His Duchess (His and Hers 1)

He had expected righteous indignation. Instead, she whispered softly, “There is nothing here for me, but of course I cannot gainsay you.”

She had protected him from scandal with her “love match” charade and admitted she had made the arduous journey to the church yesterday to avoid scandal. Yet she was willing to desert him now?

Breaking his stance, he marched closer to her, the anger and hurt gaining strength within him with each step he took.

“You cannot do this, Victoria. Your place is here with me. A separation, especially one day after the wedding, is intolerable. Unacceptable.”

She paid no heed to his loud voice and intimidating stare, languidly waving a hand through the air. “That is your opinion. It is certainly acceptable to me and it is high time you faced the fact that gossip is unavoidable, especially where you and I are concerned.” Her gaze drifted from his face and focused back on the world outside the window. He could practically see icicles dangling from her tongue as she said, “Do remember, Taviston, I was only pretending to love you.”

He closed his eyes against the pain of that blow. Apparently, a soul could physically hurt.

“Victoria, please do not leave.” His eyes flew open as the words from his heart trampled over the words his brain had wished to say. He could force her to stay.

Blinking rapidly, she asked in a hushed voice, without turning her head, “Why on earth would you want me to stay when I am so unsuited to be your duchess?”

“What?”

Flying up out of her chair, she sent Arthur sailing through the air on a screech and Taviston staggering backwards on a grunt when the feline bounced off his stomach.

Hands on hips, flames glowing anew in her eyes she demanded, “Isn’t it true that you believe me incapable of being your duchess?”

Momentarily gratified that his fiery wife had returned, Taviston was nonetheless bewildered. “Of course I think you capable. You will make a fine duchess, Victoria.”

“Is that so? You don’t find my domestic training and social skills lacking?”

A chill swept over him. Where had she heard this?

He reached out and drew her nearer. “There is no doubt in my mind that you will succeed as Duchess as Taviston. You are capable of doing whatever you put your mind to. I believe in you.” I love you. He wanted so much to add that last but couldn’t get it passed his throat.

Her eyes searched his face. He knew she wanted to believe him. He prayed to God she would.

“So, you didn’t say those things? You never thought me unsuitable? I mean, you once called me scandalous, so I suppose it isn’t such a stretch that you also had this low opinion of me.” Confusion and disillusionment overtook her petite features.

Dropping his hands from her arms, he drove his fingers through his hair. “I— Well, I certainly didn’t—” He threw his hands in the air, not wanting to lie. “Yes, I did say those things. But, Victoria, I didn’t mean them. Well, at the time I did. But not now...” His voice trailed off as he watched her retreat, physically and emotionally.

Turning her back on him, she crossed the room. Her voice grew hard. “My, how the mighty fall, eh? You, the Duke of Taviston, are stuck with a scandal-prone and most unsuitable wife. One not even competent enough to host a dinner party.” She rounded on him. “How unfortunate for you.”

Her words did not come close to describing the emotions racking him. But she would never believe him now if he confessed his love. She’d certainly made it clear she didn’t love him.

“Please do not go.” Perhaps begging would get him somewhere. “We do not have to entertain.”

Victoria’s eyes narrowed considerably and Taviston instantly regretted those last words.

“You did lie, just now. You don’t think I will make a satisfactory hostess.” She ground the words out.

He smoothed a hand across his forehead as his head began to ache. “That is not—”

“We will see, Your Grace,” she interrupted. “We will see.” Her voice cracked with brittleness as she swept around him and called for the maid.

The girl timidly opened the dressing room door. “Yes, Your Grace?”

“Unpack these gowns at once. We will not be leaving for Taviston Hall.” She swung back towards Taviston and threw him a challenging, wrath-filled glare. “I will remain here in London and prove to this arrogant, patronizing ass that I am more than capable of being Duchess of Taviston.”

Oh God, he didn’t want to know what she meant by “prove.” But he couldn’t truthfully stop his heart from thumping joyfully in his chest. She was staying.

“Victoria—”

She ruthlessly cut him off again. “You may leave. Now. You are no longer welcome in this room.”