Page 48 of Duke of Bronze
Colin's grin deepened. "He wouldn't know. Not unless you tell him."
Margaret gasped in mock offense, placing a hand over her chest. "Sir, I would never betray such a confidence." She made a dramatic show of sealing her lips, and the room filled with laughter once more.
As the mirth subsided, Margaret's expression shifted, her amusement giving way to something more contemplative. She regarded Colin with an assessing gaze before speaking again.
"Why do you care, though?"
Colin's hand, which had been reaching for his teacup, hesitated midair. "About what?" he asked, though something in her voice made him wary.
Margaret's lips curved slightly, as though she already knew the answer. "About pleasing Anna. So much so that you came to me for advice."
A beat of silence passed between them, and there it was again—that glint in her eyes. A glint that made Colin feel as though she had uncovered something he had yet to admit to himself.
"Anna may not have asked for any of this, but that does not mean it must be dull for her," Colin replied.
Margaret regarded him with something akin to amusement, her fingers delicately tracing the rim of her teacup. "If you insist that is your only reason," she murmured, a knowing smile playing at the corner of her lips.
Colin narrowed his eyes slightly. There was something almost incredulous in the way she looked at him, as though she were entirely unconvinced by his words.
He watched as she took a slow sip of her tea, clearly making an effort to disguise her full amusement. She was failing woefully.
Peggy, he thought with an internal sigh, was most certainly one of those eager to see him ensnared.
With thoughts of Anna swirling in his mind, Colin departed Giltford Manor, ideas forming and shifting as he planned their next outing. He had not anticipated seeking Margaret's advice, but he was glad he had. She had given him exactly what he needed.
Upon returning home, he was met with a waiting note from Roderick. At last! Colin unfolded it and scanned the contents.
Lydia is well enough to speak. She will be expecting you tomorrow in the late afternoon.
—R.M
Colin rubbed his thumb over the corner of the parchment as he thought. Then he strode to his desk, plucked a fresh sheet of parchment, and dipped his quill into ink. His hand moved swiftly over the paper, penning a letter with practiced ease.
Roderick's message had stirred something in him, a reminder of something he had meant to do but had, in his distraction, neglected.
The letter he now wrote was to his solicitor. Its contents, however, remained his alone to know—for now.
A sharp knock on the door interrupted him just as he pressed his seal onto the warm wax.
His butler stepped in, bowing slightly. "Your Grace, the Duke of Giltford and the Duke of Sterlin have arrived."
"Perfect timing. Send them in, and have this posted." He handed the letter to the butler.
"I heard you called earlier," Giltford announced the moment he strode into the study. "Margaret mentioned you were in need of some advice."
Colin groaned inwardly. He should have known Margaret would not keep such things to herself.
He pulled a face. "I did not realize she would be so eager to share the details with you."
Giltford's grin widened as he crossed the room, lowering himself into one of the leather chairs with an air of supreme contentment. "Oh, we tell each othereverything."
The sheer adoration in his friend's voice was almost insufferable.
"You are an unrecognizable man," Colin mused, shaking his head. "You were once a roguish menace, and now look at you—positively domesticated."
"A blissful transformation, I assure you," Giltford chuckled.
"You shall become unrecognizable in that regard too, once you step into the Parson's mousetrap." Sterlin walked into the room with a knowing smirk.
