Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Arabella lay awake, unable to find the sleep that she so desperately craved, when she heard it. It was the sound of the front door to the manor opening and slamming closed just as quickly. Then, heavy footsteps, uneven and chaotic.
So, my husband is home.
She wished that she were asleep. Today had been her wedding day, and a worse day in recent memory, Arabella could not recall.
To fall asleep and wake up tomorrow with this day behind her was what she needed more than anything.
But then what? What would happen tomorrow?
And the day after that? What was the point of wishing for what might happen next when she had no idea what that could possibly look like?
So, she lay staring at the ceiling, her mind racing, planning out her life as she saw it. Clearly, her husband wanted nothing to do with her, which she decided was a good thing. A marriage of convenience… Her convenience. She would make sure of it.
All Arabella wanted was the freedom to make her own choices, and the longer she lay awake, the more she realized she still had that chance. In fact, if her husband chose to avoid her, then perhaps that meant he would not try to stop her in whatever she ended up doing.
She would be alone, yes, but she would be free.
And that will have to do…
Only, as she listened to her husband’s footsteps clomping through the manor, she realized that they were approaching her room. Likely, his own quarters were further down the hall, nothing to worry about…
She lay perfectly still as those heavy footsteps started down the hallway.
One by one, they came closer and closer to her bedroom door.
Her heart started to race. Was that fear?
It must be. She was not scared of her husband so much as she was scared of what tonight was meant to signify.
And while he had implied that he did not expect such a thing, he had not said it outright.
Surely, he does not mean to… There is no way that he would…
But those footsteps came closer, and when they reached her bedroom door, they stopped.
Arabella held her breath, as if her husband might be able to hear her. She looked at the door, staring at it as if she could see through the timber. He was almost certainly standing on the other side, watching the closed door, but to what end? What did he want?
Her body trembled in fear, but there was something else.
It was a strange sensation that slowly descended over Arabella as she watched the closed door, picturing her husband on the other side.
Her heart raced. Her skin prickled. She found herself praying that he would move on, while also wondering what would happen if he did not.
Might he open the door and come inside? Might he take the liberties that any recently married man would expect? And might Arabella enjoy it…
No! He promised me a marriage of convenience. He would not dare!
The minutes dragged on. No sound came that suggested her husband had walked away. Arabella’s body was so hot that she threw back the covers. And the more time that passed by, the more irate she turned; the more annoyed she was. What was he doing?
Arabella had spent her life being told what to do by other men. She had no agency. She had no control over her world and what happened to her. And now, as she lay perfectly still and waited for her husband to make a decision, she knew that nothing had changed.
Is this what her life would be? Always wondering what her husband might do, and always knowing that his word was law?
That thought sent a fire burning hot through her body, roaring to life so that anger found Arabella.
Anger and a determination to finally put her foot down for once and take control of her life!
Really, it was about time that she did.
With that decision made, Arabella climbed from her bed and hurried across the room.
She had the bit between her teeth, the fire inside her burning so hot she felt like she might explode.
Because of that, she did not stop to consider if this was such a good idea.
If she had, she might have taken a second to think about what she was wearing.
She wore just her nightgown, a white garment, the material thin, almost translucent against her body. Although she was hot, the night air was chilled, and she trembled just a little. Her hair was let down. No make-up on. Totally exposed…
Nonetheless, she reached the bedroom door, and before stopping to think about what she was doing, she threw it open.
“What are you—” Her words caught in her throat when she saw the Duke.
As expected, he stood on the other side of her door.
Dressed as he had been for their ceremony, he stood in perfect darkness so that all she could make out was the gray of his eyes.
He was a mountain before her, a wall that blocked her path, and where Arabella had felt so confident just moments ago, she felt that confidence vanish like a candle being blown out.
“You are awake,” he said as if confused. He stood just two feet away, and Arabella smelled the alcohol on his breath. “Why are you not sleeping?”
“I…” Her voice cracked as he loomed over her, and she had to fight the urge to slam the door closed. “I heard you come home.”
“You were waiting for me?” The question seemed to excite him, and she saw that excitement pass behind his eyes. Just as she saw those same eyes roam her body.
Arabella was suddenly made aware of what she was wearing. On instinct, she moved a hand to cover her chest, at which point the Duke snapped his eyes back up and found her face.
“I was not waiting for you…” Her voice cracked further. “I… I was trying to sleep, and I heard you.” Despite how she trembled, she fixed a scowl on her face. “What are you doing? Why are you standing outside my door?”
“This is my home,” he said. “I ought not have to explain myself to you.”
“As I ought not have to worry about strange men lurking outside my bedroom of a night.”
“Strange men?” The words seemed to upset him. “I am your husband.”
“In name, perhaps.” The surprise of the moment had gone, and Arabella drew herself up. “But that is all. As far as I am aware, you are practically a stranger. Which, from what I have gathered, is exactly how you want it.”
“You sound upset.”
“I am not,” she said, even if her words lacked conviction. “In fact, the more that I have thought about it, the more I have come to decide that I agree with you.”
“Agree with me?” As her eyes adjusted to the light, Arabella was able to better make out the Duke’s face.
Even in the dark, the sharp lines of his perfect face were unmissable, and Arabella did her best not to notice them.
Although the way her eyes lingered certainly did not help. “Agree with me in what way?”
“You have made it quite clear what this marriage is to be,” she said, focusing on his eyes. Another mistake, because they were alluring, the type that trapped once they had you in their hold. “One of convenience where you and I are little more than strangers.”
He grimaced and looked away. “That is not… I do not wish for you to loathe this marriage, Arabella. I would like for it to be…” He looked at her again, down at her, seeming to somehow stand even taller than he had been.
“My intent was to rescue you from your father, so that you might have a better life here.”
