Page 55 of The Duke's Unclaimed Bride
“I have servants and?—”
“So do I,” she interrupted. “And yet here you are, sheltering me in your room and insisting I eat with you. You are aware that we have never shared a meal since our marriage?”
He hesitated, and she felt the muscles in his hand tense. “I have been busy with work.”
“And I have been busy with work as well.”
“That’s different,” he protested.
“It is not.”
“Duchess, you cannot compare your charity to the running of a duchy.”
“I can,” she countered. “Much like you are responsible for keeping order in a sprawling operation, I am needed to organize a disparate web of individuals. If one thing goes wrong, that means that the funds could be used incorrectly. In the worst-case scenario, lives could be at stake.”
Laurence paused at her words, then nodded. “I see your point.”
The valet stepped into the room, placing the meal in front of Edith. She looked down at the salmon steaming in front of herand smiled. Laurence accepted his portion and sat down in a plush chair by the window.
As the pair prepared to eat, Edith couldn’t help but glance at her chamber door.
“She will be fine,” Laurence said softly. “I promise.”
“I don’t doubt that. I just remember being so afraid of storms when I was Tilly’s age. My father would always stay with me on those nights, read me to sleep, and make sure I didn’t have nightmares.”
“He sounds like a good man,” Laurence remarked.
“He was. Whenever anyone would remark that he was a good father, he would laugh.” Edith smiled. “He was the kind of man who thought that was normal. So, to him, being praised for the baseline was absurd.”
“I see.” Laurence’s eyes glazed over, as if he were lost in thought.
“What was your father like?”
Laurence stiffened, scooped up a mouthful of salmon, and chewed in silence. “He… I prefer not to talk about him.”
Edith nodded and took a delicate bite of her food. She looked at Laurence, her eyes trailing over his scars before a thought sent a shiver down her spine.
“Did…” She hesitated. “Did your father give you those scars?”
She regretted the question as soon as it left her mouth.
Laurence stopped chewing and clenched his cutlery. “No,” he grumbled. “But he was a part of it.”
“I’m sorry,” she apologized quickly. “I didn’t mean to probe. I just… I merely wish to get to know you. We’re married, after all. I don’t want us to remain strangers.”
He nodded, but the movement was stiff. “I’m sorry I can’t live up to the standards your first husband set,” he murmured.
Edith blinked in shock for a moment, then burst into a short laugh, easing the tension in the room. “Oh, no, you have actually far surpassed the standard set by Lord Nealton.” She smiled.
Laurence’s eyebrows shot up, and he laid his cutlery on his plate.
“I beg your pardon?” he asked. “What do you mean?”
“Ah, Lord Nealton was no love match. He was actually a friend of my father’s,” she explained, putting down her cutlery. “They had been friends for as long as I could remember. At the time of myparents’ death, he was traveling for business, but returned for the funeral. He kept an eye on me and noticed that my guardians were…” she trailed off.
She wrinkled her nose while debating how to explain the situation.
“Did they hurt you?” Laurence asked, his voice low and dangerous.
