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

Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

“ O w!” Isabella yelped as she sat down.

“What? What’s wrong?” Louisa asked.

“Nothing...” Isabella chuckled nervously as she adjusted herself on the seat, careful not to hit one of the many bruises that covered her behind. She was still getting used to that. “I just pinched myself, is all.”

“Perhaps hoping you might wake up from a nightmare,” Louisa noted. “No doubt you have been pinching yourself every hour on the hour this week. Sorry to say, Isabella, but this is the reality.”

Replace the word pinching with spanking and you might not be as far off as you think.

Isabella could not stop herself from smirking. “And why do you say that?”

“Isabella...” Louisa sighed and shook her head. “You do not have to pretend with me -- I am surprised you are even bothering to. I thought you said that His Grace was out of the day?” Louisa turned about and looked throughout the back garden, as if expecting Duncan to pop up suddenly. “Worried one of the staff might tell on you?”

“Oh...” Isabella chuckled. “I see what you are you saying. And no, no, do not fear. His Grace does not have me in such a state that I am worried to speak out again him. Quite the opposite in fact,” she added with a coy smile as her mind flashed to earlier this morning when --

No, no. Do not go there. Not while your sister sits across from you.

“Oh no.” Louisa clicked her tongue. “It is even worse than I thought.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was wondering why I had not heard from you all week – since the Mayfield Ball. And if you remember well, when you and His Grace left, you had murder written all over your face.”

Isabella frowned as she tried to remember. “What are you...?”

“Lady St. Vincent,” Louisa explained. “And your husband’s rather, forgive me for saying, lack of respect, regarding how he behaved in front of you that evening.” A shake of the head and another dismissive sigh. “Let me guess. The moment the two of you arrived home, you went at it like a couple of alley cats trapped inside a rucksack together and based on how...” Louisa looked Isabella over, her lips tightening with worry. “... horrid you look, the two of you have not stopped. Tell me I am wrong. Please.”

Isabella almost laughed. “Is that what you think?”

“What else could I possible think!” Louisa cried. “A week now you have been in hiding and when I do come to see you, not only is His Grace out but, and forgive me for saying, you look as if you have not slept in days, Isabella.” Worry took her expression, and she shuffled in closer, dropping her voice. “If something is the matter, you know that you can tell me anything. As insistent as mother was in seeing this marriage go through, even she would not stand by if she thought that His Grace was...” She swallowed.

“Was what?”

Another glance about the empty garden and her voice dropped even further. “Hitting you. Now, is he? Because if he is...” She trailed off nervously, her body shaking with worry.

And again, Isabella very nearly laughed.

Louisa’s visit this morning had surprised Isabella, for it was unannounced. In fact, Isabella had just finished saying goodbye to the Duke – in the ways that they had both become accustomed to -- barely having time to throw on a dress before rushing downstairs to greet her sister who had stood idly in the foyer, a look on her face that spoke to the fear she must have been feeling for Isabella’s safety.

One look at Isabella’s state and that fear exploded. Isabella’s hair was a mess. She had no make-up on. Her dress was crumpled, for it was the same she had worn the previous night. Her skin was washed out from dehydration. And that wasn’t to mention the bruises on her lower neck and wrists.

It was no wonder Louisa was terrified.

“Louisa...” Isabella reached out and took her sister by the hand. They were sitting on a picnic blanket, under an oak tree, shaded from the sun, but her sister’s skin was flushed warm from worry. “I can assure you that you could not be further from the truth.”

“Do not lie to me! Do not feel that you have to!”

“I am not lying,” Isabella said, squeezing her by the hand and meeting her eyes. “His Grace and I are...” She bit into her lip as she considered what to say. “Despite everything, and as shocking as it might sound, we are doing rather well together. Better than that, in fact.”

“Really?” Louisa leaned back and blinked.

“It has been a strange week.” Isabella spoke carefully, and was certain not to let her mind wander because she did not need to allude too closely to what the cause for such a week had been. “But following the Mayfield Ball, His Grace and I spoke openly for the first time, and as unbelievable as it might sound...” She made sure to smile so that her sister would not think that she was lying. “We have come to an understanding that has, dare I say, threatened to save this marriage.”

