His Duchess (His and Hers 1)

Thank God she had not been harmed by those kidnappers. Even so, he would make them pay for what they had done to his bride. Beginning tomorrow...

With only the dying fire to illuminate the room he couldn’t see much of her. Her silky breath wafted across his chest though and her left hand lay splayed upon his ribcage. He pulled his arm from beneath his head and covered her hand. The warm metal of her ring touched his palm. He traced the circle of gold and gems with his finger.

He hesitated but then answered her earlier question in a hushed voice. “I chose the ring because the emeralds reminded me of your vibrancy and vitality, and the diamonds of your clarity and beauty.”

Victoria lifted her head and propped her chin on his chest. Her blue eyes flickered once, then her lashes swept down and she again rested her cheek against his chest hair. On a whisper the words “thank you” escaped from her lips. Taviston tightened his arm around her and then settled in to sleep.

Marriage wasn’t so difficult after all. As he drifted off, he thought his wife might have whispered something else, but he couldn’t make out the words.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Weak sunlight struggled to penetrate the curtains. Victoria stretched and the sheet slid down, exposing her breasts to the cool air.

Flashing her eyes open, she snatched the sheet back up to her chin.

She was naked.

Sitting up slowly, she surveyed the room, finding no one present, not even Taviston. She smoothed her hand across the mattress to where he had lain. No heat remained there, indicating he must have risen a while ago.

The sun escaped briefly from a cloud and displayed a shimmer of white on the dark coverlet. Clasping the sheet to her chest she reached down and retrieved a snowy white dressing gown.

“Thank you, dear husband,” she said aloud to the empty room, vowing then and there to no longer grumble about Taviston’s thoughtfulness.

It was the day after her wedding. The day after her wedding night. Her lips curved upward, and she sank back onto the bed. After the splendor of last night, she had high hopes for the day, or rather, the rest of their married lives. She had never felt closer to another human being. Taviston might not love her, but he treated her so well she could not really complain.

Within an hour she had bathed and donned a simple yellow dress. A maid had thoughtfully brought up toast and tea, so Victoria felt ready to face her first day as a married lady.

As she stepped out into the hallway, she realized she had no idea what time it was or even where she was in the house. Most of Taviston’s relatives had stayed the night after the dinner party, so she really should find her new female family members and become better acquainted.

Luckily, a footman walked around the corner.

Victoria felt silly asking how to get downstairs, so she started with the least idiotic question. “Pardon me, but do you know the time?”

“Twelve o’clock, Your Grace.”

She stared right through the servant. He had called her “Your Grace.” She was a duchess. Somehow that fact had escaped her yesterday.

A duchess.

She nodded her head decisively. She could do it. Dragging in a deep breath, she lifted her chin and opened her mouth to ask the footman her second question.

But he was gone. He must have taken her nod for a dismissal.

No matter. As a duchess, surely she could find her way downstairs. She set off down the hall with confidence, and promptly became lost in a section of the house she had never seen before. Victoria roamed around, admiring the handsome furniture and stunning paintings that lined the hall, marveling that she lived here now—in a house one could get lost in.

Further along, a door stood ajar and as she approached, the sound of voices drifted out. Perhaps someone could direct her back to the main part of the house. Even better, perhaps it was Taviston.

She first recognized Peyton’s pleasing tone but her intention to announce herself died on her lips as her brother-in-law’s words reached her ears.

“What will you do with your unsuitable duchess now? If you find her domestic and social skills lacking you can’t possibly allow Mother to turn the household over to Victoria.”

Though Taviston’s deep, sensual voice sent a shiver down her spine, she could not decipher his reply. He must have been standing much further across the room.

Unsuitable? Lacking?

“Oh really?” Peyton said now.

She still couldn’t hear her husband’s response, but she was distracted anyway by a slow, dull throbbing in her heart. It seemed Taviston’s outward kindness toward her was not at all a true reflection of his feelings.