Free A Princely Dilemma by Elizabeth Rolls Page B

mean—’
    She changed course, quickening her step and skirting his outstretched hands. The slight hint of panic in her step, the sharply indrawn breath, halted him as nothing else could have. ‘No matter, sir. Fathers can be inconvenient creatures, I am sure. Good day.’ She reached the door and was through it in a froth of muslin skirts.
    Returning to his chair, he dropped his head back into his hands and swore. He hadn’t even thought that she might be in here. Women were supposed to prefer drawing rooms to libraries, weren’t they? But his new duchess loved books, judging by the pile she kept beside her bed, and he had politely made her free of the library when he brought her home yesterday. At least it had been his wife, rather than a maid dusting. Although he wasn’t entirely sure which would be worse—the servants’ inevitable gossip, or his bride’s stony face over the dinner table.
    Dinner… Oh, hell! It was Easter Sunday; they’d invited his immediate family, and her grandmother, for dinner. It might have been possible to speak with her, apologise, over dinner if it were just the two of them. He would have no hesitation in dismissing the footmen and dining alone with her. Impossible with guests. He’d have to speak with her before dinner.

Chapter Three
    Linnet, Duchess of Severn, having ordered a bath in front of the fire, wondered in what way her undoubtedly bourgeois behaviour had disgusted her aristocratic husband. Grandmère had made it all perfectly clear, instructing her on how to conduct herself in such a grand marriage. Clear enough until one tried to actually do it. It didn’t help that he called her Lin ette , rather than Lin net; Grandmère had been very clear that being named after a bird was not at all proper.
    Leaning back in the bath, she closed her eyes, listening to her maid, Bolt, moving about beyond the screen, laying out her evening clothes. She was never, or rarely, alone and yet she had never been so lonely in her life.
    She had never thought that she would have no one to talk to. Really talk to. She certainly couldn’t talk to Bolt, who had been her mother-in-law’s maid and clearly disapproved of her new mistress. She had thought that she would be able to talk to Severn, that they could be friends, even though he had not married her for love. But it seemed that Grandmère had been right.…
    ‘No demonstrations of affection… You must use his title always… Any display of vulgar enthusiasm will betray ill-breeding, and give him a disgust of you… A lady of consequence lies still and accepts her duty; she submits to her husband’s attentions quietly.’
    She hadn’t realised how difficult it would be to don the cloak of formal decorum. It didn’t feel at all like the gracious ease of manner that her grandmother told her was necessary; it felt stiff, and cold. Papa had always encouraged her to be affectionate, open in her manners. Not vulgar, of course, but relaxed. But she supposed Grandmère must know more about the aristocracy than Papa had. In fact, Papa had never intended such a grand match for her at all.
    ‘ Marry a fellow you can trust to be honest with you .’
    She swallowed. Severn had been completely honest with her about his reasons for offering for her hand—debts. His father’s crippling debts which, without her fortune, would have sunk the dukedom. He had been open about it all, not paying her flowery compliments, nor pretending that he had fallen head over heels in love. She shivered; he had not behaved at all like her cousin, Joseph. Joseph had fooled her completely. Courting her, paying compliments, buying her extravagant gifts, which it turned out had put him even further into debt. He had been all tender consideration, with the false light in his eyes a beacon to lure her to disaster. She had been so lonely with Papa gone, had wanted someone to love so desperately. Apparently Joseph didn’t even much like her.…
    ‘But, Father, she’s so plain!