The Duke and the Accidental Bride (Duchesses of Convenience #5)

Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

I sabella was becoming more confused by the day.

This marriage was supposed to be suffocating. It was supposed to be hostile and incompatible. It was supposed to be a constant assault on her ideals and freedoms as she sought for a way to escape the horror that was married life. Married life to Duke Fangsdale, no less.

So far, it had been nothing of the sort. Hence the confusion.

If anything, as the first week of marriage proved, it was the complete opposite. Heck, it was so far removed from what she had been anticipating that it was almost boring.

“What are those?” Isabella asked as she wandered into the dining room to break her fast on the second morning of her marriage. She had not chosen that time because Duncan also happened to be eating – it was not as if she wanted to spend any more time with him than she already had. I don’t! It was just a coincidence...

As for what she was pointing at in confusion, that was the bouquet of purple and yellow colored flowers arranged by her seat.

“They’re called flowers,” Duncan responded as if it was obvious.

“Wh -- Where did they come from?” She paused by her chair, confused by the gesture. Sensing a trap.

“They are for you,” Duncan said with what looked to be a genuine smile. He watched her closely, taking note of her reaction. “As to their origin? The garden. I do not know if you’ve had time to explore but my gardeners have done a rather impressive job with the horticulture.”

“Oh, have they? That is... that is very nice. Of you, I mean.” She blushed furiously, hating the fact that she did. “That is very nice of you.”

“I thought it might brighten your morning,” he continued pleasantly. “As much as you have done for mine. That dress...” He exhaled and his smile grew. “Ravishing, Isabella.”

“Th -- thank you.” She sat down quickly, and awkwardly. She wasn’t used to getting these sorts of compliments from men and had no idea how to react to such a thing. “Really, you do not have to say...”

“I am just paying my wife a compliment,” he continued with an air of charm that almost felt genuine. “Surely, you won’t deny me that?”

Isabella could not have been more confused. Was this genuine? Did he mean the things that he said? Or was this just an angle he was using, to what end she could not imagine.

Again, she had no idea how to react. Her natural inclination was to say something sharp and scathing – at him. But if this was real, and he was trying to be kind for a damn change, the least that she could do was be grateful.

Why, it might have even been the first kind thing he had done for her.

“I do appreciate it,” she said with a smile to match Duncan’s. “And you also, look very...” She swallowed. “Very handsome this morning.”

“Just doing my best not to drag you down,” he said automatically. A little too quickly. “Again, that dress. Breathtaking.”

She eyed him curiously. And again, she very nearly said something biting or dismissive, to tell him that she wasn’t to be fooled by whatever the heck it was that he was doing. But she held her tongue. Barely.

“Again, thank you,” she said. “I... it brings me joy to hear you say such kind words.”

Isabella was still trying to decide what she was going to do about this marriage. How she was going to approach it. The marriage had gone through. It had happened. She and the Duke were together, and there was nothing Isabella could do to change that.

The question now became, how was she going to approach this marriage.

She was no longer intimidated by her husband. At least not in the way that she had before. After what had happened the previous night, she was beginning to better understand the threats that Duncan had made toward her. Threats that she now thought she might enjoy.

In fact, following a long night of tossing and turning and sweating and shaking, she was damn certain that she would enjoy them.

It should have been easy from there. Isabella knew how to push her husband’s buttons better than she ought to have. It was as easy as breathing, as natural as walking. And once she started... her body literally quivered at the thought.

But enter this morning. Enter the flowers and the niceness and the genuine effort to avoid hostilities and Isabella was at a loss as to how she should react.

He was being nice . Purposefully nice. It was clear that he was doing his best to show her another side of him. As if he was apologizing silently in his own way, letting her know that things were going to change.

But... but... but what if I don’t want them to change? Not yet.

“Duncan, I was just thinking,” Isabella began pleasantly as she settled into her chair. “My sisters yesterday were telling me of an upcoming ball that they will both be attending at the Manfield Manor.”

“I have heard of it.”

“Oh good, because I plan on going.” She cocked an eyebrow at him, licking her lips with anticipation. “In fact, I am going to attend. In the interest of letting you know my plans, I thought I should tell you of them in advance.”

“Is that right...” She could see his mind at work, that desire to chastise her for telling him, rather than asking, what she wished to do. He hated that.

“It is,” she said with an arrogant smile that she knew would drive him wild. “If you do not wish to attend, that is fine by me, of course. And if you have already made other plans, I understand perfectly well. But I am going, and that is final.”