“An understanding?” Louisa frowned. “What sort of understanding?”

“Oh...” Isabella shrugged and looked away as she felt her cheeks begin to flush. “I will not bore you with the details. Just husband and wife stuff.”

“Such as?”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Isabella winked.

Even I do not fully understand. And I am the one doing it!

It was hard to put into words exactly what was happening between the Duke and Isabella. Where it had come from. What it meant. And what it may or may not lead to in the future – if it led to anything beyond what it was already.

All Isabella knew was that she was enjoying it. An understatement of the highest order, as Isabella more than simply enjoyed the passion-injected debauchery that she and Duncan engaged in. She loved it. She worshipped it. It was like oxygen to her, needed to maintain life itself for without it she was certain to wither and die.

Now, was that a tad hyperbolic? It most certainly was. But that just spoke to how amazing this week had been.

It was just so unlike her. Still, a week later, and she struggled to believe it was happening. Growing up, Isabella had hated being told what to do. She had despised being treated like a little girl. And she loathed being made to feel less than or worthless in another’s eyes. But when Duncan did it to her...

She did not understand it. She did not know what it meant. All she knew was that with everything going as well as it was, there was no need to stop.

What was more, she was certain Duncan was of the same mind as she.

“So, the two of you are happy then?” Louisa scoffed as if she did not believe it, suddenly sounding almost upset by the notion. “Congratulations, I suppose.”

“Do not sound so happy,” Isabella laughed.

“I am,” Louisa assured her, not sounding like she meant it. And indeed, Isabella gave her a dismissive look which had Louisa hurrying to justify herself. “I am sorry if I sound a little upset – I am not. I am just surprised, that is all. The woman sitting before me, my own twin as I once knew her, would have rather peeled the skin from her own body then submit to married life as you have. With a man who just seven days ago you seemed to despise! It is just strange, is all.”

Isabella shrugged. “Believe me, I am equally as surprised as you are.”

She scoffed again. “And smitten, by that look in your eyes.”

“Oh, I am not,” she shot back quickly... a little too quickly. “I am just... content.”

To this, Louisa flashed her eyes wickedly. “Ah, now I see what this is. Why you are being so coy. When did it happen, Isabella? More importantly, how did it happen?”

“How did what happen?”

She widened her eyes. “You and His Grace. You have fallen in love!”

“We have not!”

“No, no, do not deny it,” she tittered. “And do not act as if it is such a bad thing either. Honestly, one cannot win with you. You act proud and haughty when describing how much you loathe the man with whom you share a bed...” She looked pointedly at Isabella, as if expecting her to denounce such a comment. When she did not, Louisa’s grin grew. “Yet you act like a child when it comes to admitting what any happily married couple, as you so claim, should be championing.”

“We are not in love,” Isabella said truthfully. “Far from it.”

“Just happy?” Louisa tittered again.

“Is something wrong with that?”

“Not at all...” Louisa could not have looked more pleased. “I for one am glad to hear it. I could not be happier for you.”

Isabella eyed her warningly but did not push the subject. Mostly because she did not want to keep discussing it, as that would force her to consider the one topic that she had refused to so much as contemplate all week for fear that it might suck the joy from the moment and utterly destroy the state of being that she and the Duke had found themselves in.

As well as everything had been going for this past week, Isabella could not help but notice how surface level it was. Oh sure, she and Duncan were closer and more comfortable with one another than they had ever been before, but it never went beyond the amorous.

They did not speak to one another unless fighting.

They did not discuss personal matters, save for using them to throw barbs and humiliate to cause anger.

They did not hint at a future beyond what was the current, both happy to exist in this state because it was easy and fun and pleasure filled beyond what should have been possible.

Yet as good as that was, as wonderful as it was, surely it could not go on forever? And when it did come to an end, what would happen next? Would they go back to hating the other? Or was there a chance at something more real?

And do I even want such a thing?

Sometimes, she would find herself thinking about the after care, those moments of softness and tenderness that she and Duncan shared once the sex was finished with. When he held her. When he made sure that he had not gone too far. When he checked on her well-being. Little was said in these moments how comfortable she felt during them spoke to a deeper connection that she was not quite willing to admit to.

