Page 52 of Her Duke Next Door
Matthew sat next to Anne, peering out of the window as the girls ran out into the garden.
“Soon, you shall be their age, Matthew,” Mary said, giving him a hug. “And you can chase them in the summer with cold water and terrorize them.”
“Ah, the days that Christian did that to us,” Anne reminisced.
“The water was terribly cold,” Mary agreed.
“Why have you decided to visit me, Mary?” Anne asked suddenly, smiling as she cocked her head at her sister. “The truth.”
Mary sighed, collapsing back onto one of the beautiful chairs that Anne had in the parlor. Her husband was out at the gentleman’s club, and it left the two women able to talk freely. So Mary finally let herself.
But before she could, Anne glanced at her over her teacup. “Is it because you have fallen for your husband?”
“I—Excuse me?” Mary stammered. “What makes you ask that? That is rather presumptuous!”
“And it is true, is it not?”
“Anne!”
“You do not often pay me spontaneous visits, Mary. And you have the lovesick look on your face that I did when I was falling for Alexander without quite realizing it.”
“I—” Mary began to protest again before realizing she could not lie to her sister. “You are right. I have—I am beginning to have feelings for him?—”
“Fallen for him,” Anne corrected with a knowing grin.
Mary rolled her eyes. “Yes. And I do not know what to do with this new… Layer of our relationship. Last night he… He kissed me and he touched me. Pleasured me. And I—It was not as I had usually experienced pleasure. I have never felt the way I do when he is around me. He was traveling for two weeks and when he returned, I realized I had missed him.
“We were in his study and all I could think about was how handsome he was. And then—then he called me by my name and it ignited such pleasure in me just to hear it. But I am terrified, Anne. After my first husband and the havoc he wreaked, and after Hugh’s advances, I am scared to trust. His Grace is… Not dependable, at best. I have seen that myself but?—”
“Sister, why can you not let things be?” Anne asked with a sympathetic smile. “You are fighting these feelings due to your mistrust butwhy?”
“Did you not fight your own for Alexander?”
“Well, yes, but that was different. I knew Christian would not be pleased as they are best friends. But your reasoning is your distrust. Why are you fighting happiness, Mary? It sounds like His Grace is offering it to you on a silver plate. You could have a beautiful, perfect family. What are you afraid of happening?”
“I cannot survive another heartbreak or scandal from a man,” Mary confessed. “And I fear I am growing too old to start over if he should break my heart. I do not trust him yet to hold my affections carefully. I have… Had feelings for him for some time that I have managed to keep quelled but now… What we did yesterday has broken every defense I had put up to stop myself.”
“Then it sounds like you should listen to that break,” Anne said softly. “It sounds as though you are being told something. Perhaps you should stop being so stubborn, sister, and let happen what is trying to happen.”
Mary frowned. “When did you get so wise?”
Anne smiled. “I have learned a lot in my years.”
“Indeed, sister.”
Mary lifted her gaze to the window, where her daughters ran around the trees in the orchid, leaping for apples, eating one each, before placing the others in a basket. They looked so happy. Did they not deserve the beautiful family that they had both expressed they wanted?
Why did Mary listen to the fear rather than the love?
She had watched her parents be unhappy for many years until they found the very thing that brought them back together in love.
“You are right,” Mary said quietly. “I do not know why I should deny myself of this. I should give the Duke a chance to make me happy.”
“Of course,” Anne said. “And if he does not, Alexander is quite the fighter.”
* * *
After visiting Winsor Castle, they passed through London, as Mary had promised Katie to buy her a new ribbon for her hair. As the two girls ran into the fabric shop, Mary hesitated as she looked at the bakery.
