Page 82 of In Service to the Duke

Cynthia leaps up and sticks her finger in my face. “What you mean is, that man has already tanned your backside, and you enjoyed every minute of it.”

Emotions well up from deep within, things I never even fully admitted to myself. A sob wrenches from my throat as I hide my face in my hands.

“You see,” Teresa hisses, leaning forward and across to presumably smack Cynthia. “You have overwhelmed her.”

“No, I haven’t. She likes it. I know she does.”

“Just because you enjoy a crop on your backside doesn’t mean everyone else does,” Teresa chides.

“A crop?” I manage to choke out.

All three gazes fly toward me. “A crop, his hand, I’m sure I’ll enjoy much more when he stops being a stubborn arse-”

“That’s enough, Cynthia,” Teresa barks out. “You will not speak ill of a duke. That is a step too far.”

The words buzz about my ears, barely audible as my mind churns. “I’m not broken?”

Teresa and Cynthia stop their snipping and sit close to me once more, each gathering a hand in theirs. “No, my dear,” Teresa cajoles. “There are some of us who prefer a firmer touch from those we love. Not one thing is wrong with you. But, in that case, you’ll need this.”

Snapping her fingers, she motions toward Cynthia. With a gleeful squeak, she digs into her reticule to pull out yet another book. Kitty hunches down as she gathers both of them together.

“Fret not, my newest sister. Teresa and I are your friends and allies. We will answer whatever questions burn in your mind. Cynthia, Of course, will put in as much input as she can, but seeing as she still maintains her maidenhead, I doubt there’s much she can add.”

Next to me, the omega in question gives an unladylike snort. “Not for long. I plan to woo him while we are yet together here.”

Before another of them can say a word, a loud rap at the door brings a soft yelp to my lips. Harried, Kitty shoves the books under my pillow and stands back upright. Not a moment too soon.

The door swings open, and in walks the dowager duchess. A servant follows behind with a lovely blue dress. The three hang their heads and stifle a chuckle, each of them looking as if they are cats who ate a canary.

If the dowager duchess is suspicious in any way, however, she does not show it. With a soft smile, she motions for them to leave. They give one final squeeze to my shoulder before slipping out the door.

“Now, my child, it is time for you to get ready. I am sorry to say, but Robert has declined a honeymoon. He prefers to stay here and allow you to acclimate to your new role. But you will still have your trousseau. The servants will put it into your new room during the ceremony.”

And that’s when everything finally hits me. A new husband, a new room, a new role. Refusing to look toward the pillows where the books are hidden, I realize I have to find a way to hide these as well. Whatever am I supposed to do? Overwhelmed, I slump forward a little, my mind whirling as everything comes crashing in.

Everything is new. Everything is still a bit too much. Nothing about this feels right. Granted, I’ve been at the dowager duchess’s side since my heat broke, but somehow, I still don’t feel prepared.

In my mind, I’m still a Miss, not a Your Grace. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons I couldn’t go through with completely trapping him. I never thought of myself as anything other than who I was.

My mother, on the other hand, dreamed of a title since before she married my father. Unfortunately, as she tells it, no one would have her. It was far better to marry below her desired rank than end up as a spinster. Though I am disinclined to agree.

I'd much rather be a happy spinster than have my husband hate me so much he would deprive me of a honeymoon. No doubt in his mind, there is no need. Since I’m no longer a virgin, nothing special needs to happen after we wed.

Tears gather in my eyes, and I turn away before she can see them. The last thing I want is for her to know the wounds ripping open my soul. It’s bad enough I’ve already brought scandal to her doorstep.

The dowager duchess sits over by the window as the maid and I go back behind the screen. The dress is well made and beyond soft, but I can’t appreciate it. I was never one to really dream of my wedding day, not like others I knew.

But I know this isn’t how I wanted the day to go. In my mind, I didn’t care who it was I married as long as we were happy and in love. But I have neither. Blackport did care for me at one point, and if I wasn’t so naïve and stubborn, I would have clung to him when I had the chance.

Eventually, however, he would have found out about the scheme which put me in his path. At least this way we can start our union without that pall hanging over us. Maybe, in time, we can grow close again.

“Come out and let me see you.” My heart clenches as her frail voice carries over the screen.

It should be my mother here by my side as I prepare. But I’m grateful for someone who actually seems to care about me. Stepping out, I give her a soft smile as she gasps and claps her hands.

“I was so sure that color would work perfectly. It sets off your eyes in the most lovely fashion. Blue and brown always pair well together. Remember that.” Hobbling over, she runs her hand down my sleeve. “I dare say this should nearly match Robert’s eyes, too. You make a stunning bride, my dear.”

I nod, unable to speak. Emotion clogs my throat as my eyes burn again. Concern flits over her face as she gathers my hands in hers. “Today is a happy day. I hope these tears are because you possess too much joy that it’s spilling over.”