied the wound, and he expertly pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and began to dab softly around the wound.
He said nothing as he worked, fixed on what he was doing.
And Margot, thinking that pain was what she would feel, felt nothing but a warmth spreading from where the duke held her hand and rushing up her arm and across her body.
Tingles too, prickling across her skin, stabbing at her heart so that her body began to shake.
“I… I am sorry,” she said to break the silence.
“You did nothing wrong.” Tenderly, he wrapped the finger with his handkerchief. “Although you might owe me a new handkerchief. Kidding,” he then said with a smile.
Her smile was awkward, unable to concentrate because the duke still held her hand, wrapping it in both of his, pressing the handkerchief into the wound with such care that she could not feel the cut at all.
All she could feel was the racing of her heart and the pressure forming on her chest, which was suffocating.
“You’re lucky,” he said, still holding her hand, looking into her eyes now. “The wound was not deep.”
“But there was so much blood.”
He laughed softly. ‘Keep this wrapped around it, and I doubt it will require any stitches.”
“Tha – thank you,” she stammered, unable to look at him. She felt her cheeks flush and was mortified by what the duke might see in them.
“No need to thank me,” he said. “Although I do feel somewhat bad for you.”
“W – why?”
“The vase,” he said with a joking smile. “It might be a bit difficult to use it now that it’s smashed into a dozen pieces.”
She snorted with laughter, feeling the pressure leave her chest and the tension melt between them.
A good thing too, because in that moment, Margot had felt something pass between her and the duke that went beyond their usual antipathy and bickering and transcended the heights of mere attraction.
As strange as it was to think… it felt just then as if he cared for me.
Margot was quick to rush from the room after that, citing the need to wash her finger and change for supper, needing to put some distance between herself and the duke before she did or said something she would regret.
Minutes later, she found herself in her room, standing before the mirror, staring at herself as if she was trying to scold her reflection for the way she had acted.
Her heart still raced. Her breathing was still heavy.
And whenever she thought of the duke’s touch, it sent a tingle through her limbs and down her body.
As to what that might mean? Margot tried to convince herself she did not know and did not want to know. Deep down, however, there was certainly a part of her that was excited to find out. Perhaps a little too excited to be perfectly honest.