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

Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

“ N ow, before we arrive,” Duncan began with a sternness to his voice that went beyond anything playful. It was a warning, one that this time Isabella knew she would be right to heed. “What are we going to be today?”

“On our best behavior,” Isabella said.

“And what are we not going to do?”

“Argue.”

“And...?”

“Fight. Bicker. Do or say anything that might tempt you into dragging me into one of the washrooms and reminding me what happens to bad girls when they don’t do as they are told.” She flashed her eyes suggestively and before she knew what she was doing, her hand wrapped her husband’s muscular thigh and gave it a squeeze.

“Isabella...” Duncan groaned but did not move her hand. “That is enough.”

“Oh, I am sorry.” She moved her hand further up his thigh, right to where she could see his member pressed against the thin fabric of his pants. Already stiff, she could practically see it throbbing. “Should I not...?”

“You know the answer to that.” He was leaning back, legs spread, making no move to stop her.

“Then why don’t you stop me?” Smirking, her hand moved up and cupped his package. Squeezed it. And then she leaned into him, nice and close, and whispered into his ear. “Punish me...”

Duncan’s eyes were closed, and she could literally see him fighting with his inner demons. Deep, calming breaths as he twitched and searched for the courage he needed to stop her. But they were alone, in the back of the carriage, with nobody to see or interrupt them... at least until they arrived.

“No.” He exhaled and gave his head a shake. “I said no!” He snatched her hand and threw it away. Then he forced his eyes open and glared a warning at her. “This is exactly what I do not want from today.”

She laughed. “I was just testing you, Duncan. And wouldn’t you know it, you passed.”

“Testing me?”

She winked. “Seeing if you had the self-control that I know you are going to need.”

He groaned. “You’re the one I am worried about!”

“Which is silly.” She shuffled back and crossed her arms. “You are the uncaged animal here, posing as a member of the gentry. I am just an innocent woman, unlucky enough to stumble across your path. Honestly, even being alone now as we are...” She pretended to look about as if for an escape. “I do not feel safe.”

“Good,” he growled and reared up as if he meant to pounce on her. “And for testing me like that, you will pay.”

“Is that right?”

“Oh, I think you – no!” He clenched his jaw and pulled back. “Not now. This is --” He turns his hands into fists. “This is a lot harder than it ought to be.”

Isabella laughed, enjoying making her husband squirm. “It will be fine, Duncan. It will only be a couple of hours at most. And how about this...” She raised an eyebrow at him. “If you manage to behave yourself, today --”

“Me!”

“If you do,” she emphasized. “When we arrive home later, I promise to be extra bad for you. I cannot help but think you will have earned it.”

He swallowed and his face paled. “Extra bad...”

She winked. “Just you wait and see.”

This had him smiling and straightening up. More deep and calmed breathing. Adjusting himself and making sure that there would be no awkward conversations when they arrived. It was his command that the two behaved themselves today, so the least he could do was acquiesce.

Although, and to be perfectly fair, even if Duncan had not made sure that Isabella did not tempt him or do anything that might excite him today, she still would not have. Heaven’s no!

They were on their way to have supper with Duncan’s grandmother and somehow the thought of having ravenous sex with Duncan while the aged dowager marchioness sat in the other room waiting didn’t quite appeal to Isabella.

It’s nice to know, at least, that I still have my limitations. However few there are left.

It was strange to think but a small part of Isabella was looking forward to today, more than she might have guessed. For two weeks now, she and Duncan had been in the throes of exploring one another’s sexual proclivities without care or abandon, and still she felt no closer to him than she did the day they had met.

Oh sure, she knew things about the man which she was certain nobody else knew. But she didn’t know him. Not really. Rarely did they speak openly or honestly. And never did they have a normal conversation that didn’t lead to the obvious.

Isabella was still not certain what she wanted from this marriage. But she knew now that the way things were going could not last forever. And if she and Duncan were to have any future at all, whatever that might look like, they would have to get to know one another eventually. To have a conversation without turning it into a fight! To prove that there was more here than just sex.

Surely, that would not be too hard? Surely not...

Her mind strayed for a moment, to the after care. When Duncan would hold her and she would feeler safer than she ever had. Was this not proof that they could be more? That there was a chance they might have a relationship outside of the volatile? Or did one only exist because of the other?

“We’re here,” Duncan said suddenly, with a hint of panic. “We’re here. How do I look? Is everything....” He grimaced.

“It doesn’t look as if you were just about to pin me down and eat my --”

“Isabella!”

