Page 35 of Her Beast of a Duke
“As do you.”
“I am speaking ofyou,” she countered.
“We may speak of the two of us. Do not be afraid to open your heart, Isabella.”
Isabella took another sip of her wine and considered her words. She could open her heart, but how did she know it would be received well?
“Dare I ask where your wife is tonight?” Edmund asked, handing Oscar a brandy that was quite strong, by the smell of it.
He took a generous gulp, anyway. “She is visiting a friend. The daughter of the Earl of Newbrook, to be exact.”
“Ah.” Edmund laughed. “So, you may know her business, but she cannot know yours? Does she know where you are tonight, or do you keep even friendly visits from her, too?”
“My wife knows of my comings and goings,” Oscar muttered defensively, rolling his eyes.
Across from him, Edmund took a seat in his drawing room. It was strange to feel howquietHarcross Manor was, the townhouse his friend loved to frequent because it was right in the center of the entertainment and excitement of theton. When Edmund threw so many rowdy parties, it was strange to experience later the stillness of the townhouse without such soirees and distractions abounding.
“I am certain that is the only thing your wife does know about you,” Edmund muttered, eyeing Oscar knowingly.
He lounged back into a leather armchair, artfully crossing one ankle over the other. Dressed in a complementary emerald tailcoat and white shirt, he looked every inch the composed Marquess. Any lady would be lucky to have him, and plenty had thrown themselves at him.
“She knows plenty,” Oscar told him dismissively.
“Does she now?” Edmund did not sound convinced at all, smirking at him.
“Edmund,” Oscar warned. “Do not start. I am not at my most patient.”
Edmund only laughed at him, casually running a hand through his hair. “When are you ever?”
Oscar gave him an acknowledging wave of his glass, for he hated how his friend was correct. However, sitting here in Harcross Manor’s drawing room, his head felt clearer than it had in a short while. So, he finally let his tongue have free rein.
“I…” Oscar began, and Edmund, not always used to him opening up, sat up straighter.
“Yes?”
When Oscar remained quiet, Edmund pushed. “It is about the Duchess.”
“Yes,” he begrudgingly agreed. “Yes, it is. Of course, it is. I feel like everything is these days.”
“She is your new wife,” Edmund acknowledged graciously. “That is to be expected. Speak to me; you know you always can.”
“I know,” Oscar said, but it took him another few moments and another gulp of drink to be able to. “She is a… a refined lady. She wishes for happiness, andlife, and brightness, and I cannot match up to her. I am just the beast she is now shackled tobecause I told her our marriage would protect our reputations, and she needs that.”
“And what if she needsyou?”
“She does not.”
“What if she does, Oscar?”
“I am not a man she should need,” he said under his breath, but of course Edmund caught the retort.
“She needs the marriage,” Edmund noted. “But you could become the man she needs as well as the mere husband, the person thetonwishes to see her alongside. You are saving your reputation, but what about savingher?”
“I do not save people.”
“Why not?”
“Because—” he cut himself off. “Because I am who I am.”
