Chapter 6
It was later that same evening when Ophelia found herself outside the Duke’s office. She knew that was where he spent most of his time, just as she knew he was there right now. Not hiding, she told herself, as he was busy making arrangements for their wedding, but it sure felt as if he was.
I need to know what I am getting myself into. I need to know that this is my only option and that it won’t be the end of me…
With that in mind, Ophelia took in a deep breath, knocked once, and then popped the door open.
“Your Grace,” she said as she gently stepped inside. “Might we speak for a moment?”
Vermont Manor was as cold a home as Ophelia had ever been inside. A castle of gray and black, every room and every hallway carried with it a sense of dread that made her shiver even when bathed in sun. As was to be expected, the Duke's office was no exception.
It was large in size but cramped with shelves so it appeared much smaller.
There was no window to speak of, and the only light came from a single candle that sat on the edge of the Duke’s desk.
The light from that candle, while bright, struggled to reach the Duke as if even the light feared touching him.
He was a shadow in the darkness, hunched over the desk, monstrous and scary in a way that Ophelia guessed to be on purpose.
But he isn’t scary… not nearly as much as he wants us to believe.
Ophelia studied him as she stepped into the office. She found his face in the dark, as she found his blue eyes, and she did not see anger or wickedness in them..
“What is it?” he asked sharply. A quick glance up from his work and he looked back down. “I am rather busy, Ophelia. There is a lot to do.”
“This will only take a moment…” She edged further into the room, her body shaking, even if she was not afraid. It was just how dark the office was, a contrast to the light that she preferred.
He sighed and set down his quill, folded his hands, and looked at her. “Very well. Is something wrong?”
“Oh no, nothing like that.”
“Is it Harriet?”
“She is sleeping soundly.”
His brow furrowed. “What then?”
Ophelia smiled, although she could not say why. He was so determined to come across as grumpy that it almost felt forced. In fact, if she did not know any better, she might have guessed that he was trying to scare her away.
As he has scared away everyone else in his life…
“We are set to marry in two days…” Ophelia reached the desk but did not sit. Even standing, she was not much taller than the Duke. “And I have some questions that only you can answer.”
“Questions?”
“Yes, questions,” she laughed. “You have heard of such a thing?”
“I… what do you mean?”
She rolled her eyes but held her smile. “Never mind, I was only joking…” She laughed gently as she looked at him, wondering if he might do the same. Of course, he did no such thing. “My questions concern our marriage. The what of it. The how, if that makes sense.”
“It… no, it does not. Please, speak plainly.”
“You have told me that this will be a marriage of convenience, but you have not explained what that means exactly. I thought you might wish to clear the air a little more.” She made sure to keep her tone light as if to drag the Duke out of the darkness.
“What does it mean, convenience? Convenient for whom?”
His frown deepened. “It is a rather standard arrangement. Surely, you know others who have made a similar commitment.”
“Similar to where we find ourselves?” She laughed again. “I certainly do not.”
He continued to frown at her, apparently finding no humor in her comment.
She sighed. “What is expected of me, after we marry?”
“Expected? Nothing,” he said. “You know the reason for this marriage. To avert attention so that we are not spoken about or judged by our peers. Once we are married, you will live here as my wife, but in name only. This is not…” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “This is not a love match.”
“So…” Her cheeks colored slightly. “I am not expected to… you will not… an heir…” She looked away. “You will not require me to produce an heir.”
“Of course not,” he said a little too sharply. “I would never…” That time, it was the Duke who looked away. “Our focus will be finding Harriet’s true father. Until then, there is no need to discuss such things.”
It was silly to consider, but the Duke’s statement brought with it a pang of sadness that Ophelia could not explain.
She did not wish to have a child with the Duke, but now that she knew it would never happen, that she would not have one of her own…
So, that is it then; happiness won’t be found in this marriage or my life.
Even as that thought threatened to consume her, Ophelia pushed it away. She would not let sorrow break her, nor would she give up. That had never been her way and she wasn’t about to start now.
“What of the estate?” she asked, needing to change the topic. “Will I have any control or say in the way it is run?”
“Would you like that?”
“I…” She blinked. “I think so.”
“Then it is done,” he said. “This marriage is not a trap, Ophelia. I am not trying to take advantage of you. And while it might sound hard to believe, I do hope that you might be content with married life to me. Even…” He cleared his throat again. “Even happy.”
She smiled and was surprised to find that it was real. “I am sure I will be.”
“Is there anything else?”
There was so much more that Ophelia wanted to know, just as most of it would have to wait, because such things needed to be learned in real time.
But what she had found out from this small exchange was exactly what she needed to.
The Duke was not nearly so bad as he liked to pretend, and although they would not be falling in love, she knew too that she had nothing to fear from him.
Would she be happy, though? Was there even the slightest chance? Ophelia needed to believe it.
“No,” she said. “That is all. Thank you.”
“You are welcome.”
She smiled a final time and turned to leave…
“Wait,” he said sharply.
She froze and her eyes widened because his tone was urgent. “Wh… what is…” Slowly, she turned back, and her eyes widened further because he was on his feet and walking toward her. “What are you doing?”
“Your gown…” He walked toward her quickly; his eyes focused on the sleeve of her gown. “There is a loose thread.”
“There is?” She glanced at her sleeve and saw the thread. It was small, hardly noticeable, but the Duke could not break his gaze from it. “Oh, that is nothing.”
“It is not nothing.”
He was on her then, so quick and so close that she gasped and caught her breath.
Standing now, and less than a foot away, she had forgotten just how large he was, how powerful, and how intimidating.
She wanted to shy back, to turn and hurry from the room, but she was frozen to the spot… shaking… utterly at his mercy.
He bit into his lip as he reached for the thread. Despite his size, his movement was soft and graceful and delicate. His fingers pinched the thread, steadied, and then tore it free in a single movement.
Ophelia’s heart raced as she watched the Duke. His brow furrowed as he studied the thread… and then it narrowed further as his eyes drifted from the thread to her face.
They stood inches apart, so close that she felt his breath kissing her face.
His blue eyes, those sad and lonely eyes, drifted over her face and found her lips.
It was subtle, but a spark lit behind his eyes, a sense of…
she could not say. But he looked at her lips the same way that he had at that thread, as if something was out of place that needed to be fixed.
There was life in his eyes, unlike anything that she had seen from him before.
“Your Grace…” she uttered, her voice cracking. “What…”
Suddenly, his eyes widened as if only just realizing what he was doing. He turned away, stumbled back, and the moment broke.
“Sorry,” he said, unable to look at her. “I just… it is such a beautiful gown and…” He shook his head. “You should go.”
Ophelia did not argue.
She rushed from the room as if swept by a gale. And it was only once she was outside, the door closed firmly behind her, that she realized how quickly her heart thumped against her chest and how heavy her breathing was.
What on earth was that?
Ophelia could not say, nor did she want to consider it too closely. But as she made her way to her room, she could not help but picture the look in the Duke’s eyes as he found her lips, and a smile gently curved up her own face as she did.
A marriage of convenience, he claimed this would be. Somehow, she doubted that it would be nearly so convenient as either of them wanted.
Was that a bad thing? Was that something to worry about? Ophelia could not say for sure, but she was curious to find out. And that alone was a reason to smile.