Page 67 of A Virgin for the Duke of Depravity
She could not help but stomp her foot in frustration. “Why do you insist on keeping me at a distance, even now?”
It was the question that burned into her mind. She had been as open as she could be with him, allowing him to see her vulnerable and raw. He had seen her cry. He had seen her angry. He had seen her undone.
Why was this so much to ask now that he claimed to want to be her husband?
He shook his head, looking at her sadly. The silence stretched between them, but Margaret did not move. She understood that she needed to wait for him to answer. Becauseeverythinghinged on that answer.
“Because I cannot care for my wife. That would be the greatest danger of all,” he finally said.
Margaret nodded, though she could not understand a world in which it was a bad thing to care for one’s spouse. All she knew was that this conversation would not go anywhere. Not tonight.
“Thank you for helping me,” she uttered stiffly. “But the events of the past few days have left me exhausted.”
She struggled to find any trace of the familiarity they had once had with one another. So she made her way down the path to the mansion, all while feeling his eyes on her.
Quietly, she turned the corner and climbed up the stairs to her rooms. Halfway there, she encountered a maid and requested that she draw her a bath. There was nothing she could do tonight but prepare for the next day.
Her wedding day.
The maid returned with warm water and filled the tub. She helped Margaret out of her dress, laid out a nightgown, and disappeared from the room. Margaret took a deep breath andslipped beneath the water. Her red hair fanned out in the water around her.
How can I marry him?
Yes, he had saved her from a fate that might have been the same as her mother’s. But how could she live with a man who did not want her to be near him?
She envied Theresa’s marriage to a man who adored her. If she were being honest, she had hoped that she might change something about the mysterious Duke who had intrigued her from the start.
But he had always been clear with her—he would not marry her.
What had changed in him? Was it a change she could trust?
CHAPTER 16
“You will make a beautiful bride,” Theresa said over Margaret’s shoulder as the two women looked at their reflections in the looking glass the following day. She had woven Margaret’s long red hair into braids and pinned them up in the fashion of the day.
“I fear that my beauty matters very little,” Margaret said. “It does not look like my soon-to-be husband is enthused about this idea.”
“Leo is…” Theresa trailed off, her expression thoughtful. “He is a man of few words, but I do not think he is a bad match.”
“It feels as though he does not want a match of any kind.” Margaret shook her head and felt the sting at the back of her eyes.
It was her wedding day, when her father should have walked her down the aisle. Her mother should have been here in herchambers to help her get ready. She keenly felt the absence of everything this day lacked.
She took Theresa’s hands in her own and brought them to her lips.
“Thank you for being here,” she said, wishing to say no more about the mysterious man she was to marry. “I have lost so much, but I am glad that I will not lose you.”
“You will see. Life in London is far more fun than the nunnery.” Theresa tipped her head back and laughed to herself. “They may even permit you to sing the hymns when you attend mass.”
“An improvement in my life,” Margaret laughed. She was grateful for even a small moment of levity in the face of monumental decisions. “We shall both be duchesses before the day is out.”
“I will teach you everything you need to know to be a duchess,” Theresa promised. “You will not be on your own here in London. Leo will see to it that you have everything you need and want. I am sure of it.”
Margaret nodded and bit her bottom lip until it turned white. She could not let anyone see her cry on the day when she was to be the blushing bride. She had no problem with the blushing part.
“We should get you into your gown,” Theresa said gently.
Margaret rose from her seat in front of the mirror, wearing only her shift. Theresa held out the gown for her, allowing her to step into the pool of rich green fabric. It was the color of emeralds, highlighting her warm brown eyes and accentuating the flaming red of her hair.
