Elizabeth knew she should say yes, but for some reason, the word simply wouldn’t part her lips. She didn’t feel comfortable marrying a man she had only known for two days, no matter how fine of a match it was. She knew he was right; marriages were often built upon the man and wife never having met once. But she had never wanted a marriage like that. In fact, had she ever wanted a marriage? She couldn’t recall fantasizing about it like other girls must have done.
“I need to think,” she said. “May I give you my answer at the end of the week?”
The Duke bowed slightly. “Of course. Now, let us enjoy the books.”
Together they walked through the stacks of books, occasionally picking one down and reading, sometimes just looking at the worn, ancient covers. Elizabeth found masses of French novels, which she picked up and looked over. She had enough French to read sentimental novels – some of her favorite novels were French – and she had a grand time reading over these. She began to amass a pile of a nearby table, which she would take back to her bedroom to read later. The Duke watched her with a sort of pride as she navigated the books. Whether it was pride for the books or pride for her, Elizabeth didn’t know. All she knew was that she liked the look in the Duke’s eyes. It was almost human. And a slight smile touched his otherwise straight-line lips.
“Are you having fun?” the Duke said when she had piled up around ten books.
“Yes, yes!” Elizabeth beamed. “I have never seen so many books. Even if I lived a hundred years, I would never be able to read so many books!”
“I know,” the Duke said. “It is a travesty, that people must go without books when I have so many which I rarely read.”
“You have lived it, though, haven’t you?”
“I have lived through much which is present in novels, yes,” the Duke said. “But I have not experienced all there is to experience. Who has?”
Elizabeth nodded and was about to pick up the books when the Duke rushed over and picked them up for her. She led him to her bedroom, and he walked in behind her and placed the books on the desk. “May I sit?” the Duke said.
Elizabeth nodded, and the Duke sat on the chair; she sat on the bed. They looked at each other for a time in silence. Elizabeth was feeling as though she had known this man her whole life. Perhaps it was because she so rarely attended social functions, or perhaps it was God’s interjection, but she felt as though she were not getting to know a person for the first time, but reacquainting with an old friend. The Duke regarded her with his hard face. “I hope the room is to your liking,” he said.
“Very much so,” Elizabeth said. “It is a lovely room.”
“And the hospitality? It suits you well, I trust.”
Elizabeth assured him that it did.
The Duke stared down at his hands and then back up at Elizabeth. “I must confess, Elizabeth, I have not much experience in wooing a woman. Most of my life has been spent fighting and serving the King. When it comes to matters of the heart, I am afraid I am damaged.”
Elizabeth wanted to go to him then and hold him in her arms. But that would be crossing a line she was not sure she wanted to cross. You have already kissed, you silly woman! What other line is there to cross! But couldn’t go to him so soon after the proposal; it would send a signal. Instead, she sighed and said: “I am damaged, too. The prospects for my family were good when I was young. I was the only girl of four boys, the youngest of the family. Then two of my brothers were killed in the war. The other is abroad; we don’t know where. After their deaths, Father started to gamble. He gambled my birthright away before I was fifteen, and since then I have been drawn inward. Within I cannot feel the pain that I so often feel without. Within, I am safe. It makes it difficult to interact with people. I find myself being cold just to keep people away. I only feel like I can tell you think because you are as cold as me, if not colder. I only feel I can tell you think because you are the Duke of Ice.”
“Is that what they call me? The Duke of Ice?”
“Some call you that, yes,” Elizabeth said.
“It is a silly nickname.”
“It is,” Elizabeth agreed.
“If I am cold,” the Duke said, “it is because the world has made me cold. I have watched all of my closest friends die. I have killed more men than a man should ever kill. I have lived amongst enemies for two years and found most of their people to be kind, just, not unlike our own people. I have been warped and ill-used by war. If I were not a Duke I would be a madman. As it is, people merely whisper of me in nicknames. I remember one day, I had been hiding in a barn. The farmer discovered me and made me leave. I did not blame him. If the army found me, they would punish him.