Chapter 9
The wedding guests had left rather hurriedly after the meal, likely all reading into the awkwardness between a bride and groom who hardly knew one another within a room full of people who all questioned whether this had been the right choice.
Evelyn’s father had been the first to leave, after a particularly long farewell to the dowager duchess more than Evelyn. She tried to console herself by remembering that he was adjusting to the newness of the situation as well.
Verity had given her one more reminder that she was there to help in any way she could.
The only one who surprised Evelyn was, actually, Lord Julian.
He had bowed over her hand as he said his farewells before leaning in closer to her, his voice so low that it was nearly a murmur.
“He’ll warm up,” he said, for Evelyn’s ears alone. “He’s been so focused on being the duke that he’s forgotten to be himself. Perhaps you’ll help him find that man he used to be again.”
Before she could close her mouth and attempt to find appropriate words for a response, he had winked at her and slipped out the door.
Asher had been by her side in seconds.
“What did he say to you?” he demanded, and she frowned at his accusatory tone.
“Nothing.”
“He wasn’t flirting with you?”
She raised her brows at him. Was he jealous? No. Not jealous. He couldn’t be, for he felt nothing for her besides, at the best, some fondness. He had made that clear. She was sure that it had more to do with a man protecting what he owned, like she was a belonging.
“Don’t like to share your toys, Asher?” she said, unable to keep herself from making a saucy comment.
He frowned at her.
“You are my wife,” he said, his words clipped.
Whatever that meant.
She simply shrugged at him before turning away to make pleasantries with Lady Thalia, who was polite and said she was happy to have Evelyn in the house, but disappeared shortly after breakfast concluded.
Now, Evelyn was alone, moving through the public rooms of the ground floor of Asher’s grand London manor, exploring what was now her home.
She had been here before, but it had been years ago, when Asher’s parents had held events. From what Evelyn could recall, the duke and duchess had loved to host, which was made apparent by what she had seen from the dowager duchess this morning.
As she walked through the house, even though they had hosted only that morning, it already felt cavernous, hushed, almost watchful, her every footstep echoing.
Servants moved efficiently, quietly, as though trained not to intrude.
They never met her eye, even as she prepared to smile her welcome at them.
The silence felt heavier than the noise in this house, built to impress and designed for order.
She suddenly missed the clutter of her father’s study, the hum of debate between the two of them or the scholars he invited into his home, the sound of the pages turning.
Their townhouse was much smaller, of course, but every space was full, books nearly tumbling off the full shelves, half-used candles littering every corner of the room.
Evelyn had sometimes been bothered by how cluttered it had been, but suddenly she would give anything to have it back.
This house reminded her of the Asher she was most familiar with. The duke she had observed at events, the man he had been at the wedding breakfast. Controlled, distant, imposing.
But then she recalled how he had been in the carriage, and when they had danced — just the two of them. Then there had been the words from Lord Julian.
Perhaps that other side to her husband, the one that she actually rather enjoyed, could become more apparent.
Impulsively, she sought out the housekeeper, finally finding her below stairs in what Evelyn assumed was her office.
“Mrs. Jenkins?”
The woman jumped, her hand on her bosom as she turned, staring at Evelyn as though she had broken in.
“Your grace, what are you doing down here?” she said, looking around as though they were about to be caught.
“I came to speak to you,” Evelyn said, suddenly uncertain. She had always had conversations with their housekeeper in her office when she lived at her father’s townhouse. Was it different here? She forged on. “I would like to have dinner alone with my husband this evening.”
“Alone?” she repeated, blinking.
“Yes, perhaps in a private dining room or the breakfast room?”
“But the duchess— that is…”
Evelyn tilted her head, one eyebrow raised as she held her ground, reminding herself that she was the duchess. After a moment, she swallowed, hoping she retained her outward appearance of calm. If Evelyn had to adjust to this new life, so should everyone else.
“Very well,” the housekeeper said with a small, strained smile. “All will be arranged.”
Evelyn allowed the triumph to spread over her lips as she walked away.
