She kissed back gently, clearly spent and he pulled her covers over her body as he told her,
“We will stop here for now and I will give you a week to prepare. I'd like you to feel more comfortable – accustomed to the idea of what it is we need to do. And then, we will consummate the marriage.”
Phoebe nodded, her eyes fluttering sleepily and he found himself stroking her hair for a moment before he rose to take his leave.
He stopped by the door, glanced back at her once, then he left the room.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Phoebe’s body felt quite strange the following morning.
Because she had never experienced the touch of a man before, she wanted to believe that it was due to the foreign nature of the sensations that she was unable to take her mind off it. But there was something about it that stuck with her.
As she went about her morning getting ready for the day ahead, she found that she could still feel him – his strong but gentle grip on her hips, his mouth over her skin, the taste of the kisses they shared. She could swear that her lips were still warm with the feeling of his on them.
It made it hard to focus on much else, and for a moment, she wondered if she even wanted to.
‘I will give you a week to prepare. I'd like you to feel more comfortable – accustomed to the idea of what it is we need to do. And then, we will consummate the marriage.’
His words made her feel somewhat conflicted for some reason. While she felt relieved that she would get some time to reconcile with the idea of what they were to do – whilst also acclimating to her new life – she couldn’t help but wonder if it would be better if they had simple gotten it over and done with.
“Good morning – Your Grace!” Jenny exclaimed, startled by the sight of her as she walked into the room. “I – ah – my apologies, Your Grace. I should have gotten up earlier to wake you up.”
Phoebe stared at her in confusion. “W-What do you mean? Why would you need to wake me up when I am perfectly capable of doing it myself?”
“That is my duty, Your Grace. I should be always be able to provide you with support. Because of my inadequacy, you had to get ready by yourself. I promise to do better, henceforth!”
“Oh,” Phoebe exhaled, flustered. “Oh, no, that will not be necessary, Jenny. I assure you, I can handle this task on my own. I have been doing it all my life.”
“Yes, but... you’re the duchess. Now you do not have to,” the maid pointed out delicately.
Phoebe understood what she meant, but her mind could not comprehend being so dependent to the point she could not get herself out of bed or dress herself.
“I-I was up at the crack of dawn because I could not sleep – likely because this was my first time in a new place. Perhaps I was a tad nervous. Do not worry, I am sure if you were to arrive tomorrow at the same time you did today, you will be able to help,” Phoebe suggested, feeling strangely persuaded to act according to the younger girl’s whims.
“Are you certain, Your Grace?” Jenny questioned hopefully.
“Yes,” Phoebe said, relenting whatever upper hand she might have held previously.
It was worth it to see Jenny’s spirits rise and she launched into a detailed explanation of how concerned the cook was because the duchess had skipped dinner and had put together the most delicious looking breakfast he could. It was good to focus on Jenny’s voice and her excited speech reminded Phoebe of Anna.
A sudden pang of homesickness sent small flashes of pain through her chest and she wondered how her siblings were faring without her.
They had always been together, ever since the passing of their parents – having resolved to stick by each other, no matter what. When they had made that promise, they were only small children, lost and grieving, unsure of what would come next for them.
And somehow, Phoebe felt like that now, in a house she was meant to adapt to, with a title she had never once dreamed would be hers. She felt immensely out of place as she was ledto a table laden with mouth-watering food in the largest dining room she had ever been in. It was all so foreign and new, leaving her feeling like a foundling with a future which was uncertain in some ways.
The sight of a single place arranged for a meal made her feel even worse somehow, because for a moment, she had hoped that there would be more beyond the convenient guidelines of their marriage.
“We hope the meal is to your liking, Your Grace. If there is anything that doesn’t suit your taste, please inform us, so that we know not to include it again,” Maude told her as Jenny served some food onto her plate.
“I am sure everything is as delicious as it all looks, thank you.” Phoebe said kindly as the generously laden plate was set before her.
As she ate, her eyes kept drifting to the other side of the table, unable to keep herself from wondering if this is what it would always be like. Her desire to skip dinner last night had not been contested either, which implied he likely had not been present for that meal either.
Everything was as delicious as she knew they would be, but Phoebe feared her mind was far too distracted to wholly enjoy it. Still, she felt the need to extend her gratitude in person.
“Your Grace!” Liam, the cook, gasped in surprise when Phoebe walked into the kitchen.