Chapter 8
One Week Later
‘Itried to tell you the truth. Perhaps if you had listened, none of this would have happened.’
The Duke’s words had played over and over in Elara’s head every minute of every day leading up to the present moment. Even now, as she sat next to her husband at their wedding breakfast, Elara felt as if she were in some sort of strange bubble, standing apart from reality.
Even as she had stood before the Duke and the priest in her family’s parlor and taken her wedding vows. Even as Caroline and Bridget had tried to lift her spirits the night before, none of it truly seemed real. Yet it was.
She was now married to a man she despised. To a man who might have hurt Evander. And it was all her fault.
Adrian had tried to take the blame, saying that he should have been a better brother. But Elara could not let him think that. As much as she hated it, her new husband was right. She should never have locked that door.
How stupid! I was caught up in my own trap.
Elara looked up, taking in the parlor that Nora and Bridget had decorated with bright flowers and wide, elegant silk ribbons. She glanced at the spot by the hearth where she had just been married to Constantine, then at the two other tables set just beyond for their guests.
The list had been small. Bridget, Adrian, and Nora, of course.
Caroline had come as well, and to Nora’s surprise, even her step-aunt and cousin had made an appearance for the ceremony, though they left right after.
Damien, Adrian’s best friend, had come as well and had stayed close to his side except for when Adrian brought Elara to Constantine before the priest.
Elara had known Damien her entire life, and they loved each other like siblings—yet she was certain, as she watched her brother talk with Damien, that he was not there to attend her wedding, but to ensure Adrian did not lose his temper and attack her new husband.
The very thought made Elara’s stomach churn, and she turned her gaze away from the table of people she knew to the one she did not.
In one seat was the priest who married them.
In the next was the Mason family’s solicitor.
In the third was Constantine’s solicitor.
The two solicitors, along with Constantine and Adrian, had disappeared for nearly half an hour into Adrian’s study before the wedding started, and when they all returned, none looked too happy.
“You should eat something,” the Duke’s deep voice drew Elara from her shocked state, and she slowly turned her head to look at him. He kept his eyes on his plate as he cut a sausage into small pieces.
“I beg your pardon?” she rasped.
“I said you should eat something,” the Duke repeated in a calm tone. “You look as if you are about to faint.”
“Forgive my appearance,” she replied bitterly. “I have not had much of an appetite as of late.”
He then used his knife to scoop the cut-up sausage onto his fork and moved it to her empty plate.
“I am not hungry,” she whispered, looking down at the food before her.
To her surprise, Constantine speared one of the small pieces of sausage with his fork and held it up to her lips.
“I know you are not happy about this,” he said with a sigh of exhaustion. “I cannot say I am thrilled myself. However, you are my responsibility now, and I cannot and will not allow you to starve or faint. Eat. Now.”
Elara’s cheeks flushed with color as something other than sadness finally burned in her veins.
She lifted her eyes to his, ready to glare at him in protest. But as she took in his green eyes, she saw the calm determination there.
As much as she hated it, she knew he was right and that he most certainly was not going to put his fork down until she took a bite.
Instead of opening her mouth for him, she plucked the sausage from the prongs of the fork and shoved it into her mouth. She expected him to immediately chastise her for her lack of proper etiquette, but instead, he smirked and even let out a gruff chuckle.
She glared at him, but the small bite of food was enough to make her stomach roar for more.
She picked up her own fork and began to eat what he had put on her plate.
Just as she stabbed the last bite of sausage, though, a spoonful of scrambled eggs appeared from him.
Again, she glared at him, but again she stabbed the eggs and ate them, feeling better with every bite.
After the eggs, there were assorted fruits: melon, grapes, and strawberries.
Then strips of poached fish. Then small squares of cake until her stomach was full for the first time in a week.
“Better?” the Duke murmured to her after she set her knife and fork on her plate, signaling she was done.
Elara nodded but did not look at him.
“You do not have to be happy about this marriage,” the Duke said quietly. “But you do have to take care of yourself. I will not have you skipping meals again.”
Alarmed at his demand, her eyes shot up to his.
“You cannot control such a thing,” she insisted.
Constantine only smirked.