She had done it.
Made one small step forward as the lady of the house. Perhaps this would come more naturally than she thought, after all.
Asher stared down at the note in front of him. It had been waiting when they arrived after the wedding earlier today.
When they had descended from the carriage, a footman had whispered in his ear that another note was waiting for him, one similar to the last. Asher had no choice but to face the overwhelming urge within him to open it immediately, although he hadn’t told Evelyn about it, not wanting to scare her on the first day of their marriage.
She had enough to worry about. Despite the brave front she wore, he could sense that she was struggling to come to terms with all that awaited her, all that was expected of her.
He had an innate need to soothe her, to protect her, to make this all better, but he was faced with a sense that he had already done all he could, which only made him feel all the more helpless.
Asher now reread the note, his face draining of color once more, just as it had the first time he had read it.
Marriage will not save you. Nor will it save her.
For some reason, the threat to Evelyn was more frightening than that to himself. Perhaps because he was now responsible for her — yet another responsibility, added to the many others in his life.
He sighed.
If anything happened to her, it would be all his fault. And yet… she wasn’t just an added annoyance of responsibility. A sense of protectiveness flowed through him every time he looked at her.
Even when Julian had leaned in and caused her to smile as he did with all of the ladies, Asher had been on edge, ready to storm over and tell his friend to give her space.
He supposed this was what came from marriage.
His head snapped up at a knock at the door, but it was only the butler.
“Your grace, it is nearly dinner. Your wife has requested that the two of you dine alone tonight.”
“Alone?” He furrowed his brow, unsure what his mother would say about that. But he had told Evelyn that the household was hers to command now, and, truthfully, the idea of being alone with her again was tempting.
Which was ridiculous. She was his wife now.
Yet, when he arrived at the entrance to the private dining room an hour later, finding her sitting there by herself in front of the elegantly laid table, his heart turned over in his chest in strange contortions.
The table was meant to seat a party, but she had arranged for them to sit in the middle of the table, across from one another – equals.
He kind of liked it.
“Good evening,” he said as he took his chair, wishing he had arrived first so that he could have helped her into hers.
“Good evening,” she replied, the attempted half-smile on her face reminding him of how she had appeared arriving at Ravenscar earlier in the day — like she was trying to appear confident but was much more uncertain.
“I’m sure dinner will be wonderful,” he said, wanting to break the silence but unsure of what else to say. “The staff always does a tremendous job.”
“They seem very… efficient,” she said, before taking a sip from her wine. “Well-trained.”
“My mother is very exact.”
“So it seems,” Evelyn said, looking to the side, and Asher was suddenly filled with some dread.
“Did she say anything to you?”
“Your mother?”
“Yes.”
“Actually… she has hardly said anything to me at all.”
That made sense. His mother hadn’t exactly been thrilled about this marriage, nor the rumors that had led to it. She was still sore about the deviation from her plan, but truthfully, Asher had met Lady Tottenham’s daughter, and neither of them had much interest in one another.
Tonight, he was aware of Evelyn. Of how small she looked at the long table. Of how carefully she chose her words, as though she didn’t want to speak anything that wasn’t true, but also didn’t want to offend him.
Those beautiful hazel-green eyes were all over the room, which he didn’t think was common for a normally serene woman like her.
She was currently watching his hand on his fork after the footmen served the first course, and now she was fixated on the space right between his brows, which he knew from catching glimpses of himself in the mirror was typically where his forehead creased when he was upset.
It reminded him that while she was his wife, she was also a stranger.
As his knife scraped across his plate, he flinched, for the silence had stretched for far too long now. Finally, after swallowing, Evelyn looked up at him and met his eyes.
“Has the house always felt like a mausoleum?”
He nearly choked on his wine. “Pardon me?”
“This house,” she said, waving around them at this small dining area, with walls that were nearly bare but for a few portraits.
“It is all very opulent. All of the gold and expensive, heavy, draperies and furnishings. If it were not for your ancestors on the wall, staring at me disapprovingly, I would wonder if this was a family home or a public museum. Actually, museums have much more personality.”