“I am joking,” she chuckled. “Just joking. You look...” She smiled. “You look good, Duncan. Very handsome.”

He frowned at the compliment. But then he looked her over, the frown deepening in a way that looked as if he was surprised by what he saw – as if he was only just now seeing her sitting there. “And so do you, Isabella. Beautiful, in fact.”

She rolled her eyes, certain the compliment was forced. But that did not stop her from blushing. It was one of the first compliments that he had given her since this whole thing began.

“Now, are you ready?” Duncan asked her, still a little nervous. “My grandmother is old, remember. She might not be able to hear you, so you need to speak up. And if she appears bored, she is not, that is just her --”

“Hey.” Feeling a sudden desire, Isabella reached down and took Duncan’s hand. “It will be fine. I promise.”

To that, Duncan smiled, squeezing her hand back, seeming to relax as if he believed her. More than that, as if he trusted her.

“... and you look very beautiful, dear,” Lady Martell said. “That dress is wonderful.”

“Thank you,” Isabella responded politely.

“Duncan...” Lady Martell looked pointedly at her grandson. “Have you told your wife how pretty she looks today?”

“Of course I have, grandmother.”

His grandmother did not falter. She kept her pointed stare on her grandson and raised an eyebrow at him. Unyielding, the look was more commanding than an eighty-two-year-old woman who’s head barely came above the table should have been able to produce.

Duncan sighed. “Do not give me that look.”

“What look?” his grandmother said as if she had no idea.

He looked at her flatly. “Grandmother, I will remind you that I am not one who –”

“Who pays his wife a compliment when she looks as ravishing as your wife does? I am one to agree.”

Duncan levelled a warning gaze at his grandmother. She raised her own challenging eyebrow back. Then, he shook his head, even smiling, as Isabella sensed that this was a common way for the two to speak to one another. “You look beautiful, Isabella.” He smiled as he turned to face her. “As my grandmother says, very pretty.”

“Thank you,” Isabella said appreciatively. Then she did the same to his grandmother. “And thank you, my lady. And for reminding your grandson that it does not hurt to pay a lady a compliment every now and then.” She side-eyed Duncan. “Genuinely, that is.”

Lady Martell nodded her head rightly, proud of herself for coaxing the compliment, and then busied herself for a moment on her plate of food; a thick cut of meat, far too thick for one her age. She struggled for a short time until a butler standing over her shoulder stepped in and cut it for her.

A beauty in her time, Isabella had no doubt, the older woman was shrunken and wrinkled by now, and certainly a little slower than she once had been. But she had a presence about her even still, a woman of experience and wealth whom Isabella could not help but respect.

“I was being sincere this time,” Duncan spoke softly, so that only Isabella could hear.

“Excuse me?”

“What I said just now. About you and the dress. I was...” He shook his head at himself, as if suddenly feeling foolish. “I was being genuine. For a change,” he added.

“Oh.” She blinked. “I... I know you were.” She blinked again, knowing she should say something else but not sure what to. “It is appreciated.”

He smiled with appreciation, pleased with himself, and then went to his plate of meat. Still smiling softly as he cut into it and then tore into the flesh in ways that made Isabella shudder just a little bit.

That was twice this evening that Duncan had paid her a genuine compliment. Which also happened to be the first two times he had done so since they had started sleeping together. The ones he used to give her were simply a means of keeping her placid and complacent, which was the exact opposite of how he liked her nowadays.

Until tonight. Which suddenly explains why he is choosing to be so nice. Typical.

Lady Martell put her knife and fork down and reached for her cup of wine. She took a long sip and then cleared her throat noisily. “You Grace, I would be remiss if I didn’t comment on how much happier my grandson seems since the two of you wed. I suppose I should thank you for that.”

Isabella chuckled, thinking it to be a joke. “Just doing what I can.”

“I do not joke, Your Grace,” she said without a hint of humor. “Ever since that girl of yours – what was her name?” Duncan’s eyes widened at his grandmother and his face paled, but she didn't seem to notice. “Andrea? It is not important what it was. What is important is that I do not think I have seen you smile this much since before that nasty business came about.” She sighed and looked appreciatively at Isabella. “You’ve done a fine job on him, and for that I thank you. His mother certainly won’t,” she then chuckled to herself.

The table was dead silent.

Isabella didn’t know quite what to say. What girl? Who was Andrea and what had happened? And why did Duncan have a look on his face of such overwhelming dread that suggested his grandmother had asked for personal tips and demonstrations on how his wife had managed to make him so happy.

