Page 63 of The Unwanted Duchess

“You seem to have grown up in the same way I did,” she sighed. “Fortunately, at least I had Diana, and so even when we were doing the work of ten servants, we had each other for company. You sound as though you had nobody at all.”

“That is not strictly true. I had my mother for a good few years. Not long enough at all, but there could never have been enough time. She was a gift to this world, and she deserved far better than the husband she had. I had never wanted to be in a marriage where one’s hand was forced, having seen what it did to her. She was so vibrant, and that is not me misremembering. It is my staff that had such strong memories of her.”

“And I suppose you do too?” she asked.

“Of course, and most of them were made in this very room,” he sighed, tilting his head back. “That pianoforte, for example. She played it each night when my father had retired to his bedchambers or when he was not home. She played it louder when he was not home at all. I learned a little, but I could never do it as well as she could, even if I did enjoy it.”

“I enjoy the pianoforte. It has never been my strongest suit, to be sure, but I enjoy listening to my sister play.”

“She could paint too, exceptionally well,” he continued. “She was able to do that far more often as it did not make too much noise. It was an easier thing to hide.”

“It is awful that she had to hide it from her own husband. I cannot fathom how lonely she must have been although she had you and your brothers for company.”

“She only had me,” he sighed. “My brothers were more interested in pleasing our father. They thought that if they favored him, he would favor them in return. That did happen, of course, but that did not change the fact that I was better equipped to handle his funds. I spent as much time with her as I could, although my father hated it, and I am glad that I did. It meant that, in spite of the small amount of time that we had together, I am to this day still able to remember her so well.”

“She was fortunate to have a son like you. You are a good man, and I hope that you know that.”

Graham smiled, but he could not respond. Was he a good man? He had tried to do all of the right things which he had learned from watching his father and doing the exact opposite of what he did, but did simply being better make him good? He looked at his wife, a faint smile on her lips, and he wanted to protect her with everything in him and give her the very best that he could, but he did not know how. He had never learnedhow.

She was so close to him that he could feel her heat, and when her eyes met his, he wanted to close the gap entirely, but he did not dare. Their kiss on their wedding day had been customary,and he was sure that that was all it was for her, and surely, that had not changed. She was so wonderful, and he could not bring himself to believe that she felt anything for him beyond companionship and pity. He could not do it; he could not kiss her.

“We are to go to dinner tonight,” he said instead, “with Lord Drowshire.”

“Ah, yes, I remember,” she replied, sounding almost disappointed. “I must say, I cannot wait to see Penelope again. In amongst all of this, I am so glad to have at least found a friend.”

“Am I a friend to you?” he asked, and she furrowed her brows.

He shouldn’t have asked, and he knew that, but he could not help himself. He wanted to know, needed to know, because he felt so much for her that he had to know whether or not he was wishing in vain. It had hit him all at once although, now that he thought about it, it had been there all along. She had made him feel a way that no other lady had, and he could not give it a name that made any sense. He needed her to give it a name so that he could accept it.

“A friend?” she echoed. “If that is what you want.”

Was it? Graham could not be sure, but he knew how much he liked being around her and how much better everything felt when she was near him. He wanted her to always be near him,and he was almost ashamed of that after he had trapped her in a marriage with him.

Just like his mother, she had deserved better, and just like his father, he had married her anyway. It had been cruel of him, and she wanted to be his friend regardless. It was not what he wanted — he wanted more — but he had to be grateful for it nonetheless. It was more than he deserved,shewas more than he deserved, and yet there she was doing everything she could for him.

“I would love to be friends,” he replied, “if that is all right with you.”

“Of course.”

But she seemed upset as she said it. He wanted her to be honest with him, but it was no surprise to him that she could not bring herself to be. It was confusing, however, because she had seemed so happy with him, and now, she seemed the opposite. He wondered what she wanted from him, and how he could give it to her, but he could not solve either problem. All that he could do was look at her and will her to speak her mind.

“I ought to prepare for tonight,” she said gently, standing to leave. “I shall see you later.”

“What color are you wearing tonight?” he asked suddenly.

“Green,” she said with uncertainty. “Emerald green, I was thinking. Would that be all right?”

“Of course. I was only asking because I was hoping to wear the same. Wouldthatbe all right?”

There was a quiet moment between them.

“Yes,” she said at last, “I would like that a lot.”

CHAPTER 21

Samantha hated being confused more than anything, and nothing was more confusing than the Duke.

She had thought that they were going to kiss, and she was so wanting him to, but then he had pulled away and called her his friend. That was not his fault, of course, because that had been the deal from the start, but that did not make it hurt any less.

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