Page 57 of Married to a Frozen Duke
"The day's not over yet."
"It nearly is, though. We've survived almost all of our wedding day."
"Barely."
"But still survived."
He turned his head to look at her in the dim light. She was facing the ceiling, her profile just visible.
"Do you always look for silver linings?"
"Someone has to. You clearly don't."
"I'm a realist."
"You're a pessimist."
"Based on today, I'm an optimist. Things could apparently be much worse."
"See? You're learning."
They lay there quietly, and gradually, Alexander felt himself relaxing. The bed was actually comfortable, despite his expectations. The sheets did smell of lavender. The rain on the roof was oddly soothing.
"Ophelia?"
"Yes?"
"Your family really doesn't have a curse, does it?"
"No. Though we do seem to have a talent for chaos."
"I've noticed."
"It's not always bad, though."
"Isn't it?"
"Well, I married a duke. That's not bad."
"You married a duke who hates your family."
"Hated."
"Still hate."
"But maybe less than this morning?"
He thought about it. This morning, he'd seen the Coleridges as everything wrong with society—grasping, crude, climbing above their station. But Ophelia had been none of those things today. She'd been ill, yes. Mortifying, absolutely. But also...practical. Resilient. Surprisingly good company when the world was falling apart.
"Maybe," he conceded.
"Progress."
"Minimal progress."
"Still progress."
A loud crash from below made them both jump.
