Page 54 of Duke of Gold
“Care to share the occasion?” he asked, leaning back slightly, the corner of his mouth quirking upward.
Margaret needed no further prompting. “Well,” she began with obvious delight, “the matron who made that dreadful remark about you at the club—Mrs. Pattons—offered an apology today. A rather grudging one, of course, but an apology nonetheless.”
Morgan’s brow lifted, intrigued. “And did you simply accept it and move on?” he inquired, though the faint glint in his eyes suggested he already knew the answer.
Margaret’s lips curved into a sly smile. “Oh no, your grace. I couldn’t let her get away so easily. I reminded her that the finest treasures are often the most unassuming. It made quite an impression,” she added, her tone light but victorious.
Morgan felt a swell of pride in his chest, an unfamiliar yet satisfying warmth. “Not bad. Not bad at all,” he said, inclining his head slightly in acknowledgment.
Margaret’s eyes sparkled, her gaze locking onto his. “Is that a compliment, your grace?” she asked, her eyes bright with hopeful teasing.
“It’s an acknowledgment,” he replied with a faint smirk, deliberately avoiding the trap she’d set.
“Oh, come now,” she huffed, folding her arms in mock petulance. “What would it cost you to give a proper compliment?”
Morgan chuckled, the sound low and rich. “Are you truly that starved for compliments, Margaret?”
“I just defended your honor,” she retorted, her chin lifting as her lips twitched with a barely restrained smile. “The least I deserve is a compliment from you.”
Her playful gloating only amused him further. “Ah, so this is where your happiness stems from,” he teased, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Fishing for accolades from your husband.”
Margaret laughed, the sound bright and unguarded, and Morgan found himself laughing with her.
“Would you like to hear what ideas I have for the music room renovations?” Margaret asked, her voice tinged with excitement as she looked at him across the table.
Morgan found himself unexpectedly intrigued. “I suppose I could be persuaded,” he replied, his tone mild but curious.
After their meal, Margaret wasted no time leading him to the music room. Her steps were light, her energy infectious, and Morgan followed with an amused smile tugging at his lips. Once there, she gestured to the room with a flourish, her green eyes shining as she began to explain.
“I thought of a theme in tones of green and brown,” she said, her hands moving expressively as she spoke. “I want to create an illusion of nature indoors. A room that feels both vibrant and soothing, as though you’ve stepped into a sunlit forest.” She turned to him, her face aglow with pride. “Isn’t it a splendid idea?”
Morgan allowed himself a small smile, his gaze lingering on her as she awaited his response. “I must say, it does sound quite creative and well thought through,” he admitted, his voice warm.Then, before she could accuse him of holding back, he added, “And yes, Margaret, I am giving a true compliment now.”
Her reaction was immediate and utterly delightful. She practically bounced on her feet, her hands clasping together as a radiant grin lit up her face. “I’m a genius, I know,” she declared, the words brimming with self-satisfaction.
Morgan laughed, shaking his head. “Although you could use a lesson or two in humility,” he teased.
Margaret ignored the jab entirely, too caught up in her vision for the room. “Oh, I think it will look like a dream once it’s done!” she exclaimed, spinning in place as her eyes roved over the walls, the windows, the high ceiling. It was as though she were already admiring her completed masterpiece.
Speaking of dreams…
Morgan’s amusement dimmed slightly as the thought crossed his mind. He studied her, his hands slipping into his pockets as he leaned casually against the doorframe. Her enthusiasm was contagious, her happiness a balm to his weary soul, yet beneath it all lingered the matter of her silence—her silence about the nightmares.
Why had she said nothing? Margaret was not one to keep her thoughts to herself, especially not about something so significant. And yet, she had chosen to keep her discovery to herself.
He needed answers, and he needed them soon. Morgan decided then and there that it was time to ask her .
“Why are you keeping quiet about it?” Morgan asked, his voice breaking the stillness in the room.
Margaret, who had been examining the far wall with her typical animated focus, froze mid-step. She turned to him slowly, her expression shifting into a mask of perplexity. “About what?” she asked, though the slight tension in her tone betrayed her.
“The nightmares,” he clarified, his gaze unwavering. “You found me, didn’t you?”
She stilled completely, her shoulders straightening. “I did,” she said softly, nodding with solemnity.
Morgan studied her, searching for some flicker of the curiosity he knew so well. Yet her face was strangely unreadable, her composure throwing him off balance. “It is unlike you not to question at all,” he said, his tone quieter now.
Margaret hesitated for a moment, her eyes meeting his before shifting away. “I didn’t need to question,” she replied, her voice calm, measured.
