To Deceive A Duke

Chapter 41

Clarissa spends the carriage ride home silent in silence and shock, her soaked dress clinging to her skin. She peaks a look at her husband from under her lashes but neither of them says a word. They just sit there, cold and wet until the carriage finally arrives at Lygon Place. They step into the hallway when Mrs Hill rushes over to them, along with several confused and scared maids. Seeing the state that the duke and duchess are in, baths are immediately called for them, and Daniel and Clarissa are separated.

In the deliciously hot water, Clarissa sends Alice and her maids away, closing her eyes and replaying the kiss in her mind. She absent-mindedly raises her hand and presses her fingers to her lips, remembering how it felt as he held her close. The adrenaline and shock mixed with the heat of the embrace skyrocketed the intensity of the moment and she cannot get it off her mind. What does it mean? Why did she kiss him? And why did he kiss her back? It was such an unexpected moment and it's confusing the hell out of her. You don't kiss people you don't have a shred of attraction for unless there are copious amounts of alcohol involved, and she and Daniel were both sober as a judge.

Her thoughts run around in her head until the water has turned lukewarm and then she finally gets out of the bath. She slips on a light shift dress and wraps a fluffy robe around her. She ties her wet hair into a bun and pulls on a pair of slippers. She takes a quick look in the mirror and winces at her pale skin and dark eyes as she leaves the dressing room. She heads through her study and knocks on the double doors separating her from Daniel's room. She hears his deep voice calling her through so she tentatively opens the door and slips inside.

Daniel is slouched in one of the chairs in front of the fire, a glass in his hand. His silver eyes find her and darken. He gestures to the empty chair in front of him so she walks over and sinks into it, crossing her ankles and leaning back. Like her, he has bathed and dressed but he is only wearing a pair of linen trousers under his dark navy robe and the middle of his torso on full display. Clarissa pulls her eyes away from his carved abs, temptation flickering in her mind, and locks her fingers together.

"I wasn't entirely truthful with you earlier," She begins, "I may have mentioned to your mother that we haven't seen a great deal of each other, but that wasn't a plea to change to it," She explains, trying to convince herself as well as him, "But you've avoided me for the last two weeks and I have no clue as to why. You cannot blame me for feeling such a way,"

She can't keep the accusation out of her tone as she surveys him. He raises the glass to his lips and takes a long drink. His eyebrows are pulled together as he looks away from her, staring at the opposite wall.

"I know you never wanted this marriage, or me," He says, lowly, "Peter made it quite clear that you don't want anything to do with me and that you have only entered into this agreement due to your sense of duty. I didn't want to put any unnecessary strain on you,"

She scoffs, "So you thought that isolating me, abandoning me, deserting me was the best way to handle this?"

He scowls, chugging back the last of his drink. He slams the glass down on the table and glares at her, "What do you want from me? It's been a long day,"

"I want...I wanted someone to talk to, to eat meals with." Clarissa says, "To hopefully be my friend..."

"We can never be friends," He says darkly.

She grits her teeth at the blank look he is giving her and glowers, "Fine, but can you at least acknowledge my existence? Or is that too much to ask?" Her nails dig into the armrests as she fights to control her temper, "Because my life has been ripped away from me and I am alone. You have forbidden half my family to visit me and I cannot step outside to visit my friends without being hounded by person after person, all wanting something from me. Do you have any idea what that is like?"