Duke of Wicked Intentions by Harriet Caves

Chapter Ten

The next morning, Miranda woke up with a burning sense of determination. She was going to confront Benedict about where he’d been the night before, and remind him that he promised he wouldn’t do anything to shame her. As angry as she’d been when she had discovered him missing, she knew that the only way to make this marriage a livable, tolerable experience for them was if they had some level of mutual respect and understanding.

Once she was ready for the day, she left her room and made her way downstairs, expecting to find him at breakfast. She was sorely disappointed when she walked into the breakfast room and it wasn’t Benedict that she found there, but his mother. There was also another man she hadn’t seen before. He was standing by the table with the Dowager, discussing something with her. By his clothing, Miranda didn’t think he was a nobleman, but he wasn’t a mere servant, either.

The man glanced up at her entrance and pushed to his feet immediately. “Ah, Your Grace, good morning,” he said with a bow. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Cecil Bryant, His Grace’s Steward. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Miranda blinked, slightly caught off guard by his use of ‘Your Grace’, though she would have to get used to that now, she supposed.

When she had gathered her wits enough to respond, she smiled and said, “Good morning, Mr. Bryant. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”

“I was just informing Her Grace, the Dowager, about some improvements being made to the servant cottages. I am happy to share the progress of the work with you as well.”

“Yes, that would be fine, thank you,” she replied. Then, a little more hesitantly, she asked, “Mr. Bryant, you don’t by chance know where His Grace is this morning, do you?”

The steward frowned. “I’m afraid not, Your Grace.”

“Is it typical of him to disappear so early in the morning?”

Mr. Bryant looked suddenly uncomfortable and hesitated to answer. “It…it is not so much that he disappears early in the morning, Your Grace, but that he doesn’t make it home from the night before.”

Miranda’s gut twisted at the apparent confirmation of her fears the night before. “Where might he have gone that he would be out all night and not home yet?” She was afraid she knew the answer, but she needed to hear it spoken out loud.

Mr. Bryant opened his mouth as if to respond, but no words immediately came forth.

The Dowager, however, had no problem chiming in.

“My Dear Girl, I’m afraid my son can’t stay away from his various mistresses,” the woman declared with a cold smirk as she gazed at Miranda from her seat at the table. “It’s something you’ll have to become used to, as I doubt he will be willing to give them up.”

Her words sliced at Miranda in a way that was far more painful than she would ever admit. She had known the Dowager didn’t like her, and had objected to her and Benedict’s marriage, but seeing the woman now and experiencing the viciousness of her words, Miranda realized that her mother-in-law would very much enjoy making her miserable. It was an exhausting thought.

“Well, if you would please inform His Grace that I would like to speak to him when he has returned, I would greatly appreciate it,” she said as pleasantly as she could so as not to rise to the Dowager’s bait.

“Of course, Your Grace,” Mr. Bryant replied.

“Thank you.” She turned to walk out the door, but the Dowager’s voice rang across the room and stopped her.

“Will you not take breakfast with me, My Dear?”

The last thing she wanted was to spend any time alone with the Dowager, especially now that she was aware of just how much the woman disliked her.

Turning back, she kept her forced smile in place and answered, “I’m afraid I don’t have much of an appetite this morning. I believe all the excitement from yesterday is taking a bit of a toll. A stroll through the garden I think will be just the thing to make me feel better.”

“Oh dear, you aren’t sickly are you?” The Dowager looked slightly disgusted at the idea. “That’s truly the last thing my son needs. A sickly bride always in need of care.”

“I can assure you, Your Grace, I am not sickly,” Miranda spoke through clenched teeth. “Simply out of sorts. It could just be that I am not used to my new surroundings. I’m certain I will be just fine after my walk.”

“Well, I hope so,” the Dowager sighed. “Sickness and scandal right off the bat would be a rather unfortunate way to begin a marriage.”

“Indeed.” Miranda knew she had to get out of there right that moment, because she was seconds away from cracking and unleashing her temper on her mother-in-law. She had the sense to know that would be a very bad idea though, so she turned to leave without another word.

She hadn’t made it two steps out of the room when Mr. Bevens stepped into her path with a bow.

“Your Grace, I apologize for approaching you so suddenly, but I wanted to inform you that you have a visitor.”

Miranda’s heart sped up with excitement. “A visitor? Who is it?”

“Miss Ferguson, Your Grace.”

Miranda nearly cried out in her relief and eagerness to see her friend. “Oh, wonderful! Where is she?”

“The drawing room, Your Grace.”

Miranda was hurrying down the hall before the butler finished speaking. It took her a bit to find her way to the drawing room, but when she did, she shrieked in joy at the sight of Rowena.

Her friend, surprised by Miranda’s exuberance, was wide eyed when Miranda threw her arms around her in a tight hug.

“My goodness,” Rowena said breathlessly. “What has gotten into you?”

“I’m just so happy to see you,” Miranda declared, stepping back and holding onto Rowena’s shoulders.

Rowena’s smile was confused. “You just saw me yesterday.”

“Yes, well…it’s been quite a time here so far.”