Suddenly, she stopped, rigidly holding her spine straight. “I am so sorry. That was uncalled for.”
Asher blinked, taken aback that she had insulted his family home so politely.
Then, unexpectedly, he found himself smiling, and after a moment, he tipped his head back and laughed, a true, belly laugh with humor unlike anything he’d felt in some time.
When he finally caught hold of himself, it was to find her staring at him, her eyes wide, filled with a spark of something dangerous.
“I know that is how it feels,” he finally said. “I have lived here my entire life.”
“Do you actually feel the same, or are you just trying to make me feel better?”
“I did not decorate this place, so it is no insult to me,” he said with a shrug, realizing that, for the first time in a long time, someone – besides Julian – was being honest with him, saw things in a similar regard to how he did. He smiled slightly at her, and the tension eased.
“I fear I may already have disappointed the house simply by existing within it,” Evelyn said, leaning toward him with a small smile, and Asher sensed that she was, perhaps, testing him to see how he would respond.
Asher shook his head. “Nonsense. It survived my childhood as well as my brother’s. You will not break it.”
He stiffened as he realized what he had said. It was the first time he had mentioned his brother in months. But Evelyn continued, making him feel that it was no mistake.
“I shall endeavor not to be more destructive than determined children.”
Despite his hesitation, Asher smiled slightly, wondering what Evelyn had been like as a child. “I would advise against underestimating yourself.”
Evelyn tilted her head to the side. “You speak differently when you forget to be careful.”
Asher looked up at her in surprise. “Do I?” he asked, his voice quiet.
She didn’t hide what she thought, and he liked it.
“Yes. Your voice softens. You sound less like a duke issuing decrees.”
“And more like what?”
“A man having a conversation.”
His gaze lingered on her before he responded.
He knew he had stared at her a moment too long when she questioned him on it.
“Is there something amiss?” she asked, blinking.
Asher blinked, startled out of his reverie. “No. Forgive me. I was… listening. Considering what you were saying.”
“If staring at me helps, then so be it,” she said, a small, uncertain smile on those beautiful, plush lips that were slightly stained red from her wine.
The atmosphere shifted as Evelyn hesitated, and Asher had the sense she wished to ask him something. “Go on,” he said. “Ask me.”
She cleared her throat. “Should we… discuss expectations?”
Asher immediately understood what she was referring to, the first night of their marriage. “We just met. I do not expect anything from you.”
“Will you…” She shifted in her seat. “Will you… seek companionship elsewhere?”
Her question made sense, especially upon the circumstances of their marriage. Before he had become duke, he hadn’t exactly been the most reserved of men and had enjoyed spending time with women who weren’t going to be interested in marriage.
But at the same time, he had always respected the idea of being true to his wife. IT was one of the reasons he had never wanted to be forced into anything.
She was looking down at her second course, and he couldn’t help himself. He needed to see her, to look her in the eyes when he said what he needed to.
He leaned over the table, reaching out to lift her chin with his index and middle fingers. He had imagined intimacy would be part of their marriage – until he had realized how much he actually liked Evelyn. To add physical touch might just be too much.
“Look at me,” he demanded, not continuing until those hazel eyes with the touch of green flecks were staring right at him expectantly. “I have no intention of seeking out anyone else. You are my wife, and I respect the vows we made.”
She licked her lips. “But what if—”
“If circumstances change — for either of us — we must discuss it honestly with one another. But until then, we remain faithful to each other. Do you understand?”
She nodded at him, holding his gaze, and his heart returned to its regular pattern.
Truthfully, he hadn’t considered this before now.
He knew plenty of marriages in which the husband and wife sought others outside the marriage bed.
But now that she was in front of him, he couldn’t imagine her being with another man.
The thought made him want to rage, even if it had not happened yet.
He also wondered if there was already more to his marriage than he had thought there would be.
The idea gave him unexpected excitement that he tried to dampen.
That it was even there was a surprise in itself.
But not an entirely unwelcome one.