It was a strange thing. A week ago, Isabella was happy to imagine that through sheer force of will, she might still have been able to end this marriage somehow. But now, if given the chance to, she wasn’t so sure that she would take it.

“It is a shame that you are both so happy, truth be told,” Louisa sighed and looked away.

Isabella frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Only that if you were not, I might have had something interesting to tell you.” She shrugged in a nonchalant manner. “But now, you will not care. Why would you?”

“Tell me what?” Isabella demanded hotly. “Louisa...”

Louisa spun about quickly, widened her eyes excitedly, and then shuffled in closer. “Oh, only because you insisted. But I heard a little rumor recently that the old Isabella would have jumped out of her skin to have learned.”

“Which is?”

“Only that the Duke of Hermon is returning to London next week and that he will likely be attending the Clementine Ball --”

“Get out!”

“I most certainly will not.”

“He will be here?” Isabella asked with a rush of excitement. “He is coming. You are certain?”

“I am. But again...” She shrugged and shook her head. “It should not matter to you. Not now that you are so happy .” She eyed Isabella closely, looking for the response she must have known to expect.

And Isabella gave it to her.

A smile crossed her lips. Excitement shone in her eyes. A chance presented, one that she had been waiting for, finally here for the taking.

And Isabella wasn’t going to miss it. That had just never been her way.

The Duke of Hermon was a renowned scholar who, from what she had heard, was agreeable when it came to the tabooed subject of a woman’s role in the sciences and further education in general. Most men of his stature thought education to be a man’s business, and a woman would do better not to worry about such things as that.

The Duke was not of the same mind.

If rumor was for once true, he was even known to take young women under his wing and educate them personally where universities refused. Private tutoring lessons, learning expeditions, even books leant for reading and study!

All her life, Isabella had wanted more than what society gave her. Not marriage. Not love. Education. She wanted to learn, to prove that she was as smart as any man, and the Duke was one whom she had kept a close eye on for this reason. For years she had envisioned approaching him when the chance came and asking if he would take her on as one of his own students.

Or she had imagined it... still did... still wanted such a thing. Surely, married life should not make a difference? Why would it?

“Ah, so, now you’re wondering what your husband might say,” Louisa said quickly, noting the look in Isabella’s eyes.

“What?”

“I am sure that you can ask him,” she chuckled. “His Grace, I mean. As happy as you both are, why would he deny you the chance to further your education with the Duke of Hermon. Who is, I have heard, rather delicious to look at. Not that it matters.”

“I am sure he would not mind.” Isabella eyed her warningly.

“So, if you were to see the Duke of Hermon, you would approach and speak with him? Without worry what your husband might say.”

“Yes, I think I would.”

“And His Grace, he would not mind, I am sure.”

Isabella narrowed her eyes. “He would not mind as there would be nothing too mind. In fact, I hope that our paths do cross. It would be nice to speak of such things other than marriage. Which, it would seem, is all you care to discuss. Rather droll, if you ask me.”

Louisa smirked to herself, apparently pleased that she was able to pry at her sister in ways that suggested everything was not quite as tranquil as it seemed.

Put simply, that’s because it wasn’t.

It was easy to pretend that she and Duncan were in a good place and there was no need to change it. But for how good it was, it was equally as confusing. There was no closeness there. No sense of companionship. Far removed from how a married couple should feel.

Even the after care, for how close it brought them when they were together and experiencing it, only came about because of the harshness of their sexual congress. Could she not have one without the other? Did Duncan even wish for such a thing?

Yet when she thought of the Duke of Hermon, there was an undeniable sense of guilt that attacked her when she considered going behind Duncan’s back. But then why should she care what he thought, if their relationship was indeed just surface level?

Troubling questions. Confusing answers. The week that was had been fulfilled, unexpected, and downright filthy in all the ways that truly mattered. But as Isabella bickered with her twin sister she began to wonder for the first time where she and Duncan went from here.

A topic which both frightened and excited her in much the same ways that her husband so often did.