“Oh?” Rowena frowned, concern sparking in her gaze. “Is everything all right? You aren’t being mistreated, are you?”

“No, no,” Miranda quickly replied, though she glanced over her shoulder at the doorway to make sure no one was passing by. “Why don’t we go out for a walk in the garden?”

“All right, if you’d like.” Before Rowena was done speaking, Miranda had a hold of her hand and was tugging her along.

After a bit of wandering through the maze-like Manor, they came outside and upon a large, lush, and beautiful garden. Pausing on the graveled drive, Miranda stared in awe at it for several moments, having never seen anything quite like it outside of a royal residence. There were dark-green shrubs and flower bushes of seemingly every color imaginable. Tall trees with full foliage offered islands of shadow and escape from the sun, and three large stone fountains stretched from one end of the garden to the other.

“My goodness, this is gorgeous,” Rowena gasped next to her.

Miranda nodded and knew she had found one of her favorite places on the Estate already and eagerly hurried along the path to cross into the welcoming greenery, still leading Rowena by the hand. Miranda released a breath, some of the tension draining from her shoulders as she took in the perfumed air and the gentle twittering of birds all around her.

As she walked, she was able to clear her head and think more clearly about her current predicament.

“All right, now, tell me what’s going on,” Rowena said with a knowing look. “You’re clearly anxious about something. Are you not settling in well here?”

Miranda released a heavy breath before confessing to Rowena what the Dowager had said to her this morning, once she’d realized the Duke wasn’t home. She told Rowena how the Dowager’s words had hurt her, but not quite as much as Benedict not being home. She was careful not to let slip the truth of her marriage, so Miranda explained the Duke’s absence by saying she had requested more time before they consummated the union.

“Oh, Miranda, I’m so sorry,” Rowena sighed once Miranda had finished her sad tale. “That is most definitely a bad start to things.”

Miranda nodded. “It is. I’m not sure what I should do about any of it.”

Rowena was silent for a moment and then tentatively said, “You may not like this, but I think you need to find a way to make peace with the Duke.”

Miranda hated to admit it, but she knew Rowena was right and she needed to find a way to make peace with Benedict and put the past to rest. Still, it wasn’t something she truly relished doing.

“How can I just let it go?” she groaned. “How do I just pretend our past never happened?”

“I know it won’t be easy,” Rowena said, rubbing Miranda’s arm in a comforting gesture. “But, if you aren’t able to form some sort of relationship, or partnership really, neither of you will ever find peace or happiness in this arrangement.”

“You’re right,” Miranda grumbled. “It’s just so…complicated.” Not least of all because she knew she couldn’t ask him to give up his other women…the thought of which made her stomach tighten in a way she didn’t like…but he needed to be far more discreet.

The two came upon a stone bench along the path and took a seat, the branches of a large elm stretching over them to shade them. From where they sat, they gazed back at the Manor. It was a truly magnificent, stately structure, built in the Roman style that had been so popular with the nobility. Honestly, if not for her husband and mother-in-law, this place would be a dream for Miranda to live in.

Commotion off in the distance caught her attention and she tore her gaze from the Manor toward a longer building down the way that she thought was likely the stable. Sure enough, at that moment her husband was riding up to the building, looking disheveled even from a distance. He dropped from his mount and handed the reins to a stable boy. Turning, he began making his way up to the Manor.

Miranda watched him, certain he wouldn’t be able to easily spot her and Rowena in the shadows of the elm. The details of his appearance came into greater focus as he came closer to the Manor. He looked tired. Exhausted, almost. As if he had been up all night. The collar of his shirt was unbuttoned and gaping, and she didn’t know where his cravat might be. Had he, perhaps, accidently left it back with the woman whose bed he had crawled out of that morning?

A dark emotion shot through her that she instantly recognized as jealousy. She hated that that she was experiencing that feeling. She wasn’t supposed to be jealous. Not because of him. No matter how badly she wished for it to be otherwise, however, it seemed a small part of her still did hold some sort of tenderness for him. That part of her was very foolish and would no doubt come to regret hanging onto him at all, but it wasn’t something she could easily rid herself of.

“What if I…tried? To be a decent wife to him, I mean,” she murmured.

Rowena took her hand and squeezed it. “I think that would make things much easier for you. I really do.”

Miranda had told herself she would let go of the past, and she was determined to see that promise through. Part of that could mean creating a warmer relationship with Benedict…perhaps even a friendship.

As if he could sense her nearby, he stopped just before he reached the Manor. A moment later, his eyes found hers where she was seated, and they stared at each other for several long seconds. Not knowing what else to do, Miranda raised her hand and gave him a small wave. He appeared startled by the gesture, and began to raise his arm as if to wave back. He caught himself, however, and let the limb fall back to his side. Turning, he quickly made his way into the house with another glance her way.

* * *

Convincing her husband to be friends with her – or at least friendly – proved to be a much harder task than she’d anticipated. It became clear to Miranda very quickly that he actively tried to avoid her. At first, she’d been offended, but then she began to wonder if he was avoiding her because she made him nervous, or even scared. That thought emboldened her actions, and she began to seek out ways to try and get closer to him.

