Page 69 of The Duke and the Accidental Bride

And what had happened as a result of that... Duncan was nowhere near as innocent in Andrea’s death as he had led Isabella to believe.

Comparing it to his current relationship with Isabella, Duncan was forced to admit that if he did not try and change something, then he would inevitably go down the exact same path. And as he had learned all too tragically, that would end in suffering.

So, Duncan had started being nice to Isabella. Trying to get to know her. To not let her anger him or bait him or lure him into being somebody that he wanted but knew was best to avoid.

The results of this new venture were mixed, to say the least.

On the one hand, they were getting along better than ever. They spoke openly and honestly in ways that Duncan imagined a married couple should. They also never fought anymore, as Isabella’s smart mouth and sharp tongue seemed to have left her completely. A blessing, most men would think. Most men, however, were not Duncan.

The passion was gone from their marriage. As was the fire. Oh yes, he loved that he was getting to better know his wife. More than that, he found that she was a woman whose company he enjoyed. More than he might have ever thought possible! But lately, they had become so concerned with developing their personal relationship that the other side of their marriage had been forgotten completely.

“I am happy to hear of the state of wedded bliss that you have found yourself in,” Richard said with a coy smile. “So much that I wonder if it might be worth me holding my tongue.”

“Meaning?”

He bit into his lip as he considered. “May I ask you something – and please, this is not me trying to start something.”

“Just tell me, Richard,” Duncan sighed.

“I am sure it is nothing,” he said. “Only...” Richard indicated over Duncan’s shoulder. “I cannot help but wonder who on earth your wife is speaking with? And why they are sofriendly.”

“Who she is...” Duncan turned around and saw immediately to what Richard was referring. And when he did... he was not sure how he felt.

Isabella was across the ball room, engaged in a very animated conversation with a young man whom he did not recognize. He was tall and strapping and a little too handsome for his own good; square features, big, white teeth, perfectly cropped blond hair that Duncan was certain the ladies would relish.

They were only talking. It was nothing scandalous. Duncan watched the two and knew in his heart that he did not need to worry about his wife flirting – she was allowed to speak to whom ever she wanted. But a pit was opening up in his stomach as he watched them both talk, one which was filled with jealousy the likes of which he didn’t know himself capable.

“I... I do not know...” Duncan watched the two, feeling a spark of anger ignite.

“I am sure it is nobody,” Richard said. “Just a friend.”

“Yes...” Duncan continued to watch them, feeling that spark of anger grow like a fire being fed with lumber. “Just a friend, I am sure.”

Duncan wanted a companionable relationship. But he also wanted the depravity and debauchery that he knew Isabella relished – that he craved like a starved animal. And as he watched his wife speaking to another man, he could feel that starved animal rearing its head as if coming awake from a deep slumber.

She was not flirting with him… but that did not mean he could not pretend otherwise. A spark to reignite the passion that was desperately missing from this marriage.

To try and control it for the sake of the marriage? Or to let it loose... also for the sake of the marriage? That was the question that besieged Duncan and he knew that whatever ended up happening, it would come to define his marriage from this day on.

Chapter Twenty-Three

"... I

really am sorry,” the Duke of Hermon apologized. “And were the circumstances any different...”

“It is fine,” Isabella sighed, even if it was not. “I understand completely. You are scared to be embarrassed by a woman, I get it.”

He looked at her flatly. “Does that often work?”

“Does what work?”

“Insulting the man from whom you are asking a favor?”

She shrugged. “If you will notice, I did not start insulting you until after you refused to help me. You have left me no other choice.”

“Ah, I see,” he chuckled. “So, this is a final, and desperate effort to shock me into submission? Or to beat me bloody until I have no choice but to acquiesce to your request.”

“I am desperate,” Isabella said. “And you would be surprised how often that works. Most men would be so concerned with having their ego’s challenged by a woman like me that they would trip over themselves to prove how wrong I am.”

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