Chapter 10
“The question is, do we think that Lady Rachel meant to injure her cousin, or did she mean to flirt with him?” Verity muttered to herself while drumming her nails on the writing desk.
It was a question she’d been considering most of the evening.
Unable to remain seated, she paced about her bed chamber. The hour was late after she’d attended a soiree that evening. Her eyes ached with the need for sleep. But she hadn’t put out a journal this week and she needed to get this sent as soon as possible. All she needed was one final section…
The problem is that it wouldn’t matter if Mr. Courtney wasn’t up for a seat in the House of Commons.
And there’s chatter about him potentially marrying a daughter of a duke.
If I mention this, everyone will know who I am talking about even if the name isn’t stated outright.
Will this hurt his chances? Is that a risk I’m willing to bear?
I don’t like that, the consequences that I cannot control.
Verity still couldn’t settle after ten minutes of circling her room. It was a large chamber beautifully laid out in creams and a soft yellow. She’d added a few hints of green that complimented the space. It was partitioned into three large spaces––and it still wasn’t enough for her.
“I think it will fit perfectly before the broken engagement of the Porter daughter,” Verity decided aloud, “so I cannot waste the space. I need this. But what am I to do?”
The room didn’t answer. Deciding she needed more air, Verity tied her dressing gown a little tighter and then took a candle out of the room. She had only been married three days now. Everything felt new and she was hopeful the unfamiliarity could boost her thinking process.
“Verity?”
“Oh!” She rounded a corner to nearly fall right into him.
How silly that would be, to trip into him again.
Just like the day they met. One of them settled on her elbow, beneath the candle, to hold her steady when her footing wavered.
Her eyes settled on his upper arms for a moment seeing how thick they were, how strong they could keep her up when she nearly fell.
“Are you well?”
She blinked. “I… I beg your pardon, Your Grace. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“It can be difficult in the dark.” He leaned forward. “Is something amiss? Where were you going?”
Verity swallowed. She blinked. And she tried to come up with a lie.
Her mouth opened and closed. It wasn’t as though she could tell him about the journal.
No, that was her secret. He would be horrified to know.
He would force her to stop. Her fingers clenched so hard around the candle holder than her hand shook.
His grip on her elbow tightened. “Are––”
“I’m all right.” She forced her voice to lighten. “I am afraid I was doing some woolgathering.”
“In the halls?”
“It’s as good a place as any. Speaking of which, what are you doing out here?” Verity hastily turned it back to him. Surprise shone in his eyes, and she counted it a point to herself from having grown up with so many siblings.
Of course, they wouldn’t have helped her from toppling over should they run into each other. But Dominic did. He still had a hand on her…
Her gaze dropped down to where they touched. How could she feel him, so warm and firm as he held onto her? She felt her heart skip a beat. There was no accounting for the sensation, all warm and tingling, driving its way up her spine.
Dominic let go too soon.
But, Verity noted privately with more cheer than she cared to admit, he didn’t step away. They were still close to one another.
The candlelight between them flickered softly. She looked up at him again, forgetting for a moment what they were talking about. After all, he was so very handsome. She couldn’t ignore that. He was handsome and proper and did nothing wrong.
It is hard to find fault in my husband when I didn’t know exactly what I desired in a match.
It is more and less than what I expected.
Or perhaps not less. Simply different. I hardly know what to expect.
Every time I see him I feel like I am dipping my toes into a new pond, not knowing how deep I shall go this time, or what awaits me under the surface.
“I suppose I wander some nights,” Dominic told her. “I just left the sunroom and thought to try for bed again.
“You wander? Woolgathering?” She hid a smile.
Though she wished he would show his. Last night at supper, he’d given her a full smile when she retold the story of Cassian receiving a hunting dog that he never trained properly because long ago he had a very tender heart.
Dominic had a soft spot for gentle children and puppies, apparently.
She wondered if that would make him smile again.
“Not particularly. I haven’t been sleeping of late,” he explained.
“Have you not been tired?”
He hesitated and shook his head. The curls on his head bounced––they were more unruly after a long day, and she rather liked them––and she caught a scent of fresh citrus. It surely had to be in his soap to be this fragrant. It made her mouth water for something delicious.
