Page 38 of A Bride for the Sinful Duke

Hector’s frown deepened. “I should like to know which meddling little bird it was.”

“Relax. Your carriage passed by mine as I was heading home.” Marcus chuckled as he watched Hector down the last of his drink with a sigh. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I can be anywhere I want to be,” Hector hissed, the sharpness in his tone making it clear he was in no mood to be told what to do.

Marcus knew his cousin well enough to change the subject. “And the Duchess? How is she faring?”

Hector was momentarily silent, his jaw tightening as he fumed inwardly. “How was your wife when you first married her?” he asked abruptly.

“Emma?” Marcus’ expression softened with the memory. He chuckled, the sound rich with amusement. “She got on my nerves the very second she entered my home. She said, ‘Marcus, I cannot believe you wore that ugly thing for our wedding. Your tailor should have done a better job.’”

A slight chuckle escaped Hector’s lips. “She was right. You looked like you’d been squeezed into it.”

The men laughed, raising their glasses in a shared toast. Their friendship offered a momentary break from the weight of their titles and the burdens of their marriages although Marcus wore his marriage hat proudly.

“She took over my wardrobe once she moved in,” Marcus continued with a feigned sigh. “I became her personal project.”

Hector laughed again, and he felt his mood slowly improving “See how well you turned out. Good on Emma, then.”

For a long time, Marcus said nothing more. His expression was contemplative as he swirled the brandy in his glass. Then, with a slow nod, he downed the drink and set the glass on the center table.

“Yes, I appear to be much better now, and I am not merely speaking about my clothes.”

Hector raised a questioning brow, intrigued by the change in his friend’s tone.

Marcus met Hector’s gaze. With a serious timbre to his voice he remarked, “Sometimes, to become our best selves, we must make room for certain compromises.”

Hector frowned slightly, mulling over Marcus’ words.

Compromise was something he had always avoided. He viewed it as a sign of weakness and a relinquishment of control. But,sitting across from his friend, he now wondered if it was time to take a fresh approach to address his problems.

“I should return home.”

Marcus nodded. “You should. I had also better hurry before my wife decides I do not belong in our home anymore.”

“Ahhh, yes, that would indeed be unfortunate for you.”

“You are married now,” Marcus countered. “You will soon learn who truly runs the house…whilst defying you.”

Hector wasn’t sure if someone had informed Marcus about what had been happening.

Not only was Juliet doing whatever she pleased, she was also taking over his home, but maybe that wouldn’t be as dreadful as he’d initially feared.

“Go home, Hector,” Marcus said, rising to his feet. “I’ll see myself out.”

CHAPTER 12

Juliet’s fingers absently traced the spine of the book she had been trying to read. The silence of the library was stifling. The pages she’d turned were filled with words, but none of them reached her.

Her thoughts drifted back to her argument with Hector and the biting words they’d exchanged. The distance between them had grown even larger in the days thereafter.

Perhaps he has intentionally forgotten that I exist.

The door opened, and Leila entered, carrying a tray set with a delicate porcelain cup and a small pitcher. “Your Grace, I brought you some tea.”

Juliet offered a faint smile. “Thank you, Leila. You are always so thoughtful.”

Leila set the tray on the small table beside Juliet’s chair, hesitating momentarily before speaking again. “Your Grace, with all due respect, might I say something?”

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