“The ball is on the Friday night, yes?”

“I believe it is.”

Duncan grimaced. His jaw clenched as he worked about as hard as a man ever has to keep his temper. “I had made plans that evening to see some friends in London.”

“Oh.” She blinked as if it hadn’t occurred to her. Beneath the table, her legs shook with a sense of excitement as she imagined the Duke’s temper rising so that he had no choice but to grab her and... “Well, that is a shame,” she finished.

“You do realize how strange it would look if you were to attend such an event without me?”

“Perhaps,” she agreed, eyeing him closely, looking for the chink in his armor at which she could strike. “But I am going, Duncan. I promised my sisters already and I would hate to break it. How might that make me look.”

Isabella could see it happening in real time. The side of his mouth twitching. The anger boiling. The desire he must have felt to reprimand her for being so rude and abrasive. For not behaving as she had promised.

“I suppose that means you will be needing a new dress,” Duncan said suddenly. “Which is perfect timing, because I was looking for an excuse to buy you one.”

Her face dropped. “Excuse me?”

“I can always change my plans,” he shrugged as he seemed to relax. “They were not written in stone. The Mayfield Ball, is it? Should be a wonderful time.”

Isabella’s stomach dropped and disappointment swept over her. Not to mention surprise! She studied her husband closely, desperate to see what the heck was going on with him. And what she could do about it. But he smiled with what appeared genuine affection and despite her burning desire to start an argument, Isabella’s resolve wavered.

If he wanted to be nice to her for a damn change, then so be it. Isabella wouldn’t be the one the break this attempted rebranding. She knew Duncan well enough to know that it could not last and most likely, before the day was even out, they would devolve back to their usual state of play.

Isabella still had no idea what that would mean exactly. But the image of her naked husband and the look he had held in his eyes as he resisted the urge to punish her was enough to make her want to find out.

I just need to be patient. A day at most, surely...

The week that followed was as long as it was confusing as it was disappointing.

Duncan was as determined to be as congenial and companionable as he could be, showering Isabella with compliments every time he saw her, buying her gifts such as flowers and chocolates daily for no other reason that he wanted to please her. Being affectionate with his words and actions in a way that should have been enchanting but came across as false.

And Isabella, not wanting to insult a man who had literally just swept into the room with a box of chocolates for her – specially bought in London – had no choice but to go along with it.

“How is the food?” he asked one evening as they ate together.

The dish was a seafood bouillabaisse, a surprise to sabella when it had been served in front of her, as she recognized the meal immediately. And could not believe that Duncan had requested it.

“It is lovely, thank you,” she said plainly, her mind working to find a way to insult it. But she could not! And for a very specific reason.

“I suspected you might like it,” he said with a charming smile. “I asked your mother what your favorite dish was, and had my chefs prepare it especially for you. Is it up to your liking.”

“It is, thank you.”

“Wonderful.”

“Although...” Isabella was desperate. “It is not quite the same as the one served at home.”

“Oh...?” His head tilted, his lips tightened.

"The fish...” She grimaced. “Do you know what type it is?”

“Ah... no, I did not --”

“It is almost certainly the wrong type of fish. And it sweeter than I remember. Certainly not the same."

She could see it happening. His temper fraying. His anger piquing. That desire to tell her to stop behaving like a child and be damn grateful, rearing its ugly head...

Isabella braced for it. Excitement building. Legs shaking and pulse rising and mind going back to that night in the washroom, her naked husband grabbing her and lifting her and --

“I will speak to the chef” Duncan said with a shrug and a deep sigh. “And your mother’s chef while I am at it. See if we can’t do better the next time.”

She pushed her lips together, annoyed. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

Nothing was working! Nothing she said or did seemed to bring him to anger!

The only reason that Isabella could come up with for why he was behaving this was, was because he did not want to take her to bed. Was it possible that he had given her the choice, knowing that she would deny him?

Only then she remembered his effort at self-control. How obvious it was that he wanted her and that he was for some reason doing everything in his power to stop himself.

It was all very confusing. Isabella the unsure. Duncan the controlled. She still did not know what she wanted from the marriage. But what she did know was that if she was to be stuck like this, the last thing she wanted was boredom.

Something needed to give. Desperate to find out once and for all what Duncan might do if he was pushed to the edge, Isabella decided that she needed to stop waiting for the moment to appear and to just create it herself. And with the Mayfield Ball right around the corner... the timing couldn’t be better.