But it wasn’t that.

It was that name. The girl. A clear indication that whoever she was, Duncan did not want her mentioned or spoken about.

“Grandmother...” Duncan began with a stern look. “That is not something that we have discussed.” He continued to look warningly at her. “Nor should it be spoken about at the supper table.”

His grandmother frowned. “Have you not...” She looked between the two and sighed. “Do you want my advice to a successful marriage?”

“I would rather you did not,” Duncan said.

She ignored him. “No secrets. As soon as one of you starts keeping secrets, the entire foundation crumbles like a castle made on sand.” She picked up her knife and fork and began to cut at her meat again. “Or what do I know,” she mumbled. “I was only married for fifty years...” And again, a butler stepped in to help her cut through the meat.

Duncan was grimacing at Isabella, apparently distraught with worry that she might want to know more about what had happened and who that girl was. That she might even be angry with him!

The truth was confronting for Isabella because she knew deep down that she should not have cared one way or the other. It was not as if she and the Duke had a relationship that revolved around secret telling and personal revelations and deep conversations. They didn’t share. They were not open with one another. Why, try as she might, Isabella could not think of a single instance where it might have been appropriate for Duncan to tell her one of his most intimate secrets.

She should not have cared… but she still did. Yes, their relationship was volatile and aggressive and without real substance, but it was also more than that. Her mind wandered to those intimate moments the two always shared after their aggression. When Duncan would hold her and care for her and make certain that she was comfortable and that he hadn’t gone too far.

It was hard to admit but a part of Isabella coveted these moments. Yes, it was easy to pretend that all she wished for was the passionate sex that had become a staple of their marriage. But the softer side of her husband was, in her mind, the real him. That which came out once the beast had been properly sated. A side of him she didn’t know nearly well enough.

This marriage was surface level. Isabella frowned at the thought as she turned and looked at her husband – he was concentrating on his food now, determined to pretend nothing had been said. A brooding figure, large and intimidating in stature, classically handsome features, and a darkness to him that she did not know nearly as well as she might have liked.

It was in that moment when Isabella decided this to be a problem, and she needed to do something about it. The only question was, would her husband even want to?

“So, Your Grace,” Lady Martell began suddenly. “What is it that you do?”

“Excuse me?”

“Do, girl?” she said as if she thought Isabella stupid. “What is it that you do. Your interests? Your hobbies? All ladies should have a hobby.”

“Oh.” She blinked nervously, feeling herself grow warm with anxiety. The question was an easy one to answer, but she was not so certain that she should. Certainly, Lady Martell would not like it. And she was sure her husband would not.

However, how could she possibly know that? Knowing so little about him. Again, that desire to do something about the shallowness of this relationship reared its head and this time, Isabella took a chance.

“I enjoy studying,” she said with certainty as she picked up her cup of wine and took a sip.

“Studying?” Lady Martell barked. “Studying what? What do you mean?”

Isabella shrugged. “Many things. Truthfully, I enjoy learning.”

“Really?” Duncan frowned, while also sounding impressed. At the very least, intrigued.

“The sciences are my favorite,” she continued, taking confidence from the look Duncan wore as he looked at her with interest. “Etymology and Ornithology are the two which I find...” she blushed furiously, the ridiculousness of her words suddenly hitting her. “Find most fascinating,” she finished weakly.

“Really?” Duncan looked as if he could not believe it. “Studying? You enjoy sitting in your room, reading books all day? About bugs and birds?”

A slight flair of anger. “I am surprised that you know what etymology and ornithology are.”

Surprisingly, Duncan laughed, and his smile was apologetic. “I was not trying to tease, I promise. I was just surprised, that is all. It is not often that a lady devotes her time to study and expanding her mind.”

She shrugged. “I am not any other lady.”

“No...” His smile reached his eyes as he looked at her. “You certainly are not.”

“Study?” Lady Martell barked at them. “A waste of time, I say. Have you considered learning the pianoforte!”

Isabella ignored Lady Martell this time, as did Duncan. It was a small moment. Fleeting in how quickly it came and then left. But Duncan had complimented her for the third time this evening and this time, Isabella was certain it was genuine.

It made her think about those earlier compliments. Could those have been genuine too? And if they were, what did that mean? Was it possible that Duncan was beginning to have similar thoughts as Isabella?

A smile was shared between the two and despite all that the two had done and shared in this past week, it was that moment right then when Isabella felt as close to her husband as she ever had.