“Oh, I have my ways. You would be surprised at what sort of control I can have over others,” Constantine replied.
Elara shifted in discomfort as she took in her new husband, wondering just what sort of man she had attached herself to.
“Elara, darling, might I steal you away from your husband for a moment?” Relief flooded Elara as she heard her mother’s voice.
“Of course you can, Mama,” Elara replied, wrenching her gaze away from her husband’s knowing look.
She rose from the table and followed Nora upstairs to her rooms. Alone, Nora began to wring her kerchief tightly.
“Is something the matter, Mama?” Elara asked, placing a hand gently over her mother’s.
Nora gave her a tentative smile and invited Elara to sit.
“I had planned... or rather, I had hoped this conversation would have gone differently. However, your engagement came and went so quickly that I only now realize we had yet to have it.”
Elara raised a curious brow. “What conversation, Mama?”
Nora let out a nervous laugh as she scratched her neck and smiled.
“Well, um, what... You see, um, now that you are married. Well, as you know, there are requirements of a wife. And those requirements begin tonight, especially.”
Elara’s lips lifted into a small, sad smile, and she patted her mother’s hand.
“You explained to me what happens between a husband and a wife a couple of years ago, Mama,” Elara said. “Before Evander... was gone, when we were preparing for my original debut.”
Nora let out another nervous laugh, but her shoulders relaxed slightly.
“Good,” she sighed. “That is good. I had forgotten about that, and I did not want you to be ill-prepared for what is to come this evening.”
The memory of her and the Duke’s kiss flashed hotly through Elara’s mind.
Instantly, her lips tingled, and her blood sizzled.
The surprise of it had shocked and enraged her, and she was not at all remorseful about biting him.
However… after the initial shock of the kiss, she had to admit it felt rather lovely.
Elara shook her head, hating how she had once again felt another shiver of pleasure from the experience, and gave her mother a determined look.
“I am not ill-prepared, Mama. I know what is expected of me,” Elara assured Nora. “However, it does not matter. I do not intend to allow the Duke of Ashworth to touch me, this evening or ever, for that matter.”
Nora’s brows furrowed in confusion.
“I do not understand you, daughter,” Nora confessed. “If you hate this man so, why did you lock yourself in Adrian’s study with him? Even you confessed that it was you who turned that key and sent him the invitation. Why go to such lengths if you cannot stand him?”
Elara pressed her lips together, knowing she had no choice but to go against Adrian’s wishes and tell her mother what she had been up to. They had tried to keep it quiet, but it was Elara’s own curiosity that had led to her current troubles.
“I was... I am sure that the Duke of Ashworth or his brother, Augustus, had something to do with Evander’s disappearance.
I am not sure Evander is really dead. I am actually convinced of the opposite lately,” Elara confessed.
She paused, waiting anxiously to see how her mother would react.
To her surprise, though, Nora only looked on at her calmly, albeit with a slight look of pity in her blue eyes.
“I see,” Nora said quietly. “And your determination to believe this is based on proof, I take it?”
Elara winced.
“Rumors, mostly,” she begrudgingly confessed. “And a note I found in the Duke’s residence.”
Nora sighed.
“I do not wish to know what you were doing at his residence unchaperoned, so I request that you not speak further on that,” she retorted, rubbing her temples.
Elara gave her mother a chagrined smile and nodded.
“However, darling, I do want to speak with you about this impulsive nature of yours,” Nora went on, folding her hands together on her lap.
She gave Elara a small smile. “You are so much like your father in that respect that it frightens me. He was that way, you know. The moment he had an idea, he rushed to prove it true, not thinking about the consequences. I loved that enthusiasm in him, and I love even more that I see it in you. However...”
“However?” Elara goaded after Nora fell silent.
“However,” Nora went on, “just because you are enthusiastic about a thought does not mean it is correct. Many times, much to our chagrin, an opinion we once thought true turns out to be false, leaving us not only with the woe of being wrong but also the responsibility of an apology. Proud people, like our family, often find both rather difficult.”
Elara looked at her mother quietly, not sure if she was offended by her mother’s words or impressed at how accurate they were.
