Duke Desmond sprang from his seat when Leonor excused herself, saying she was tired. He pulled out her chair for her and bid her goodnight.
He had only just poured another glass of wine so he decided to stay a while longer and discuss the upcoming days with a couple of his most trusted - Gideon being one of them.
Since he had only just moved permanently to Montclair, he was going to have his work cut out for him when he returned. It was an unexpected plan to leave for Burien for over a week so he could get married. Yet when he found that it was an option for him, he jumped at the opportunity.
However, now that Leonor was in his grasp, he found the situation so difficult to come to terms with. The desire to embrace her like before only grew each time he laid his eye on her. He would do anything to elicit more smiles from her yet it felt like an impossible endeavor considering the reality of his appearance.
To make her more comfortable, he decided to be more attentive. That was something he knew she didn’t get much of in Burien. He selfishly wanted her to be happiest in his duchy.
Discussions came to a close and he found himself feeling heavy. Even if he pretended to be well-adjusted to his life, riding on a horse for so many hours was still taxing on his body. His energy wasn’t nearly what it was before.
He excused himself and walked slowly down the hallway and towards the room his items had been placed inside by a soldier. The maids assured them that all rooms were accounted for and told him where he could rest.
As he opened the door to his room, he was surprised to see it cast in darkness. Maids were normally aware enough to at least give a little bit of light to someone who was seeking their bed.
Regardless, he removed his hood and put a hand over his more than half-bandaged face. He was eager to remove his bandages and feel more normal as he slept.
The Duke’s large hand closed, pulling his bandages with it but he heard Leonor call to him and he froze before he could reveal the disgusting reality of his face to her.
"My lady," he responded to her softly, though there was evident surprise in his voice. "Have I walked into the wrong room?"
However, his question was answered as his green eye drifted to where his items sat next to a bookshelf further in the room.
The man realized his mistake as he let out a sharp sigh. It wasn’t as if he had told any of the maids that he and his wife wouldn’t share a room. They were a newlywed couple with quite a few assumptions being thrown to them.
"I didn’t notice your items before," Leonor reasoned. "I could sleep on the couch."
"I ought to," Desmond responded quickly.
It was his oversight that he ought to take responsibility for, he reasoned.
However, Leonor couldn’t get the image of him curling up on a small couch to try and rest after being on horseback all day. She was in a carriage the entire day and even fell asleep at one point.
"Your grace," Leonor called to him softly. "Lay in the bed. It wouldn’t be fair to force you onto a couch when you were on a horse much of the day. We’re both tired and the bed is large."
While Leonor wasn’t eager to sleep next to a man who was as good as a stranger to her, she reasoned that she would have to get used to being by his side anyway. She had no choice but to rely on him.
She would hang his words of never touching her over his head if she had to. Even if he was a quiet and peculiar man, he at least seemed to be honorable.
The best she could do was roll to her side so she was facing away from him. It was clear he wanted to keep himself hidden. She would afford him that much.
Desmond hadn’t removed his bandages but he felt unbelievably exposed. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness and, even with her back facing him, he wanted to run and hide.
"I will get dressed in the bathroom," he said, trying not to alarm her.
Since the room was smaller than the one they previously stayed in, she heard the duke bathe quickly before getting into clothing. It felt too intimate to hear someone she was so unfamiliar with in such a vulnerable state.
Leonor remained on her side until the Duke came back into the room.
The bed was so large that she didn’t feel him settle next to her, she only heard the blankets shift and a light sigh escape his lips when he was settled in.
"Goodnight, your grace," she said quietly, feeling it inappropriate not to at least acknowledge him.
Even though she hadn’t sensed violent intentions from him, she felt like a bunny that was hiding in a cave of wolves. How easy would it be for him to harm her with her back facing him?
She was more alert and reactive since her time at the Academy but she wasn’t sure of the man’s abilities. He was someone impressive to have been given such a high honor.
Leonor was lost in her thoughts, but when her focus returned to the man on the other side of the bed, she heard soft breathing. He must have been tired.
Mustering up all of her courage, Leonor rolled onto her back, counted to ten, and then rolled to her other side so she was facing the duke.
Her eyes had long since gotten used to the darkness of the room. The faint light of moonbeams dancing in the forest were enough to illuminate things for her anyway. Earlier she had pushed open the large curtains before climbing in bed so she could see the trees but it seemed multipurpose since the Duke had to share a bed with her.
She was surprised to see that, even in sleep, he held his robe shut with his hand. His large hand was closed and held the sides together so they wouldn’t fall open and reveal anything. The sapphire on the ring he wore from their marriage shone even in the darkness.
The sight of it made conflicting feelings rise inside of her.
Fortunately, it was lighter than the other hood he normally wore when they were traveling because she didn’t know how he would breathe otherwise.
The way he was desperate to hide himself from her made her wonder if it was her who needed protecting from him or if he was protecting himself from her. When he told her he would never touch her, he said it was because of the way she looked at him. It sent a stake into her heart realizing how he must feel most of the time.
It was reasonable to expect that the daughter of the crass Count Mikael would be as judgmental as her father.
She fell asleep facing him, wondering what he had heard of her. It further begged the question of why he would have chosen her if he figured she was someone who would harshly criticize his appearance.