“Ophelia…” he said in a whisper. “Are you…”
She shifted but did not wake. As she did, a strand of hair fell from her brow and settled on her nose. Adrian grimaced at the sight, unable to leave it alone, he gently reached forward and brushed the hair away.
“Hhmmm…” Ophelia said, her smile growing.
Adrian started and froze. He held his breath. He watched Ophelia, expecting her to wake up again. But she exhaled and stayed sleeping, the smile growing on her lips as if she knew that she was being watched over.
That is what I must do. As her husband, that is my duty.
With that thought in mind, Adrian did the only thing that made sense. He crouched down, scooped his arms under his sleeping wife, and he lifted her from the chair.
Her arms went around his neck as if on instinct. Her face nuzzled into his chest. Her heartbeat was soft, suggesting at how safe she felt. While Adrian’s heart began to race.
He carried her back to her room and laid her in bed. He pulled the covers over her, getting her comfortable. And then he stood over the bed and watched her sleep for a moment longer.
Adrian did not want this marriage. He did not ask for it. But it had happened and he was determined to make it work to the best of his abilities. But not for himself, because he did not careabout his own happiness or his own future. Rather, it was for Ophelia who he would try his hardest for.
She deserved more than him. She deserved the world. And while she would never have it, Adrian would make it that she did not loathe this marriage or hate what had happened to her.
Happiness… it was an abstract concept to Adrian, and maybe it always would be. But he would try his best to find it for Ophelia, and that was a silent promise he made as he left his wife sleeping alone.
CHAPTER 9
Having spent the night alone, having had many hours to think about her new circumstance, Ophelia woke up on the first day of her new life in a far worse mood than one might expect. Certainly, it was one that even Ophelia was not used to feeling, as even during the worst moments of her life, she always tried to look on the bright side.
That first morning, however, things were simply different.
She was woken up by her handmaiden; the young woman opened the curtains, which brought the morning sun into the room. The feel on Ophelia’s face should have seen her smile, but she answered it with a groan and a grimace.
“Oh, I am so sorry, Your Grace,” the handmaid apologized. “I did not mean to –”
“It is fine,” Ophelia said, forcing a smile because she did not want to take her bad mood out on someone who did not deserveit. “And thank you for waking me.” She looked about herself, frowning as a thought came to mind. “How did I… I do not remember falling asleep last night.”
“Excuse me, Your Grace?” The young handmaid blinked.
The last memory that Ophelia had of the previous evening was rocking Harriet to sleep. And while she had not intended to do so, she could have sworn that she’d fallen asleep in the chair.
I must have wandered back to my room in a daze. Strange that I do not remember.
“Oh, nothing,” she sighed, her mood plummeting even further. She was not herself; her mind was fractured, and Ophelia could not fathom how she might pull herself together. Or if such a thing was possible.
“I have had a bath drawn for you, Your Grace,” she was then told. “After which, breakfast will be ready when you wish for it.”
“Thank you.” Another forced smile as the handmaid hurried from the room.
Although Ophelia did not expect much from Adrian, she still expected something. That he would, at the very least, try and make this new arrangement not the worst of things. Last evening, for example, would it have killed him to have spent some time with her? To have shown her to her new home? Tohave given some indication that this new life of hers would not be a tragedy worthy of a Shakespearean play?
Clearly, this was not the case. Their marriage was as he had said, and as hard as Ophelia tried to reckon with that reality, it sat wrong with her, and her sour mood reflected it.
Thus, she took her time readying herself for breakfast. A long bath. She did not hurry to dress herself. And her visit to Harriet, to check the baby was well, lingered for close to an hour.
I should not grow so attached, even if Harriet is the only source of joy I can find in this place.
Finally, well over two hours after she woke, Ophelia made her way to breakfast. The table was set, and she took her place toward the end, nodding vaguely as the footman explained to her what was on offer, while asking what she wished to eat.
“I do not mind,” she sighed. “Whatever is easiest.”
“Ah…” The footman frowned. “I would… whatever you wish for, Your Grace. We are happy to be of service, of course.”