“What are you saying, Mama?” Elara asked.
“I am saying to be careful and clever, my girl,” Nora replied.
“Treat your marriage as if it were a game of chess. Study your husband’s moves closely, and pay attention to which piece he is trying to protect most. If you do that, you will win every single match, and winners do not have to apologize. ”
Elara leaned forward, her curiosity piqued.
“Very well,” she agreed. “And how do I pay such attention? What if he does not allow me to be so close?”
“Well, he certainly will not if you refuse him on your wedding night,” Nora replied with a wry chuckle.
“Which is why I believe your plan to withhold from him is in poor taste. Men are simple creatures, you know. They bask in bodily pleasure and become weak and moldable. Instead of denying him, offer yourself to him often and whenever he wishes. Soon, he will allow you to do whatever you wish and tell you whatever secrets you want to hear.”
Elara’s eyes widened at her mother’s bold words, her cheeks burning scarlet.
“Mama, I really do not think—”
“Pardon me, ladies.”
Elara’s mortification reached a new level as the Duke’s deep voice filled the room.
She spun around to find him standing in the doorway, one broad shoulder leaning against the frame with the unhurried ease of a man who had heard precisely enough.
His green eyes moved from Nora to Elara.
Though his expression remained perfectly composed, there was an unmistakable gleam of amusement in his gaze that made her want to disappear into the floorboards.
Nora, for her part, looked completely unruffled. She folded her hands in her lap and smiled at him as serenely as if they were discussing the weather.
“Your Grace,” Nora greeted him pleasantly.
“I believe it is time we take our leave. I am quite certain Adrian is downstairs, contemplating whether to still attempt to duel with me or not.”
“Oh, posh,” Nora said, waving her hand in the air as she walked to her new son-in-law. “Ignore him. He is always most sour when things are out of his control.”
To Elara’s surprise, a small smile touched the Duke’s lips as he looked at her mother.
“And you, Your Grace? Are you sour about this situation?” he asked.
Elara looked from her husband to her mother, most curious about her answer.
“I am wary of this union,” Nora replied, her chin held high as she spoke the truth. “My daughter believes you have done something unfortunate to my Evander, and that gives me pause.”
Elara stopped breathing, unable to believe her mother was so blunt about it.
“However,” Nora went on, reaching out to stroke the Duke’s cheek in an intimate gesture. “I still believe you are the good boy both of my sons used to play with.”
A pained look filled Constantine’s eyes for the briefest of moments, then in the blink of an eye, his gaze was void of emotion all over again.
“That was a long time ago,” the Duke pointed out, gently removing Nora’s hand from his cheek. “We are not boys anymore.”
“People change,” Nora agreed. “Except at their most personal center, their core, where their soul is. I believe that is immutable. And at your core, no matter what has been said about you or what bad blood has occurred between you and my sons, I still believe you are good.”
Elara studied the Duke’s face closely as her mother walked out of the room. He looked a bit stunned, his brown brows furrowed into peaks, his green eyes fixed on the spot where his mother had stood.
“She is good at that,” Elara spoke up. “Catching people off their guard.”
He shifted out of his frozen state and blinked several times.
“Indeed,” he murmured, rubbing his cheek where Nora had touched him. He then flicked his gaze to her, and his green eyes hardened a little.
“Come along,” he urged, nodding toward the hallway. “I do not wish to be in here any longer.”
“So soon? The celebration has barely begun!”
“Neither of us wanted this marriage, so there is nothing for us to celebrate.”
Elara felt a lump form in her throat as she took a long look around her mother’s room. Homesickness already swirled in her stomach, and a bout of nervousness tingled up her arms.
“Will I be allowed to visit my family?” she asked, her tone suddenly shaky and sharp.
She turned back to the Duke and saw a hint of pity in his hard gaze.
“I am not a monster,” he said, his deep voice quiet. “I would not prohibit such a thing. However, we are married now. Whether we are joyful about that or not, my presence here is not welcome. We must go now.”
Elara swallowed her lump of tears as the Duke held out his hand. She took it, ignoring the way sparks tingled instantly into her palm at his touch, and let him lead her downstairs so she could say her goodbyes.