Miranda had noticed that he liked to go out for rides in the morning, when he spent the night at home at least, so she would wait to have her breakfast until he’d returned and would have his. That lasted for a couple of days before he started avoiding the breakfast room all together.

Three days after the wedding, she’d gone to his study that afternoon to confront him directly, but he hadn’t been there. Confused, she’d hunted for him throughout the Manor and had finally discovered him tucked away in the library. She’d gone inside and pretended to search for a book so as not to immediately spook him away.

Acting as though she’d found what she’d been looking for, she snagged a random book from its shelf and crossed the room to where he was sitting with his own book.

“Good day, Your Grace,” she’d said, dropping into the chair across from him. “I see you’ve come to find a quiet place to be as well.”

He’d eyed her warily as she’d opened the book she’d chosen in her lap.

“Indeed,” he’d replied. “I came here hoping to be alone.”

She’d waved a hand at him. “Of course, don’t worry about me. I just came to read.”

For a moment, he’d looked tensed to leave despite her assurances, but at length relaxed enough that she’d known he was going to stay there with her. Hiding her relief, she’d pretended to give her attention to the book she’d picked. It had been a rather dull explanation of the East Indian Trading company’s route, as well as the various goods that were dragged along it. The book had been so dull, in fact, that it had put her to sleep.

By the time she’d woken up again, Benedict had been gone.

She’d berated herself for letting the opportunity slip through her fingers. She’d finally managed to get him alone in the same room and she’d ruined her chance because she’d chosen a dull book that had lulled her to sleep.

When Rowena came to visit her a few days later, the two sat out in the garden, under the shade of a flowering tree, and Miranda lamented the difficulty she was having catching her husband’s attention.

“I didn’t think it would be so hard,” she groaned. “Does he really dislike me so much that I can’t even get him to speak with me, just the two of us?”

Rowena gave her a sympathetic look. “I must admit, I’m rather surprised by his behavior as well. I’ve known couples to avoid each other, but to actively run away from you…it seems very strange.”

Miranda sighed and shook her head. “I’m at a loss. I don’t know what I should try next. Friendly conversation has gotten me nowhere, in those rare moments when I’m able to get any response from him at all. Inserting myself into the spaces he occupies just makes him flee from me. Do I corner him and demand that he interact with me? That seems counterproductive.”

Rowena appeared thoughtful for a moment. A few moments later, her eyes widened, as is in realization, but she pressed her lips together and didn’t say a word.

Miranda frowned. “What is it? Did you think of an idea?”

To her surprise, Rowena’s cheeks turned red. “Well, there is something that’s come to mind…but it’s…it’s rather forward–”

That made Miranda’s brows shoot up toward her hairline. “Forward? What does that mean?”

Rowena hesitated still to voice her thoughts. “Rowena!”

With a jolt, Rowena finally asked, “Have you considered…well…have you tried being intimate with him? Have you broached the topic of…consummation again?”

Miranda’s jaw dropped and she stared at Rowena in shock. Her friend appeared mortified that she’d broached such a delicate subject, but Miranda supposed she couldn’t blame her. After all, as far as Rowena knew, the only reason Miranda and Benedict hadn’t consummated their marriage was because Miranda had requested that they wait. She still hadn’t told Rowena that her marriage to Benedict wasn’t supposed to be a real one, and so couldn’t explain why asking her husband to be intimate with her wouldn’t quite work to bring them closer together.

Yet, something about the idea prodded at Miranda’s mind, nonetheless. She hated to admit it, but it still bothered her how easily Benedict had dismissed her as a bed partner. She was his wife…even if they didn’t strictly like each other, wasn’t it their duty to share a bed? At least every now and then?

There was a growing urge in her to prove to him that she was desirable. That she was a woman who he should want.

Perhaps Rowena’s idea isn’t so crazy after all.

What if she could make Benedict want her? Wouldn’t such intimacy help them have a more cordial relationship?

The idea of being a true wife to Benedict hadn’t really crossed her mind since their wedding day. Her cheeks warmed at the thought, though she had no real idea what it exactly looked like to…consummate.

I’ve seen farm animals mate. It can’t be much different from that.

Hopefully, though, there was significantly more emotion and tenderness when two people engaged in the act than when two animals did.

“I…I think you’re right, Rowena,” Miranda murmured at length. “I think that might be what the two of us need. That connection to help us grow closer.”

Rowena smiled and nodded. “And think if you had a child together? That would certainly solidify your union.” Miranda considered that as well, but she wasn’t sure she liked the idea of a child being what tethered them together.

That would be so much pressure on the poor thing.

“Naturally, I hope for a child from our union,” she replied, knowing such a thing was her duty now as a wife. “But…I think I would rather Benedict and I find a way to be together apart from whether or not we conceive. I think it would make for a more solid foundation for our marriage.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Rowena conceded. “Well, regardless, it seems as though you’ve settled on a new strategy, am I right?”

“I believe so,” Miranda murmured, though she wasn’t certain she really had the nerve to do what she now had in mind.

How exactly did one go about seducing one’s husband?