Page 89 of The Duke's Scottish Bride
“No, Verity, I was wrong. I should have told ye what was goin’ on, even if I was actin’ in yer best interest. I shouldnae kept it from ye. Ye deserve more than that.” Marion’s voice was muffled by her tears, yet she managed to speak her peace.
Verity pulled back and held Marion at arm’s length.
“No, my dear. I do understand why you did it. Anselm can be… formidable and persistent. And I was so caught up in my own pride that I could not see straight. Please, let us forget it.”
“I would like that,” Marion said as Verity squeezed her hands tight.
“We are friends first. Always.”
“Always,” Marion replied as a shaky smile touched her lips. “Well, let us not stand here all day.”
Marion pulled Verity further into the room and gestured for her to sit on the edge of the bed.
“I know it is not just me that has caused you such grief. Please, tell me what has happened in my absence,” Verity said softly.
“I fear I daenae ken where to begin,” Marion said.
“Start wherever you like,” Verity said with a smile. “I have all day, and you have my full attention.”
And so, Marion began. She was slow and tentative at first. Yet, the more she spoke, the more the words came out like a flowing waterfall.
She started by telling Verity about Gilton’s true nature. She detailed how the threats came from him, how he was the man inthe alley that night, and all about her uncle and aunt’s betrayal. Verity listened and her face grew paler with each revelation.
“I knew something was not entirely sane about that man.”
“I ken…I ken…”
“Oh goodness, I can tell by the expression on your face. Is there more that has happened? Are you unwell?”
“Aye… it is yer brother…”
Verity was downright furious and outraged by Anselm’s cold pronouncements.
“He said what to you?” she demanded, her green eyes blazing hot. “He told you to… to go back to Scotland? That your marriage was merely a convenience?” She leapt to her feet and paced the room like a caged lioness.
“I dinnae realize this would make ye so upset, but there is more to it. He is very?—”
“He is very much a fool! This cannot be! After everything you two have become over these weeks…I have seen you with my own two eyes. And after he almost lost you in the park… he said such cruel things?”
“I think he believes he is protectin’ me somehow,” Marion whispered as she let her gaze go distant while looking at the curtains blowing in the breeze by the window. “Protecting us both from… entanglement. From the vulnerability that comes with real intimacy. I daenae think he can handle it.”
“Vulnerability be damned!” Verity snapped, her fists clenching into fists in the duvet. “He is surely a fool! And a coward, if he cannot face his own feelings!” She stopped and fixed her eyes on the door. “This is unacceptable. I will not stand for it.”
Before Marion could stop her, Verity marched out of the room. Her footsteps echoed with purpose as her heels connected with the marble. Marion knew exactly where she was going.
Anselm had been absorbed in his work when a resounding boom came from the entrance to his study. He looked up to see the door had been slammed open, connecting with the wall behind it.
“Verity,” he said flatly, unwilling to give credence to her thunderous entrance. “I trust you are here to apologize for your recent outburst. If so, I am all ears,” he said as he closed his ledger and looked up at her.
“Apologize? To you!” Verity scoffed, striding towards his desk, her hands on her hips. “I am here to demand answers from you, Anselm! What did you say to Marion last night? What is this nonsense about her returning to Scotland?”
Anselm’s jaw clenched as he set his hands down onto his desk in tight fists. He was not prepared for this line of questioning, evident by the perspiration at his brow.
“That, my dear sister, is a private matter between mywifeand myself. It does not concern you and I would appreciate you to focus on your own matters.”
“It concerns me when you break her heart!” Verity snapped, her voice rising. “And when you speak of her as if she is merely a… a temporary fixture! She is your wife, Anselm! And I know it if you do not see what is plain in front of you…she loves you!”
Anselm rose slowly then. He walked to the door and shut it to close them in. This conversation was not for the ears of passersby, and certainly not for Marion.
