Page 48 of Her Mysterious Duke


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Frustration flared within Joanna, pushing her to assert herself. “No, Kenneth, I will not leave,” she declared, her voice steady with resolve. She wedged her foot firmly between the door and the frame, a physical barrier against his attempt to shut her out.

The tension in the air crackled as their eyes met, a silent battle of wills.

“Kindly remove your foot,” Kenneth growled.

A part of Joanna knew she should do just that. It was the ladylike thing to do. In fact, coming here uninvited and attempting to force her way in were as far from ladylike as one could get. Still, she was here and she was not leaving, no matter what her tutors at the finishing school or her parents might say.

“I won’t stand for your odd behavior any longer,” Joanna proclaimed, her tone firm. She pushed the door with her right hand, and to her relief, Kenneth stepped back, dropping his shoulders as she entered.

“You have no right to barge into my home,” he protested.

“And you have no right to treat me like this,” she fired back.

Fueled by worry and indignation, she stepped into the middle of the dark room, determined to get the answers she needed.

Alas, she was taken aback once more by the room’s appearance. Like elsewhere in the house, the curtains were drawn, but cold air drifted in through the open windows. The hearth was bare, and the pervasive scent of lye hinted at recent scrubbing.

The armchair was laden with pillows, and a blanket lay on the floor. Her chamber at times looked like this, but her blankets were strategically placed for Rudy… though Kenneth had no pets.

As she looked at him, she realized this was the first time she’d seen him out of his customary formal attire. He wore just a banyan over a pair of wrinkled breeches and looked as though he’d not taken them off in some time. His face was covered in more stubble than she was accustomed to, and an untouched plate of food lay on a side table, along with several glasses, one half filled with amber liquid.

Concern for his well-being overshadowed her initial anger.

“Kenneth, what is wrong? Why have you not responded to my letters? I was worried.”

As she cast a glance at the meticulously cleaned fireplace, an unsettling feeling gnawed at her, intensifying her need for answers.

Kenneth picked up the blanket and dropped it on the armchair before perching on the edge. He looked up at her, his eyes dull. “I beg your pardon for not responding. I should have. How are you? After the incident. I heard some people suffered from smoke inhalation for days after.”

“I am well. But you might have known this had you not left without saying goodbye. Or if you had replied to my messages. Did you even read them? For I gave an update on my health.” She crossed her arms, torn between her worry for him and her anger.

“I read them… As for that night, I had to go,” he replied vaguely.

“Go? Go where? Why? Kenneth, you owe me answers,” she demanded, dropping her arms.

“I do not owe you anything. We are not… anything,” he said. His words were like a dagger to her heart.

“We’re not anything? Is that why you think you can treat me like this? As if I am nothing? As if I do not matter?” She stared at him, realizing now what this was all about.

Her worst fear was coming to pass. He was ending their arrangement, robbing them of a future.

He dropped his head into his hands. “I did not mean that. You are not nothing—of course not. But we are… I am not in a condition to have this conversation.”

“What conversation?” She tapped her foot.

He looked up at her, and she saw the truth in his eyes. “You know which conversation,” he replied.

She sucked in air through her nose as a thought occurred to her. He wanted her to end their arrangement. He wanted her to be the one who said they could no longer continue their charade. Was he really such a coward?

Her hands curled into fists as she thought of her father and the way he had sent away the governess—no, how he hadhadher sent away, for she knew he hadn’t been the one to do the dirty work.

She knew her father well enough to know that he would have sent the housekeeper to do the deed. He was like that, a coward. And now, it seemed that Kenneth was the same.

She sneered, watching him squirm in his seat. “The one where we decide to part ways, you mean? Or rather where it becomes clearyouhave decided we must part ways. For I do not want to part ways.”

“Joanna,” he said softly.

“No, do not act as though I am the one at fault.”