Page 22 of To Steal a Duchess

Chapter Six

They undertook a short carriage ride. The journey had been spent with Eloise endlessly asking where they were going, only to have silence, or a smirk, in response.

It infuriated her.

Until the carriage rolled to a stop, and her husband’s smirk turned into a more genuine smile.

“Welcome, Duchess,” the duke said, “to Oldcliff.”

Before her, a coastal village was alive with color and activity. Establishments lined the main thoroughfare, while a small market was set up near a towering statue of what looked to be a sailor. Stalls gave way to a small, rocky wall, the shore stretching out beyond. In the near distance, the sea glimmered beneath the sun.

Surprising her, the duke took Eloise’s arm and guided her through the thick of the crowd, past vendors selling jewelry, baked goods, and trinkets, until they reached a blue-colored tent near the sand.

“Your Grace?” Eloise asked, confused.

“Just…” He exhaled. “Just trust me.”

“Trust you?” Eloise countered, and though her voice was not unkind, it implied that it was utterly audacious that he would dare ask something of her like that. “You have not spoken to me in days, nor have you inquired about my settling into Oldcliff Hall. How can I trust a man who does not even care to spare half an hour for even one morning since our wedding to have breakfast with me? Or to even show me around his own estate?”

At her challenge, the duke flinched ever so slightly. It was barely there but she caught it in time. He had the decency to look a little ashamed before he cleared his throat, his chin lifting.

“I do believe it is Mrs. Hale’s job to give you the tour, and I have been rather busy, as you know.”

“I do not know.”

“Then I am telling you now,” he quipped smoothly. “And this, what I wish to show you, is not about us, nor any expectation we might have of one another. Which… well, I do believe we did not outline any aside from our rules. Truly, Duchess, you might have wasted your rule.”

“I believe I can have more than one,” she pointed out. “As you do.”

“Then, do you wish to institute breakfast together as a rule?” The way he asked her made her second-guess herself.

She had hoped to dine with her husband for at least one daily meal, but now, with his tone, as though he was mocking her, Eloise doubted her desire.

“I just…” She couldn’t find the words. Her shoulders slumped. “I suppose I thought I would see more of you by now. It would have been nice, at least, if you wanted to know if I was feeling all right in the mansion.”

“I have inquired,” the duke said, ever so casually, as though it didn’t make Eloise pause severely.

She never got a chance to demand why not simply ask her herself before he disappeared inside the tent, gone in a swish of fabric.

Eloise groaned, having no choice but to follow him. He infuriated her. He had saved her, yes, but he was all rigid rules and vague answers that left her wanting to know more. She knew she would not get more, not unless he deigned it.

Her thoughts quickly veered away from the duke the moment she stepped into the tent, and the secret passion Eloise had kept to herself was undoubtedly written on her face. She tried to neutralize it by the time her husband turned to look at her, but she couldn’t.

For a moment, she recalled her mother’s warning: to be the perfect wife they had primed her to be.

A perfect wife would not let her mouth fall open at what surrounded her in this tent; a perfect wife would not be taken by her husband to such a place at all, unless…

Unless he had figured something out.

“What…?” she whispered, trying to piece it together. Had he really gathered all this just from finding her with a book of maps?

Around her, the tent-boasted maps were pinned to the inside of the fabric wall. Others were in free-standing glass cases, old and curling, some of them even ripped at folded seams. Small bookshelves filled other spaces, crammed with travel journals and spines that spelled out continents, ship types, and other countries.

As she turned around, taking it all in, Eloise was aware of two male voices speaking in hushed tones on the far end of the tent. She was curious enough to think about going over to them, knowing one was the duke, but her attention snagged on a taller, glass enclosure.

It was wide but thin in depth, with several shelves brimming with model vessels, just like the ones Eloise had seen in the duke’s study and drawing room. Most of these ones were smaller, perhaps more trinkets and ornaments than collector models.

Eloise’s feet took her in the direction of it before she could stop herself.