My Disfigured Duke Husband Helps Me Plot My Revenge
Chapter 119: Hazy Memories

Chapter 119: Hazy Memories

After breakfast, Desmond couldn’t stave away the desire to see Leonor again and decided to allow Stephano to use his study to write a letter. If the king was occupied for a moment, he wouldn’t be there to glean further information about the state of the duke and duchess.

All Desmond wanted to do was measure her response to the night before. Did she remember? If she did, did she regret it?

Stephano was in his office and walked quickly down the long hallways, bypassing maids and Gideon who tried to stop him. His only response to the others was "later" before he would continue.

When he was about to round the corner to what would be Leonor’s wing, he overheard maids discussing something with each other.

"...Was sick this morning," one of them said, only the last part of the sentence reaching Desmond’s ears.

Based on their location, it wasn’t difficult to tell who they were referring to. He only needed bits of the conversation to understand the situation.

"Ah..."

"She looks a bit pale," the first maid said. "I will brew her some tea."

Desmond continued before he could be caught eavesdropping. His long strides took him to Leonor’s room. Since the door had just been closed, he knocked and waited for an answer.

While he wasn’t a patient person, he thought he had waited long enough for a response from his wife who was supposedly sick. She would have at least called out. He knocked loud enough for her to hear.

As he walked through the door, his eye searched for the woman he was so concerned about. When there was no sign of her on the bed except for turned-down blankets and a tray lacking food, his eye went elsewhere.

On the balcony, Leonor stood with her eyes shut and her robe around her shoulders as she allowed cool morning air to kiss her olive skin. The sun beat down on her as if it were made for only her and had missed her when it was over the other side of the valley.

If he could touch her skin the way the sun rays did, that’s all he would ever do. He longed for her to do the same to him, but he never wanted her to be burdened with him.

Knowing she would like the balcony, he gave her the largest room in the estate before he went to retrieve her as his wife. It paid off tremendously to witness her enjoying the area properly.

Not wanting to interrupt her peaceful situation, Desmond continued forward. He was about to call for her but his eye picked up something unusual.

The dip where her chemise hung loosely against her back, Desmond noticed red lines on her skin. His concern grew.

"What is that mark on your back?" he asked, forgoing any proper greeting.

His concern outweighed politeness. He forgot the state of her dress until she jumped and pulled the robe over her body to hide herself from him.

At her response, he wished he had a gentler voice. There was a time he did, but after breathing in such hot air, he didn’t know if it would ever be the same again.

"Why?" she asked, unable to conjure up something that would drive off his concern.

She seemed defensive even if she didn’t mean to be, she was just caught up in being walked in on.

"Are you hurting?" he asked, not understanding where she could have gotten hurt. "I heard your maid say you were sick and I wanted to be sure you were okay."

Realizing the quick words were probably instilling more panic than comfort, he slowed down.

"Please, let me see it," he practically whispered, the only way he knew how to make his voice softer.

Leonor turned towards the view once again. It didn’t do anything to calm her thoughts and curiosities about why he was so upset over marks from her clothing on her skin. She gave into his request by pushing the robe off her shoulders so her back could be revealed to him once more.

Right away, he knew that he was seeing the pattern of her clothing from the day before. The marks stopped exactly where her dress did. He wondered what the rest of her body looked like but didn’t dare ask for more.

"Your dress," he realized. "Is it uncomfortable? Did I request the wrong size?"

He began blaming himself instantly.

Leonor covered herself. The duke clearly couldn’t handle the sight of how her skin was indented because of her clothing.

While he walked around with scars covering most of his body, he worried about indentations on her. She thought it was sweet considering it didn’t hurt her.

"It fits perfectly," she said. "There isn’t a woman who wears a corset who doesn’t see the repercussions after taking it off at the end of the day." She let out a guilty laugh. "Although, I did sleep in mine so I’m sure my skin is a bit more indented than normal."

His lips parted in disbelief.

"Then it was my fault," he realized. "I should have taken better care of you."

He was spiraling and Leonor was shocked that he was so worried. Even if she couldn’t see most of his face, his tone gave it away.

"You took care of me yesterday more than enough," Leonor reminded him quickly, leaning her hands into the stone railing as she leaned backward. She felt shy and wanted to stay further away from him. "That was far more than I could ever ask of you."

"I didn’t take good enough care," he insisted. "And the thought of you being sick while you were in my care all day."

Despite his concerns, Leonor put her fingers over her mouth and a light giggle escaped.

"I can’t fault you for that," she said. "I feel tired but better than I did before."

"Good enough to look for jewelry?" Desmond asked, testing the water of how much she remembered.

Leonor’s eyes widened.

"I suppose I did tell you that, didn’t I?" she asked, embarrassed. "Anything after getting into the carriage is a bit hazy."

"A drunk request is still a request," he said, deciding to stop there.

"Anything else I should recall?" she asked.

"Not at the moment," Desmond said, retreating from the conversation altogether.

"If you insist," she said, though she wasn’t sure she believed him.

He didn’t know if he wanted her to remember or not. It seemed good enough that she was still willing to smile for him.

Before he could leave her room after confirming she was okay, he turned to her, half of his face shielded from view.

"Wear something more comfortable today," he uttered before walking out of the door and shutting it behind him.

Leonor offered a small smile before he could go.

He seemed to be alluding to something but she wasn’t quite sure. What could she have said to put the duke in such a concerned state?