Lady Ines Scandalous Hobby-Chapter 174 - Hundred And Seventy Four

The candles in the dining room had burned low, casting long, dancing shadows against the velvet wallpaper. The long table, usually a place of conversation, felt like a vast ocean separating Ines from the other end of the room.

It was already night. The windows were pitch black, reflecting the interior of the room.

Ines sat at the table. She picked at her roast chicken with a silver fork. Across from her sat Aunt Rowena, who was eating her meal with a hearty appetite, unbothered by the silence.

But the chair at the head of the table was empty.

Ines looked at the empty seat. The crystal goblet was untouched. The napkin was still folded into a crisp swan.

She put her fork down. The metallic clink echoed in the quiet room.

"Where is he?" Ines asked softly.

She looked at Aunt Rowena. She didn’t need to say a name. There was only one person missing.

Rowena wiped her mouth with a napkin. She sighed, a sound that was half-sympathy and half-resignation.

"He is busy in his study," Rowena replied. She took a sip of wine. "He didn’t finish his duties the last time he came. He left in a hurry for the wedding, remember? He dropped everything to run back to London for you. So now, there is a lot on his shoulders."

Rowena gestured with her hand, indicating a pile of invisible work.

"The tenants, the accounts, the harvest... the duchy does not sleep, even if the Duke wants to."

Ines frowned. She felt a pang of guilt. He had fallen behind because of her. Because of the scandal with Priscilla, because of the wedding.

"Has he eaten?" Ines asked, worry etched on her face.

"His food has been taken to his study an hour ago," Rowena replied reassuringly. "Don’t worry about it, my dear. He knows how to feed himself. Just go and have a good rest. He’ll join you soon."

Rowena smiled warmly. "You are still tired from the journey. Go to bed."

Ines looked at her plate. The chicken looked dry. The potatoes looked cold. She thought of Carcel alone in a room full of paper, hungry and tired.

She suddenly lost her appetite. Her stomach felt tight.

"I... I think I will," Ines said.

She stood up. She curtsied to Rowena.

"Excuse me, Aunt," she said.

Ines left the dining room. But she didn’t go to sleep. She went to their bedroom, changed into her nightgown, and sat by the window.

She waited.

The grandfather clock in the hall struck nine. Then ten. Then eleven.

The hours ticked by slowly. The moon rose higher in the sky.

Downstairs, in the west wing, the study was dim. The only light came from a lamp on the desk, illuminating a mountain of paperwork.

Carcel sat hunched over a heavy ledger. His cravat was undone, hanging loose around his neck. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing his forearms. He rubbed his forehead with ink-stained fingers. His eyes were burning with exhaustion.

Knock. Knock.

Carcel didn’t look up. He dipped his quill into the inkwell.

"Come in," he grunted.

The door opened. Lloyd walked in. He looked tired too, but he stood straight. He carried a stack of papers tied with a red ribbon.

"Your Grace," Lloyd said. "These are the reports you asked for in the afternoon regarding the timber sales. They are..."

Carcel wasn’t listening.

He had stopped writing. The quill hovered over the paper, a drop of ink falling onto the page unnoticed.

He had looked up from the ledger, but not at Lloyd.

He was staring at the door.

His expression, which had been hard and focused a moment ago, softened instantly. The tension in his jaw vanished. His eyes widened slightly.

"Ines," he said. It was a breath, a whisper of relief.

Lloyd froze. He turned around.

Ines was standing by the door. She looked like a vision in the dimly lit hallway. She was wearing a white nightgown that flowed around her feet. A thick woolen shawl was draped over her shoulder, covering the strap of her nightgown and her upper body that were exposed to the cold draft of the house. Her hair was loose, framing her face in soft waves.

Carcel didn’t look at the report Lloyd was holding. He didn’t care about timber sales. Then he turned to Lloyd.

"You may leave," Carcel commanded. His voice was gentle, but firm.

Lloyd blinked. He looked at the report, then at the Duke, then at the Duchess. He smiled a tiny, knowing smile.

"Yes, Your Grace," Lloyd said. "Goodnight."

Lloyd bowed to Ines and slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Ines stood there for a moment. Then, she walked forward.

"You have been busy lately," she said softly.

She walked towards him. The study smelled of old paper. It was a masculine room, serious and cold. But her presence brought warmth into it.

She walked around the large desk. She stood next to his chair.

Her eyes caught his food.

