My Disfigured Duke Husband Helps Me Plot My Revenge
Chapter 135: In Hiding

Chapter 135: In Hiding

The day felt long but evening finally fell over Montclair. Summers were Leonor’s favorite because there was much more she could do without lighting a candle.

However, that day she felt strange.

With emotions raw and in every direction, each noise caused her to jump from where she sat on her couch staring at nothingness.

Leonor’s sapphire eyes occasionally glanced at the cloak on her floor. Her face felt hot and she would look away quickly.

Thinking of Valerio made feelings sprout within her that she hadn’t had to deal with for a long time. She thought she had outgrown shyness. Men didn’t make her nervous but she felt small and inexperienced the way she did when she was 16.

Amongst her nerves, she was still angry he tried to hold the truth from her for so long. Did he not know how much she must be plagued at the very thought of him? Had anyone ever told him that she hadn’t been able to let go?

For six years she held on. If Stephano told Desmond anything, she hoped it was that.

As she calmed down, she felt a bit bad about calling the king a liar, knowing there was likely a good reason he held onto such a secret. She wondered how he would respond to her letter.

Stephano and Desmond both lied with her best intentions in mind but it felt cruel and unfair no matter how she looked at it. All three of them were together for a month but they still never managed to let her in on the truth.

When she poured her heart out to Stephano, he remained tight-lipped. He told her to go forth with her feelings for Desmond. It was no wonder.

There was no way he didn’t know Desmond and Valerio were the same.

The king heard about how divided she was. She felt like she was betraying Valerio. Would he not consider that?

She behaved in a way that communicated she had Desmond’s best intentions at heart. There wasn’t a bit of her that wanted to use him. While she was afraid of him at first, she never looked upon him with disgust, only fear.

If they saw it from her perspective, they would understand how unsettling it would be for any woman to meet her future husband on the day they were meant to be married. People said he was cold and unpredictable.

She only found out through observation and questioning that he was quiet because it hurt to speak. He didn’t want to interact with others because everyone had preconceived notions.

They were two idiots under the same roof with volumes of lies between them.

She even confessed to loving another. It made so much sense that he wasn’t more angry. After all, the confession was about him and she said it to his face.

She began getting frustrated again, knowing she couldn’t do anything about it.

Pulling her from her thoughts, there was a light knock at the door and Leonor stared for a moment.

"What is it?" Leonor asked.

"Your grace, Gideon said that you aren’t feeling well," Beth said, her soft and polite voice not carrying very far. Leonor had to focus hard to hear her. "Do you need anything?"

Leonor thought of it for a moment. Tea sounded good but the thought of stomaching anything sounded awful. She didn’t know if anything would make it past her throat before it would come up again. She was a ball of nerves and anxiety.

She wanted Desmond to return so she could talk to him. She wanted him to stay far away so she wouldn’t have to feel all the intense feelings he would bring out of her.

"I don’t require anything," Leonor called back. "I want to rest."

"Please call if that changes, your grace," Beth said and quickly departed.

Leonor felt that all of her energy went into that conversation, for some reason. She slumped after the maid left.

Perhaps it was time for her to retire for the evening. If she was going to sit still and do nothing because she was so deep in thought, she might as well lay somewhere comfortable.

As Leonor walked past her vanity, she caught herself in the mirror wearing a dress she thought Desmond would like.

It was a dusty rose with a square neck and sheer sleeves gathered at four points on her arms while the rest fell over her hands. Her skirts were thick but the material of each layer was thin so she could feel a bit of air on her legs while she walked.

She turned to the side and smoothed from her chest to her waist.

Did Desmond like this version of herself? Perhaps he preferred the quieter and more refined version of her. While she went to the Academy, she found a wilder side to herself and the strength that came with it if she embraced it.

She would never be a mage if she didn’t drop the proper mannerisms instilled by so many years of etiquette lessons to be bearable around nobles. There was always the fear that she would be wild and free like her mother.

As insecurities she wasn’t familiar with crept in, Leonor had to sigh and step away. She would get into a nightgown that wouldn’t hold her waist so tightly and didn’t constrict her breasts.

When her dress was put away and the soft white nightgown was over her body, she headed toward her bed.

Before she could even pull the blankets down, her heart nearly leaped out of her chest when there was a knock at her door.

Immediately, her heart began to race and she stared at the door.

Silence.

"Leonor, it’s me," Desmond’s rough voice reached her easily and she felt a bit bad making him speak loudly to talk to her.

Except she still didn’t want to see him.

She walked towards the entrance of her room and put a hand on the closed door.

"Don’t come in," Leonor responded despite knowing her voice was trembling. "I need to be alone right now."