Page 42 of The Duke and the Accidental Bride

“Oh, have they? That is... that is very nice. Of you, I mean.” She blushed furiously, hating the fact that she did. “That is very nice of you.”

“I thought it might brighten your morning,” he continued pleasantly. “As much as you have done for mine. That dress...” He exhaled and his smile grew. “Ravishing, Isabella.”

“Th -- thank you.” She sat down quickly, and awkwardly. She wasn’t used to getting these sorts of compliments from men and had no idea how to react to such a thing. “Really, you do not have to say...”

“I am just paying my wife a compliment,” he continued with an air of charm that almost felt genuine. “Surely, you won’t deny me that?”

Isabella could not have been more confused. Was this genuine? Did he mean the things that he said? Or was this just an angle he was using, to what end she could not imagine.

Again, she had no idea how to react. Her natural inclination was to say something sharp and scathing – at him. But if this was real, and he was trying to be kind for a damn change, the least that she could do was be grateful.

Why, it might have even been the first kind thing he had done for her.

“I do appreciate it,” she said with a smile to match Duncan’s. “And you also, look very...” She swallowed. “Very handsome this morning.”

“Just doing my best not to drag you down,” he said automatically. A little too quickly. “Again, that dress. Breathtaking.”

She eyed him curiously. And again, she very nearly said something biting or dismissive, to tell him that she wasn’t to be fooled by whatever the heck it was that he was doing. But she held her tongue. Barely.

“Again, thank you,” she said. “I... it brings me joy to hear you say such kind words.”

Isabella was still trying to decide what she was going to do about this marriage. How she was going to approach it. The marriage had gone through. It had happened. She and the Duke were together, and there was nothing Isabella could do to change that.

The question now became, how was she going to approach this marriage.

She was no longer intimidated by her husband. At least not in the way that she had before. After what had happened the previous night, she was beginning to better understand the threats that Duncan had made toward her. Threats that she now thought she might enjoy.

In fact, following a long night of tossing and turning and sweating and shaking, she was damn certain that she would enjoy them.

It should have been easy from there. Isabella knew how to push her husband’s buttons better than she ought to have. It was as easy as breathing, as natural as walking. And once she started... her body literally quivered at the thought.

But enter this morning. Enter the flowers and the niceness and the genuine effort to avoid hostilities and Isabella was at a loss as to how she should react.

He was beingnice. Purposefully nice. It was clear that he was doing his best to show her another side of him. As if he was apologizing silently in his own way, letting her know that things were going to change.

But... but... but what if I don’t want them to change? Not yet.

“Duncan, I was just thinking,” Isabella began pleasantly as she settled into her chair. “My sisters yesterday were telling me of an upcoming ball that they will both be attending at the Manfield Manor.”

“I have heard of it.”

“Oh good, because I plan on going.” She cocked an eyebrow at him, licking her lips with anticipation. “In fact, I am going to attend. In the interest of letting you know my plans, I thought I should tell you of them in advance.”

“Is that right...” She could see his mind at work, that desire to chastise her for telling him, rather than asking, what she wished to do. Hehatedthat.

“It is,” she said with an arrogant smile that she knew would drive him wild. “If you do not wish to attend, that is fine by me, of course. And if you have already made other plans, I understand perfectly well. But I am going, and that is final.”

“The ball is on the Friday night, yes?”

“I believe it is.”

Duncan grimaced. His jaw clenched as he worked about as hard as a man ever has to keep his temper. “I had made plans that evening to see some friends in London.”

“Oh.” She blinked as if it hadn’t occurred to her. Beneath the table, her legs shook with a sense of excitement as she imagined the Duke’s temper rising so that he had no choice but to grab her and... “Well, that is a shame,” she finished.

“You do realize how strange it would look if you were to attend such an event without me?”

“Perhaps,” she agreed, eyeing him closely, looking for the chink in his armor at which she could strike. “But I am going, Duncan. I promised my sisters already and I would hate to break it. How might that makemelook.”

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