“There have been many… complex problems with my estates,” Dominic admitted after a short spell. “I’ve had many problems to solve. They consume me at times, and I find myself unable to sleep when there are questions unanswered.”
A small huff of amusement escaped her. “I can imagine that perfectly myself. Have you always been this way, staying up late and wandering the halls? Surely the household would be concerned.”
“They have always known my habits.”
Her brow furrowed as she asked, “How long has this been going on?”
“I shouldn’t like to worry you,” he evaded the question politely and shook his head. “Is there anything I can do to assist you? Some warm milk, perhaps?”
“You can do it yourself?”
“Entirely so. I wouldn’t wish to wake the household at this hour.” He pulled out his pocket watch to confirm. “Thirty-four minutes after midnight. I would be glad to prepare you a glass if you like?”
Shaking her head, Verity didn’t think that would help. The gesture was nice all the same. Particularly nice as he didn’t want to answer the question. In the day, she rarely noticed circles under his eyes. But this lighting made them grow and she found a note of worry laying on her shoulders.
The two of them were growing comfortable with one another. Hopeful friends, Verity decided. He was still polite but less formal day by day. She was excited for the day he would unravel like a flower to his core self outside of all of these manners and formalities.
Thus far, he continues to be a stalwart and fair gentleman. His shoulders relax and yet… I know he has secrets. He must. For we all do.
“You are restless,” Dominic noted. “Come, let us enjoy some warm milk together.”
When he offered his arm, she couldn’t help but to accept it. They started down the dark hall and she giggled.
“This is absurd,” she told him.
“What is?”
“Carrying me on your arm like we are off to supper. It’s the middle of the night, Your Grace. It’s dark and there is no one to see what we do.”
He thought about this for a moment before asking, “Would you like to remove yourself from my arm? If you would prefer not to touch…”
“No,” Verity replied hastily, pulling him a little closer. She hoped the lighting hid her blush. “Not at all. That’s not what I was saying. Only it feels very… respectable.”
His eyebrow quirked up to reveal he understood her humor, though his words remained proper. “Are we not respectable?”
“I suppose we are. You know, you’re very wide awake. Did you not retire early? That was hours ago. Have you even tried to sleep tonight?”
“I didn’t know we were here to doubt one another’s sleeping habits,” he responded lightly. “Is this also your way of asking if I snore?”
A short huff of amusement escaped her. “Certainly not. I can hear you through the door all on my own.” Then she laughed when his eyes widened in alarm. “It’s only a jest! I haven’t heard a peep.”
“Then that is a relief, I think.” He allowed a short chuckle, low and rumbly in his chest, before he steered them down the stairs. They were near their descent when he nodded to her hand. “You have ink stains. Were you writing in your room?”
“What? Oh. Yes. Erm… letters.”
“Letters?”
“To my sisters. I was telling them about a funny story, and…” Verity slowed down as something came to mind. There it was. The words had arrived. She had her story angle for the couple. Warm relief soared through her as she pulled away from him.
Turning, Dominic asked her, “What is it?”
“I just remembered something. I must write it down at once.” Verity took a step back up the stairs. “I’m sorry, Dominic, might we save this for another evening? I should like to pen this down before I forget myself.”
Confusion clouded his brow before he gave a quick shake, clearing it. He didn’t suspect a thing. He couldn’t. “Certainly. Walk carefully, if you please, and I shall see you tomorrow.”
“Yes, yes, exactly that.”
“And one more thing.”
She looked back, waiting with wide eyes. “Yes?”
He hesitated for a moment as though he didn’t know what he was going to say. Or perhaps he was reluctant. But then the words came out with his chin raised and his eyes focused right on her. “Dominic. You may call me Dominic.”
Hopefully the candlelight did not shine bright enough to reveal her blush as she considered his Christian name. It was such an intimate thing to know. To say.
Finding her tongue, she nodded. “Very well, Dominic. Good night!”
It only took her a moment to return to her bed chamber and portable writing desk. Breathlessly taking her seat, Verity’s hands froze. The words remained. She could write them, and she would. But now Dominic’s name was on her tongue and something about that felt different. Special.