“Which I will,” she said. “So long as you do not try to control me. Hence, us being strangers. I will have little to do with you, and you will have little to do with me. Is that not what you want?”
“No…” He spoke the word as if he had to force it. “That is not what I want.”
“Oh?” She blinked, surprised by his rejection. “Obviously, I will do what I can for Timothy, that is something you do not need to—”
“I did not mean it like that.” His words became sharp, almost angry. Standing over her, his gray eyes again roamed her body, and she saw a hunger flash behind them.
Arabella caught her breath. She had been so determined to say her piece, to make her position known, that she had almost forgotten the reason this conversation was possible in the first place.
It was her wedding night. Her husband had come to her room, and, though she knew little of such things, even she was not so ignorant as not to guess why.
The dynamic between them flipped suddenly.
Arabella shrank back, her confidence gone. The Duke stood taller and firmer, his gray eyes still fixed on her. A silence descended, trapping them in it. And while Arabella knew that she ought to have shut the door and be done with it, she could not bring herself to do so.
She wanted nothing to do with him. A life of her own, but the way he looked at her, the want evident in his eyes, common sense left her, replaced by a stirring in her stomach and a fire spreading across her thighs that she had never felt before.
What… What is that?
“You are…” He sucked through his teeth as if trying to control his anger. “You want freedom, but you would not know what to do with it if you had it. No, I do not think that freedom is what you truly crave.”
Her pulse raced. “That is not true.”
“It is,” he breathed. “You want control… You like to be told what to do. Admit it.”
She shook her head, but it was done weakly. “I want my own life.”
“And yet you married me.” He stepped forward quickly. She gasped, thought to hurry back, but found herself frozen to the spot. “I told you when we married that you must obey me. You heard the words, and you said nothing.”
“I…” Her voice cracked. “You said…”
“I did as I had to do; your father made sure of that.” Slowly, a hand moved to her face.
She saw it coming, froze still, and his fingers lightly traced under her chin.
“But now that we are wed, what I will not abide is this vague attempt to assert yourself. Not in my home. Not when you… Not when you are mine.”
She gasped. But as the Duke’s fingers stroked her under the chin, his touch was surprisingly gentle, and it sent sharp pulses through her body that were not nearly as bad as she might have thought.
There was a voice in her head screaming at her to stand up to the Duke.
Is that what she wanted to do? All her life, she had been controlled, and she could not let it happen again.
But the way he looked at her, the feelings it sent rushing through her body…
Arabella could not deny how amazing it was… How right it felt.
He wanted to control her, an anathema to her being. But then why did it not sound so bad? Why did she suddenly want it?
What is going on with me?
The Duke smirked through the darkness when he saw the fight leave her. A deep chuckle came from his lips. And then his fingers pinched her chin, forcing her to look right at him, and she knew exactly what he was going to do. In that moment, he owned her completely, and she simply did not care.
“What…” Her voice cracked. “What are you doing?”
“What I should have done earlier,” he said.
Without another word, the Duke leaned forward and pulled Arabella toward him. Her eyes widened in shock, but she did not pull away. Rather, she let her face be guided; her mouth moistened, her lips puckered, and all sense of reason vanished as their lips met in a kiss.
The kiss felt like a fire had been lit on Arabella’s lips.
One that raced through her mouth, down her throat, and wrapped around her heart.
The Duke held her by the chin as his lips forced her mouth open, his tongue then diving inside.
He licked, and he lapped, bit her lower lip, sucked it, then kissed her some more.
A moan escaped Arabella’s mouth that she had not meant but could not control. Her heart thumped so loudly that she was sure he heard it. She had never kissed anyone before; she did not know what she was doing, but that did not stop her.
Slowly, Arabella relaxed. She gave herself into the kiss. The taste of her husband’s lips. The feel of his tongue. The way it excited her body, making her tremble all over.
Why had she been so afraid of this? Why was she so determined to be alone? If this was what married life was like, maybe it would not be such a bad…
Taken completely by the passion of the kiss, Arabella moved her hands to the Duke’s waist, trying to pull him in closer to her body.
“No!” Suddenly, the Duke pulled back. Arabella gasped in surprise, lurched forward, and nearly stumbled when he let her go and turned away. “I will not…” he hissed at himself, shame erupting from his body.
“What?” she asked. “What happened…”
He continued to look away from her. “There is an irony here, Arabella. I speak of control and yet…” He shook his head. “Go to bed, wife. The hour is late.”
She gasped as if something had been torn from her suddenly; she could still feel her lips burning where he had kissed her. “What? Why are you… You came to me!” Why was she suddenly angry? Why did she want this?
“I should not have done this. You are right, I do not want to control you, nor do I wish to force you to do anything that you do not wish to do. I was wrong to have come here.”
She did not know what to say. She ought to have been thrilled! Vindicated, even! But there was something about the way the Duke shrank back, how ashamed he appeared, that she could not ignore. She did not fully understand it, but she knew it had everything to do with what had almost happened.
“One day, perhaps.” He spoke more to himself than to her. “But only when you want it, and when I can control myself. I need to…” He groaned as if in pain. “I need to do better.”
“What are you talking about?”
He did not answer. Instead, he turned and stormed down the hallway.
And there Arabella stood, utterly confused, completely lost, no idea what had just happened or why.
In some ways, it felt like a victory, as if she had proven to the Duke that he did not own her.
But then again, that was not completely true either.
When she did finally return to bed, her body still hot, still trembling, Arabella could not escape the feeling that she had just lost something.
Just as she knew that she was not nearly so desperate for freedom and independence as she claimed to believe.
Whatever this marriage was, it was not what she had expected, and she could not decide if that was a good or bad thing.
And all the while, her lips burned where the Duke had kissed her, and that burning sensation stayed with her long after she fell asleep.