Page 47 of His Highland Duchess
“Using my own daughters against me. How evil of you.”
“I would also accept manipulative,” she laughed. “But if I am to be a true member of this house, I should be allowed to make my own decisions. And in this…” She indicated Spotty, now asleep on her lap. “I have decided.”
He sighed and shook his head. “I suppose I have no choice.”
“Oh, ye always have a choice,” she said. “But that does nae mean ye will like the outcome.”
“Supper,” he said with a smile. “And yes, you may bring Spotty.”
“Thank ye.”
He stepped into her then, reaching down and resting a hand under her chin. He lifted her face so that he was looking into her eyes, holding them, that passion and desire they felt for each other burning in their reflection. Margaret felt her pulse rise and her body grow warm… only for him to step back.
“Until then…” The duke turned and started across the room.
“Until then,” she agreed softly, so that he likely did not hear her.
There was no denying that the outcome of this moment was exactly what their marriage needed. Indeed, she was happy now for the clarity. This marriage, despite how it had started, looked as if it might grow into something real and true..
Even still…what is that feeling deep inside of me? Is it fear? Worry? Anxiety?She was not certain. A warning, it felt like, a reminder that despite how much had changed and the promises that were made, there were still infinite chances of it all blowing up in her face. Happiness could be hers, but so could sadness and despair.
It's never easy, I suppose. But then again, what marriage is?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Tonight was not their first outing as an officially married couple, even if it felt that way. The first had been the Irovale Ball, and although Lysander had been congenial and friendly to Margaret, it had also been an act. There had been a sense of falsity to it that Margaret had not been able to ignore, and it had left a bitter taste in her mouth, which had ended when she’d told Lysander she would spend the rest of their marriage ignoring him.
How far we have come,she could not help but think with a coy smile.Ta those watching us, we likely look as we did the last time, a happily married couple in the throes of romance. But only we know the truth of it…
“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” Lysander whispered in Margaret’s ear as he led her across the ballroom.
She scoffed. “Ye da nae have ta try so hard as that.”
He chuckled. “Just doing my husbandly duty. And what sort of husband would I be if I didn’t tell my wife how stunning she looked?”
“Not a very good one,” she agreed. “Personally, I didn’t think ye had it in ye. All words and no action.”
“I surprise myself,” he said.
“Just teasing,” she winked. “But still… I appreciate it.”
He had his arm linked through hers, and he pulled her in closer as they walked, as if afraid to let her go. “Do not take my word for it.” He gestured to the crowd, which seemed to part for them as they went. “See how everyone stares. See the looks on their faces. I assure you, it is not for my benefit.”
“Perhaps they are just surprised,” she offered, even if she could see them too. “Shock that ye and I have nae ended in killing each other by now.”
He laughed again. “Perhaps. Although I prefer to be more positive.” Suddenly, he came to a stop, forcing her to turn toward him. There, he held her hands and looked at her, humor gone, eyes glimmering. “You do look beautiful, Margaret. Know that for the truth it is.”
Her natural instinct was to offer a reply by way of a witty remark again. To disarm the comment, as was her usual way, because Margaret was not used to such things. But she met the duke’seyes and realized that he was not saying such things because he thought he needed to do so. Yes, a part of it was this new attempt at seeing what this marriage might have the potential to become. But there was also a truth in his eyes that she could not deny.He really means it.
“Rendered speechless,” he chuckled when she said nothing. “I did not think I would see the day.”
“Dae nae get used ta it.”
It had been three days since the conversation in Margaret’s bedroom. Three days since the duke had promised to give this marriage a chance. Three days since Margaret had done the same. Three days since they had stopped arguing at every turn, looking for reasons to bicker, unable to help their distrust because neither had been ready to be truly honest with the other. Three days and…so far, I have nothing to complain about and so much ta praise. It has been as unexpected as it has been wonderful.
They had not fought once. They had not even argued. Lysander was careful not to be his usual commanding self, especially where the girls were concerned, giving Margaret space to breathe and be true to her own nature. And where at times she could see he wanted to step in and tell her off or direct her away from something she was speaking of, he held his tongue, determined to try and make this work.
As wonderfully as everything was going, there was one small issue that Margaret was having a hard time ignoring, despite herattempts at doing just that. In those three days, not once had Lysander given in to his urges and taken her as she knew he wanted to. Oh, sure, he enjoyed teasing her still. A stroking of her arm here. A hand around her waist there. The odd whisper in her ear that told her how much he still wanted her… only to never follow through on it.
