The Duke's Unwanted Second Wife

Damian shut the door with a soft click. He released Eilika’s hand, the warmth of his grip lingering on her skin for a moment longer than necessary.

”Word travels fast in Netham,” Damian said as he turned to face her. ”If the staff sees us keeping separate quarters, it will be the only thing the town gossips about by sunrise. We cannot afford that distraction right now.”

”I understand,” Eilika replied softly, her gaze flickering toward the bed that dominated the room, making her realize they had to sleep on that bed.

”Do we have to sleep on one bed?” Her eyes widened.

”Yes. Just don’t cross the side where I’ll be sleeping,” Damian stated.

”I can say the same to you,” Eilika retorted.

”You should use the washroom first,” he directed, his tone shifting back to softness.

Eilika nodded. She knelt by her luggage, carefully unlatching the leather straps to retrieve her silk nightdress and a fresh towel. As she disappeared into the washroom, Damian had stepped out to consult with the butler about dinner and the security of the manor.

Inside the washroom, the sound of splashing water filled the silence, but Eilika’s mind was elsewhere, wondering how she would manage to share such a small, private space with a man who had been a stranger to her since the day of their marriage.

Turning off the brass tap, Eilika patted her face dry with a soft towel, the cool water doing little to calm the heat in her cheeks. She carefully shed her heavy traveling dress and slipped into her silk nightdress, the fabric feeling light against her skin.

”I am going to share a bed with him,” she whispered to her reflection, her hand fluttering to the base of her throat.

When she finally gathered her courage and stepped back into the bedroom, she found Damian already settled. He had changed into less formal attire, a loose-fitting linen shirt and dark trousers, and was reclining against the headboard. The sight of him so relaxed in such an intimate setting made the room feel significantly smaller.

”You—you may use the washroom now,” Eilika said, clutching her discarded gown to her chest like a shield.

”I used the guest washroom down the hall while the butler was setting the table,” Damian replied, his dark eyes tracking her movement. ”Dinner is waiting for us in the parlor. As for Roman, he is deep in sleep; he will simply have a larger breakfast in the morning.”

”But what if he wakes in the night?” Eilika asked, her motherly instincts overriding her nervousness. ”He hasn’t eaten a proper meal since we left the mansion. He’s sleeping on an empty stomach.”

”We cannot wake him now,” Damian stated firmly, his voice low. ”If we disturb his sleep cycle, he will be restless for the remainder of the night.”

Eilika nodded, acknowledging the logic, though she still felt a pang of worry for the boy. She glanced down at her attire, her fingers tracing the lace of her sleeves. ”I am already in my nightdress. Is it appropriate to step out into the parlor for dinner like this?”

”Why? What is the issue with your nightdress? It seems perfectly decent to me,” Damian countered. He stood up and slid his feet into his leather slippers. ”There will be no one else at the table but us. You have no reason to worry.”

He began walking toward the door, not waiting for a further argument. After quickly tucking her traveling dress into the mahogany cupboard, Eilika followed him out.

The parlor was bathed in the warm, flickering glow of candlelight, and the dining table was laden with an array of steaming dishes, roasted meats, root vegetables, and fresh bread. Eilika took her seat across from Damian before began eating.

Eilika dabbed the silk napkin across her mouth, the rich flavors of the meal lost on her as her exhaustion deepened.

”You ate very little,” Damian noted, his keen eyes observing her plate.

”I am simply tired,” Eilika answered softly. ”The journey was longer than I anticipated.”

”Go to the room, then.” Damian lifted his crystal glass, the dark wine catching the candlelight as he took a slow sip. His icy gaze remained fixed on her, tracking her every movement.

Eilika offered a slight, formal bow before retreating from the parlor. Instead of heading straight to their shared bed, she detoured to Roman’s room. Finding him in a peaceful slumber, she felt a relief. She shut his door with a silent click and finally entered the master suite.

The bed felt immense. She lowered herself onto the left side, pulling the duvet up to her chin. Despite her fatigue, her mind was a whirlwind of nerves, and she clutched the fabric tightly, listening to the rhythmic ticking of the clock. Minutes stretched into what felt like hours, and she began to wonder if Damian intended to stay in the parlor all night.

Just as she considered sitting up to check on him when the door opened. Eilika tightly shut her eyes. She felt the mattress sunk and the duvet being pulled up lightly. Opening her one eye first, she found it was already dark in the room but only a dim lamp glowed.

She tilted her head slightly, her gaze landing on the broad expanse of his back. Damian had settled on his side, facing away from her. Even on the same mattress, the space between them felt vast.

’I wonder if this distance will ever truly close,’ she thought, shifting quietly to her right so she could watch the steady rise and fall of his shoulders.

She thought of the stories whispered of husbands who were cruel or indifferent, of marriages that felt like gilded cages.

’At least he is not abusive. Damian may be cold toward me but he listens well. Only his heart is reserved for his first wife. I hope he heals soon, at least, for his son,’ she thought in her mind.

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