Page 19 of Deviant Duchess
“There is no light,” she said softly, peering at the dark wood paneling where the windows would have been.
“Not like this,” Cedric agreed, going to the wood paneling, “However…”
She watched him dig his fingers into an invisible groove in the wood and lean hard to his left. The soft sound of small, rolling wheels filled the room, and as the panel was slid to the left, light flooded the room. Deborah gasped as the panel gave way to a narrow, long space filled with plants in brightly colored pots, a beautiful writing desk, and a small wrought iron table with two chairs; delicate metal strands resembling vines and leaves wrapped around each piece of the set.
“My mother. She needed a space that was her own. A place to tuck herself away when the world became too strenuous for her. So she created this. My father never knew that the wood paneling was more than a wall, so he never discovered it. It was her place of peace.”
Deborah turned to him, more than ever confused by the man she had just married.
He dropped his head as he put his hands behind his back and sighed.
“I am not a kind man, and I will never pretend to be. There is a delicacy required to be such, and I have found myself to never hold the talent. However, that does not mean that I lack understanding.”
Deborah only continued to stare at him warily.
“This is not where you would prefer to be,” he went on, stepping into the light, “You made that very clear. You also made it clear that I foiled your plans. A regrettable reality. To be honest, I thought I would always be the sort of man who joked harshly about the auction, criticized it. Not use it to my own benefit. My plans were disrupted as well, through no fault of your own. Yet here we both are. Stuck with one another, as some might say. And if there is any possibility of either of us finding contentment in such a situation, I propose we should take it.”
“Thank you,” Deborah said softly. She was not sure what else to say.
Cedric took a step closer as he nodded, then raised his head.
“I delegate some my responsibilities as the Duke to my steward,” he went on. “It is possible for you to do the same with our housekeeper. I will ask her to wait a few days, but at the very least, you do have to meet with her, and get a grasp on what is expected of you before you can delegate to her. I know that is not what you wish, but it is all I can offer.”
Deborah pressed her lips together, not sure how to handle the endearing side of Cedric. He was trying to help, even if his options were limited.
“My mother taught me how to run a household,” she explained, “It is the…social demands of my new position that I am wary of.”
Cedric grunted.
“In truth, I take little joy in such demands either,” he replied, “However, it must be done.”
Deborah nodded, knowing it was true.
“I will meet with the housekeeper in a few days then,” Deborah agreed after a while, “Once I am settled and have some more time to spend with Adeline. She and I need to find a routine before I can take on anything else.”
“Noted,” Cedric said, nodding his head.
“Now,” he said, taking a step back and clapping his hands, “Your luggage arrived a few hours before we did. Your things have been put away in that dressing room over there.”
He nodded to a door beside the large four-post bed, again almost identical to the one she’d slept in that first night.
“If you cannot find something, ring for your maid and I am sure she will help you find it. In fact, ring her for anything, and she will be happy to assist. Draw a bath. Bring you something to eat. Whatever you wish.”
Then he winked, a smirk on his full lips, and as if that were his way of finishing the conversation, he started walking toward the door.
“That is it?” She asked.
After his protests downstairs, she had expected more of a fight.
He paused and turned, his smirk growing into a mischievous yet handsome grin.
“Not unless there’s anything you would like my help with personally,” he remarked, raking his eyes down her body. “Which of course, I would be happy to lend you my hand. Or hands. Or mouth. Whatever you might need.”
Her annoyance firmly renewed, and her awe officially dissolved, she snatched the nearest item at hand- a small statue of acherub, and threw it at him. To her surprise, he caught it easily and chuckled as he placed it gently upon the nearby vanity.
“Not the right time. Understood,” he cheekily replied. He gave her another wink, and before she could think of a retort, Cedric reached the door and closed it between them.
“Never the right time!” She called, and she heard Cedric’s booming laugh through the wall, only serving to turn her annoyance into a blistering anger.
