Page 31 of Married to a Frozen Duke
She sent back her acceptance, equally formal.Indeed, I would like to see Montclaire House.Thank you for the invitation.
He came himself to collect her, which she hadn’t expected. She’d assumed he’d send a carriage, maintain his distance until absolutely necessary.
But there he was in the entrance hall, perfectly dressed as always, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else but there.
“Miss Coleridge.”
“Your Grace.”
They stared at each other across the entrance hall, neither quite sure what to say.
“Shall we?” He offered his arm with painful correctness.
She took it, her hand barely touching his sleeve but even through gloves and fabric, she could feel his tension.
The carriage ride was silent. He sat across from her, staring out the window. She sat perfectly still, hands folded, trying not to exist too loudly.
“The house is old,” he said suddenly.
“I’m sorry?”
“Montclaire Manor. It’s old. Sixteenth century, with later additions. It might be… overwhelming.”
Was he trying to prepare her or warn her?
“I’m sure it’s lovely.”
“It’s large.”
“Yes, I imagined it would be.”
Silence fell again. Then:
“Your brothers hate me.”
The unexpected honesty startled her. “Yes.”
“Do you?”
She considered the question. “I don’t know you well enough to hate you.”
“But if you did know me?”
“Then I probably would.”
He made a sound that might have been a laugh. “Honest.”
“Would you prefer dishonesty?”
“I’d prefer…” He paused. “I don’t know what I’d prefer.”
“For this not to be happening?”
“Yes.”
“Well, we have that in common, at least.”
They looked at each other then, really looked, and for a moment there was something almost like understanding between them. Then he looked away, and the moment passed.
