Page 16 of The Jilted Duchess
"It is quite all right," she said calmly, sitting back down. "I understand how busy things can get."
It seemed too little an excuse and too much for him to keep arguing the matter, so instead, he crossed to the other end of the table where his place had been set.
"I cannae even see ye from here," he said, frowning. "What is this, a table or a racecourse?"
"It's quite normal as tables go," she said seriously, only a little twitch at the corner of her mouth giving her away. "Perhaps you need glasses, Your Grace?"
He laughed, delighted at her wit. "Ye have a quick tongue, wife! But I'll be moving a wee bit closer to ye, I think."
He gathered all the many strange things that apparently he needed to eat his evening meal and moved up to sit at her side. "That's better. Nay reason I should be deprived of yer beautiful face durin' dinner, is there?"
She blushed a little, and looked down at her soup in confusion. "If you are joining me you should really be at the head of the table -"
"Nay bother, lass," he said cheerfully. "I'm sat now and sat I will stay."
A girl he hadn't had a chance to meet yet brought out soup for him and placed it carefully in front of him, spilling a little on the tablecloth. She gasped and glanced at both of them in terror.
"I'm - I'm so sorry, Your Graces!"
Hector opened his mouth, ready to soothe the girl, when Alexandra spoke first.
"It is nothing for you to be worried about, Gracie," she said firmly. "Bring back a damp cloth and clean it up and then go back to what you were doing. It's just a spill."
The girl fled from the room in relief and Hector smiled a little at his wife, pleased that she felt the same way he did about accidents. "Have ye had a pleasant day then?"
"It was productive," she said primly, taking the most elegant bite of soup that he had ever seen. "I am very pleased with it."
"I'm glad to hear it, I havenae made as much progress as I would want, so I will likely be workin' late again." He tried the soup, found it pleasant, and supped it with relish. "I'll be glad when the business is finished with - what is it?"
She was staring at him so intensely that for a moment, he wondered if there was some small critter like a spider or a beetle in his hair.
"Your Grace, I don't want to presume -"
"Lass, Alexandra," Hector sighed, smiling a little at her. "Call me husband from now on. None of this Yer Grace nonsense. We are man and wife and it doesnae feel right to me. Or ye can call me by me Christian name, it's good to be getting on with."
A flush rose in her cheeks. "Hector. I don't want to presume to teach you manners -"
"Och, teach away, I daenae have any the way that a duke is meant to." He grinned at her and was pleased when she relaxed a little and smiled back, clearly appreciating the freedom.
"Very well then, when you eat soup, you must not make a sound with it, and you are to eat from the side of the spoon, not the front - it is considered very ill-mannered indeed to slurp." She demonstrated and he laughed merrily.
"Ill-mannered it might be, but it is mighty pleasant. Ye should try it sometime," He grinned at the appalled look on her face and took another bite of soup with the elegance she had demonstrated. "There, does that please ye, wife?"
She smiled at him, her eyes sparkling a little for the first time. "Exactly right... husband."
The word made a warmth start in his chest and he found himself smiling back just as gently. Whatever magic she was doing to him, he hoped it would continue.
CHAPTER NINE
"Late today, Murray?" the Earl of St. Vincent, Cedric, was lounging in a comfortable chair in front of Hector's office desk, a faint smile on his face. Hector raised both eyebrows at his friend and now brother-in-law.
"No later than is polite, or so ye are always telling me yerself, St Vincent," he said cheerfully, pushing his friend's boots down off one of the other chairs with his cane. "How many times have ye come in late enough to have missed most of the meeting and then told me that it's but the manners yer pa taught you?"
"A dozen at least, but that's my prerogative being a reformed rake and man of leisure," Cedric drawled. "You as a man of firm industry have never been a second late in all the time that I have known you, businessman or duke. Is marriage appealing to you, Your Grace?"
"Och, call me that again while it's just our company and I'll box yer ears, lad!" Hector grinned at him. "Ye've always told memarriage is a wondrous thing, at least after ye got into it. Tis not me fault that ye were right."
"Indeed," the Duke of Thornfield, Theodore, and one of Hector's other close friends stood in the doorway, hat in his hand. "Quite so, in fact. And as I am sure none here would imply I myself am late, perhaps we can all agree that St. Vincent was simply far too early on purpose."
