Page 31 of The Duke and the Hellion Bride

“Is that what you think? Truly.”

“It is the truth,” Magnus said. “You know my...” He grimaced. “History, as well as anyone. And I as well as anyone know what it is like to feel powerless. To do as others tell me, while pretending that it is as I want. What if she is the same?” He shook his head with guilt. “I cannot do that to her. I will not.”

Magnus bowed his head in shame as memories of his childhood flooded back to him in droves. He had been a sickly child. Weak and withering. Bedridden, for the early years of his life it was believed that one night he would likely go to sleep and simply not wake up – a mercy, most thought this would be.

Yes, he had grown stronger in time. But he would never forget what it was like in those harder days, forced to do as he was told, wanting to appear as if he was not weak and pathetic. Lying to himself and going along with the whims of others simply because there was no other option.

His body shuddered at the memory and finally he had a drink.

“Do you want my opinion?” Theodore said. He threw back the final mouthful of his whiskey and rose to his feet, strolling across the room to refill his glass.

“I did not come here for the pleasure of your company.”

“Your reasoning just now,” Theodore said as he poured himself a fresh drink. “It is the height of, pardon my tongue, bullshit.”

“Excuse me?” Mangus frowned.

“You heard me.” He finished pouring his drink and waltzed back to the couch, falling into it with a grunt before taking another sip and smacking his pink lips. “It is bullshit – an excuse, concocted by you for reasons of... well, I can only assume guilt.”

“Preposterous.” Magnus blew through his lips.

“You continue to bring up your nieces, as if they are all which matter.”

“They are!”

“They are important, no doubt. But they are not the be-all end-all – and I am not trying to insult you,” he said quickly when he saw a flash of anger behind Magnus’ eyes. “You care for them, as you should. But you also feel guilty, blaming yourself for your brother’s death.”

Magnus attempted to wave him down... albeit, weakly. “I do... I do not.”

“His death is not on your hands, Magnus,” Theodore said, his voice turning soft. “And raising his nieces, although it is admirable, will not change what happened.”

“That is not --”

“I am not saying you should not care for them,” he spoke over Magnus. “But what I am saying is that raising them should not take absolute precedence over everything else in your life. You can be happyandsee them raised into respectable women of the ton. The two are not mutually exclusive.”

“Who says I am not happy.”

He scoffed and took another mouthful of whiskey. “And thus we come onto the topic of your lovely wife.”

“Oh...”

“Clearly, you are attracted to her – and do not insult me by saying otherwise.” He waved Magnus down as if to preempt the argument. “And clearly, she has some attraction toward you. Although why she does... tell me, is she blind? You did not say.”

“Funny,” Magnus said very dryly.

“Exploring this attraction is not taking advantage,” he continued. “And using your nieces as an excuse is not nearly the argument you think it is.” He looked at Magnus. “It is a damn shame, if what you told me just now is even half true. Truth be told, I would be shocked if your wife wasn’t at least curious to see where this marriage might go – it's protentional. Because I tell you now, she did not marry you because she has an affinity for raising another man’s children. And unless she is mentally dull, well...” He pumped his eyebrows at Magnus. “I am sure she can raise the girlsandperform her wifely duties.”

“How aptly put.”

“I do have a way with words, don’t I?” He winked and then threw back the rest of his drink in one mouthful. “You deserve to be happy, old friend. And this wife of yours...” He laughed and shook his head. “I always thought that if you were ever to marry, she’d need to have an iron will and a tongue like a whip. It sounds to me like she has both. If anything, she is the one taking advantage of you.”

“Oh, please...” Magnus blew through his lips.

Theodore shrugged. “Just a thought. Just a thought...”

Magnus’ natural inclination was to be dismissive of his best friend. More often than not, Theodore preferred tomfoolery and absurd humor, rather than moments of honesty, so it was usually a safe bet. In fact, try as he might, Magnus couldn’t think of another instance in which his friend had been so darn insightful as this.

Was it possible that he had been overreacting to the clear chemistry that existed between himself and his wife? Even trying to subvert how obvious it was with feelings of guilt and shame felt for what happened to his brother?

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