Page 51 of Duke of Gold
As the carriage pulled away, Peggy glanced at her husband.What are you not telling me?
CHAPTER 24
Peggy walked briskly down the hall. It was a Monday, and though she would usually have been preparing for that afternoon’s charity meeting, today she had decided to forgo it entirely. Her spirits were still too unsettled, her affront at Mrs. Pattons’s audacious comment too fresh. Best to compose herself fully before addressing the matter.
Instead, she had resolved to turn her energy to something more constructive—renovating the castle. And where better to begin than by broaching the matter with Morgan? Her mind raced with ideas as she approached the study, the grand double doors looming ahead. She paused, smoothing her dress and taking a breath before raising her hand to knock.
“Enter,” came his voice, deep and composed.
Peggy stepped inside, her gaze immediately drawn to Morgan, who was seated at his desk, a letter in hand. The late afternoon light streaming through the tall windows cast him in a goldenglow, highlighting the strong lines of his face. He set the missive down, rose to his full height, and turned toward her.
“Margaret,” he greeted, his tone polite but tinged with curiosity. “To what do I owe this unexpected visit?”
“Good afternoon, Morgan,” she said, allowing a small smile to grace her lips. “I thought I might steal a moment of your time.”
“You’re welcome to try,” he replied with a faint smirk, stepping around the desk to meet her.
He does look handsome today.The thought slipped in unbidden, and Peggy found her eyes lingering a moment too long on the way his dark jacket fit perfectly over his broad shoulders. She quickly averted her gaze, chastising herself.Focus, Margaret.
“I came to discuss the castle,” she began, clasping her hands lightly in front of her. “I’ve been thinking of a few improvements we might make.”
Morgan arched a brow, gesturing for her to continue. “You can do whatever you wish with the castle, Margaret. But keep your dainty, ladylike off my study.”
She laughed softly, undeterred by his teasing. “Oh, come now. The entire castle needs some work, Morgan,” she encouraged, her tone playful yet resolute. She was heartened by his willingness to agree so easily but had no intention of letting himkeep the study exempt. “Even this room could use a touch of cheer.”
Morgan folded his arms across his chest, watching her with an amused expression as she gestured around the room. “When was the last time you redecorated?” she asked, her head tilting inquisitively.
He shrugged. “Not since my grandmother was Duchess, I’m told. My mother never bothered.”
Peggy’s lips parted in surprise. “Good heavens, that was ages ago! It sounds to me as though we are chapters behind in our decorations,” she quipped, unable to keep the incredulity from her tone.
A low chuckle escaped Morgan, and the sound warmed her more than she cared to admit. “Perhaps so,” he allowed, though his arms remained crossed, his stance defensive as if to guard the study from her ambitions.
Peggy turned slowly, surveying the space with a critical eye. The heavy, dark wood paneling seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it, and the furnishings, though of fine quality, bore the wear of decades. “Let’s see,” she mused, tapping her chin with a gloved finger. “A lighter wood color should work just fine in here.”
Morgan leaned back against the edge of his desk, one brow lifting in faint challenge. “You are quite determined, aren’t you?”
“Indeed, I am,” she said with a smile, already picturing the transformations she would set in motion. “And just wait until you see what I have planned.”
“Did you not hear a word I just said, Margaret? I like my study as it is,” Morgan said.
“Perhaps some yellow wallpaper to complement the lighter wood color?” Peggy suggested sweetly, turning to face him with a wicked smile playing at her lips. “And we could hang pink china saucers all around the walls. A charming touch, don’t you think?”
Morgan gave her a long, incredulous look, his brow arching in disbelief. Then, to her delight, he burst into laughter—a deep, rich sound that warmed the otherwise somber room. “If you think for a moment I’ll let you turn my study into a doll’s parlor, you are sorely mistaken,” he replied, shaking his head.
Peggy tilted her head, feigning contemplation. “A doll’s parlor? Now, there’s an idea. Perhaps we could place a vase of dainty roses on your desk as well.”
Morgan smirked, pushing off the edge of his desk and crossing his arms as he studied her. “You, my dear, have a rather dangerous imagination.”
“I prefer to think of it as a creative mind,” she countered, her tone light as she crossed the room to the door. “And you may find you like what I have in store, Morgan. Though, if you do not, you are always free to sulk here in the dark wood like a hermit.”
He chuckled again, shaking his head as he waved her off. “Go on, then. Conquer the rest of the castle. Leave my study to me.”
Peggy left with a satisfied grin, his laughter still echoing in her ears. She had barely stepped into the hallway when the butler appeared, his expression composed but expectant.
“Your Grace,” he began with a bow, “you have a caller. Lady Aleshire is in the drawing room.”
Peggy straightened, smoothing her skirts as a smile graced her lips. “Thank you, Barrow. I shall see her immediately.”
