My Disfigured Duke Husband Helps Me Plot My Revenge
Chapter 132: Waiting for Him

Chapter 132: Waiting for Him

After seeing Desmond off despite how late it was, she returned to her room and warmed up in a bath.

The hug they shared made her feel like he had confessed a lot to her without having to utter a word. Their hearts were communicating for the first time and it seemed they were on the same page.

He silently gave her permission so that she could fall into him and he would catch her.

Since the maids left Leonor to sit in the bath for a while, she sank lower until the warm water was up to her chin.

The hug wouldn’t stop playing over and over again in her thoughts.

That wasn’t the touch of someone who wanted to be her friend. He broke his promise of never touching her because he hated seeing her cry.

One simple touch he initiated was enough to feel they were beyond the bounds of friendship. At the thoughts she was having, she knew she would feel warm regardless of whether she was in a bath or not.

While she didn’t have definitive confirmation of his feelings, he left her with enough to think about until he returned.

He said it would be five days.

Considering the last time he told her a time he would return, she felt she could hold him to his words. He never made promises he couldn’t keep, after all.

As she went through the next few days, Leonor could tell the maids were pleased to see her up and reading again.

New material from one of the other noble families in Montclair was helping her learn the ropes a bit more. The next step was having someone familiar with the position she held to answer her questions and explain the expectations the duchy had for her.

Unfortunately, all other duchesses in Castille were far away. They would have to search for an old noblewoman. Perhaps it would be someone retired from social life yet still well connected from where they observed. She was eager to be someone suitable for de Montclair.

Despite her thoughts being filled with Desmond and nervous about what he wanted to tell her when he returned, she immersed herself in studying and reading enough that it filled her days. When she took breaks from serious materials, she was back to enjoying romance novels and pretending the scenarios were possibilities in her life.

On the fifth day, when Desmond was set to return, Leonor asked the maids to take special care in getting her ready. She wanted to remind Desmond that he left her with high expectations the last time they spoke with one another.

Even if he was tired, she was so curious she might not let him rest before he would be able to explain anything to her.

When the maids were gone and Leonor was sitting at her vanity, staring at herself in the mirror and admiring the work put into her appearance, she stared at her empty neck and felt her heart begin to ache.

The last time she didn’t wear her locket was when she married.

Should she have considered that moment foreshadowing for what was to come?

Never would she have ever expected to look forward to Desmond’s presence. She wanted to be burdened by him and hear every thought that crossed his mind. She especially wanted him to remove the cloak and simply be himself in front of her so she could observe him as he was rather than who he was hiding.

Leonor whispered "I’m sorry" as if the ghost of Valerio hung over her shoulder. She didn’t know for sure whether he was dead or alive at that moment.

To cover the space on her neck, she reached into the jewelry box on her vanity and found the necklace with coral beads her husband bought her during the festival. Compared to what the treasury of de Montclair had inside of it, the necklace, while precious, was small, so it didn’t need guarding.

She put it on her neck and clasped it. When her hair surrounded the necklace, she appreciated how it was a shock of color against a sea of black hair. Her grey dress wasn’t particularly plain but the coral beads on the necklace made it seem a bit more special.

Considering Desmond didn’t tell her a definitive time he would return, she felt it wouldn’t hurt to get ready early.

As she walked towards the heart of the castle to enjoy a bit of tea, she wondered if he was as eager to see her as she was of him. Did what he wanted to tell her have to do what had been going on in his well-guarded heart?

All she hoped was for something to help her resolve the situation with Valerio once and for all. She needed a sign, perhaps the universe’s permission, to move on with her life. She was ready to know what attainable happiness was.

She didn’t regret waiting for Valerio and the memories were always something she would cherish. They would always mean something to her, but she felt she had waited for long enough.

Stephano all but told her to move on, after all. If things didn’t pan out exactly as she wanted them to, she would simply have to blame him.

For a mere hour, Leonor occupied herself with tea and a bit of reading letters. She had been receiving more invitations to various social events but she didn’t think she was quite ready to attend. She felt untrained compared to the vast majority of noble women.

If she were Anna, she would be ready for those types of situations.

The duchess was in the middle of one invitation when Gideon walked up to her.

"Your grace," he greeted politely. "A few men from his grace’s traveling party have arrived with items from Letum, would you like to greet them?"

"Desmond isn’t with them?" she asked.

"No, your grace," he answered. "He’s a short distance back. They had trouble on the road and one of the wagon’s wheels broke. He stayed back to ensure there weren’t any other unexpected occurrences."

She nodded, relieved it wasn’t something worse.

"I ought to greet them," she said. "Perhaps I can get a better understanding of what the front lines must have looked like by observing the items they bring."

"If you would like that," Gideon said.

He went with Leonora as she went to the front of the estate.

The butler noticed Leonor behaving happier than she had in quite a while. He wondered if something happened between his two masters, but he was always holding out hope for something that never seemed to happen.

The worst part was that he was not alone in wishing the two would find one another. The maids were always theorizing when the duke and duchess weren’t around.

Leonor lifted her skirts as she went down the front steps of the grand estate she was fortunate enough to call her home. There was a pep in her step and an easygoing smile on her face.

When she made it near the bottom, men were wearing military uniforms with de Montclair’s coat of arms on their chests and shoulders.

Even though they seemed worn out, they still paid their respects to the duchess.

"Welcome home," Leonor said to them. "I hope the journey wasn’t difficult."

One of the higher ranking men, based on his patches, walked forward and bowed to Leonor.

"We’ve been tasked with looking over this wagon," he said. "Would you like us to unload the items as planned? His grace has said most will remain at the estate."

Leonor felt she was given too much say in the process but she nodded at the man.

"Yes, please," she said. "His grace is not far behind, after all."

As the men unloaded wooden crates and various other items, Leonor noticed many in bad condition and a few others with burn marks on them. It only gave her a small view of what they had experienced on the front lines. Her heart ached for everyone affected by the morbidity of war.

However, there was a trunk they paid special attention to and Leonor walked forward in curiosity.

"What is all this?" she asked, hoping they would know more.

"These were his grace’s items," the man explained. "Things he wore and used every day. I’ve been told he wants to preserve these the most. After all, it was an integral time of his life."

They placed the trunk in front of Leonor and she touched the wood of the trunk. It was finely carved. She wondered who went through all the trouble to preserve something so beautiful during the war.

The most troubling sight was the scorched left side. As she came even closer, it smelled of smoke.

She hoped that what lay inside remained untouched.

Unable to help her curiosity, she opened the trunk, but she stumbled forward. Her eyebrows knit together in confusion.

The item sitting on the very top of the pile of things was a tattered cloak. As she shifted the item around as carefully as she could, she found the particular stitching of a shop in Burien.