Chapter 61 - A Night to Practice Being in Love

The palace luncheon loomed like a storm cloud over their evening, but Verbena was determined not to let nerves ruin her night. If they were going to put on a flawless performance as the perfectly in love duke and duchess, they needed practice—and what better way than a private dinner?

"Mrs. Clover, set the dining room for just the two of us tonight," Verbena said, her voice bright. "Candles, flowers, the works."

The maid blinked in surprise but quickly curtsied. "Of course, Your Grace."

Theodore leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "A romantic dinner? Are you trying to seduce me again?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's practice, Your Grace. If we're going to fool the entire court, we need to look natural when we flirt, laugh, and gaze lovingly into each other's eyes."

His smirk softened into something warmer. "And here I thought you just wanted to have dinner with your husband."

Her heart skipped—traitorous thing. "Don't read too much into it."

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The dining room was transformed by the time evening arrived. Candlelight flickered across polished silver, casting a warm glow on the table set for two. A soft floral scent filled the air, and gentle violin music drifted in from somewhere nearby.

Verbena took a seat, smoothing the folds of her dress. It wasn't anything extravagant—just a simple pale lilac gown, but it matched Theodore's silver waistcoat perfectly.

He arrived moments later, freshly bathed, hair slightly tousled in that way that made him look both dangerous and maddeningly attractive.

"If we were truly in love, I'd kiss your hand right now," Theodore said, stepping beside her chair.

She lifted her hand, daring him with her eyes. "Go ahead."

He bent, lips brushing her knuckles—not the cold, formal kiss of a duke greeting his duchess, but something slower, softer, lingering just a moment too long.

Her breath caught, and she cursed herself for being so easy to fluster. "Not bad," she said, voice slightly higher than she intended. "But a little more tenderness next time."

His smile was pure wickedness. "I'll keep that in mind."

They ate slowly, conversation flowing more easily than expected. They reminisced about their awkward first dinner as husband and wife, joked about Mrs. Clover's obsession with matching outfits, and shared stories about the palace gossip they were surely going to face tomorrow.

But somewhere between the teasing and laughter, something shifted.

Theodore poured her a glass of wine, his fingers brushing hers.

Verbena leaned in closer to tell a joke, their knees bumping beneath the table.

Every smile lasted a heartbeat longer than necessary. Every touch lingered just a little too long.

By the time dessert arrived—a delicate cream pastry drizzled with honey—Verbena felt flushed, and it had nothing to do with the wine.

"If we were a real couple," she said softly, "you'd probably feed me a bite of this."

Theodore's gaze darkened. "Shall we practice?"

Before she could protest, he scooped up a bit of cream with his fingertip and held it out to her.

Her heart pounded as she leaned forward, her lips closing around his finger, tongue flicking briefly against his skin.

The air thickened, the playful game suddenly dangerous.

Theodore's jaw tightened, his eyes locked on her mouth. "Careful, Verbena. You're making it hard to remember this is just an act."

"Good," she whispered, her pulse racing. "That means we're convincing."

He leaned closer, his breath warm against her cheek. "Too convincing, maybe."

For a moment, she thought he might kiss her—no acting, no pretending. Just Theodore and Verbena, husband and wife.

But then the clock chimed, shattering the moment.

Verbena pulled back, laughing a little too brightly. "Well, I think we're ready for tomorrow."

Theodore sat back, his expression unreadable. "Yes. Ready."

But the way his gaze followed her as they left the dining room told a different story—one neither of them was quite ready to admit.

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End of Chapter 61