On a side table, a silver tray sat neglected. The cover was still on the plate. The wine glass was full.

"It’s already late," Ines chastised gently, touching the cold metal cover. "And you haven’t eaten anything."

Carcel blinked. He looked outside the window. It was pitch black. He reached into his vest and pulled out his gold pocket watch. He clicked it open.

Eleven thirty. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

It was indeed late. He had lost track of time completely.

He looked up at her. He saw the concern in her eyes. He saw that she was awake when she should have been sleeping.

"I’m sorry, my love," Carcel said, his voice rough with fatigue. He reached out and took her hand. "I was so engrossed in work I forgot. Forgive me."

Ines sighed. She shook her head.

She didn’t scold him further. Instead, she moved.

Ines set her shawl on his desk, letting it slide off her shoulders. Then, she picked up the heavy tray of food.

She walked to his chair.

"Move back," she instructed.

Carcel obeyed instinctively, sliding his chair back from the desk.

Ines didn’t pull up another chair. Instead, she stepped between his legs. She settled herself on his lap.

Carcel let out a surprised breath as her weight settled on his thighs. Her soft nightgown brushed against his trousers. She leaned back against his arm, balancing the tray on her own knees.

It was the most relaxing thing he had felt all day.

She lifted the silver cover. Underneath, there was cold roast beef, bread, and some cheese. It wasn’t hot, but it was food.

She picked up a fork. She stabbed a piece of beef.

"It is still slightly warm," she said.

She held the food to his mouth.

"Ahhh," she said, opening her own mouth slightly as if feeding a child.

Carcel smiled. The exhaustion in his eyes melted away. He opened his mouth.

She fed him.

He chewed slowly, tasting the food for the first time. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until that moment.

Ines watched him eat. She reached up with her free hand. She pulled back the strands of hair that had fallen onto his face, tucking them behind his ear. Her fingers lingered on his cheek, her thumb brushing his skin.

"You need to take care of yourself," she whispered. "The duchy needs you, but I need you more."

Carcel swallowed. He leaned his face into her hand, kissing her palm.

She stabbed a piece of cheese and a piece of bread.

She lowered the next bite toward him.

"Have you eaten?" Carcel asked before taking it.

He looked at her closely. He noticed that she looked pale. He noticed that she was watching the food with a subtle hunger.

Ines paused. The fork hovered in the air.

"No," she admitted quietly. "I... I sat at the table with Aunt Rowena. But the chair was empty."

She looked down at the tray.

"I lost my appetite," she said. "I couldn’t eat while knowing you were here alone."

Carcel’s face fell. He looked sad. He felt a sharp pang of guilt in his chest. He had made her worry. He had made her go hungry on her first night in her new home.

"It was because of me, right?" Carcel asked softly.

Ines didn’t answer. She just looked at him with those big, expressive eyes. The silence was answer enough.

Carcel let out a sigh. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her tighter against him. He rested his forehead against her shoulder.

"I’m sorry," he murmured into her neck. "I am a terrible husband. I made you starve."

He pulled back to look at her.

"You can punish me," he offered seriously. "Anything you want. I deserve it."

Ines looked at him. She saw his sincerity. She saw his love.

A small smile played on her lips. Her eyes twinkled in the lamplight.

"Okay," Ines said. "I have a punishment in mind."

Carcel braced himself. "Name it."

"Then you have to feed me," Ines declared. "We will have to finish this plate of food together. Every last crumb."

Carcel blinked. Then, he smiled. It was a smile of pure relief and affection.

"That," Carcel said, taking the fork from her hand, "is a punishment I will gladly accept."

He stabbed a piece of the beef—the best piece left on the plate.

"Open," he commanded softly.

Ines opened her mouth. He fed her. She chewed, humming happily as the flavor hit her tongue. Her appetite returned instantly now that she was in his arms.

"Delicious," she said.

"My turn," Carcel said.

Ines picked up a piece of cheese with her fingers and popped it into his mouth. He bit her finger gently, making her giggle.

They sat there in the quiet study, surrounded by stacks of boring reports and serious ledgers. They took turns feeding each other, sharing the cold meal as if it were a royal banquet.

"One for the Duke," Ines said, offering him bread.

"And one for the Duchess," Carcel replied, offering her a grape.

The problems of the estate were still there. The roof still needed fixing. The timber still needed to be sold. But for now, in the circle of lamplight, nothing mattered but the two of them, sharing sustenance and love in the quiet of the night.

L