Page 9 of His Highland Duchess
She snorted. “I am glad ye think so.”
“Personally, I am surprised that you care to ask. After all…” He smirked. “You were not so concerned for my needs when you snuck into my room and –”
“I told ye already!” she cried over him. “I da nae sneak into yer room! And I wish ye would stop saying that I did.”
“I am simply glad that I escaped with my innocence intact,” he continued, a smirk now on his lips. “Asleep as I was, who knows what you might have done were you so inclined.”
“That is nae funny.” She furrowed her brow at him, making certain she was showing no humor. “If anything, I am the one who shuid be wary of ye. For all I ken, this is what ye wished for all along. And now that ye have me…” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Who kens what is going on inside that head. Ye certainly haven’t been very forthcoming.”
“Is that what you think?”
“Ye have given me no reason nae to.” She turned fully to face him, pointing up her chin in an act of defiance.
He said nothing. Studying her. Watching her. Taking note of her outrage and efforts at asserting her position. The duke was tall, but he seemed to stand over her as if he were a giant. He looked down at her, his dark eyes probing. His emotions were hidden behind them as if done so on purpose, and where he was not angry, he wasn’t amused either.
The silence between them grew, and Margaret found herself faltering. He was just so assured of himself. So confident. A presence that might suggest mountains would move out of the way to accommodate him.
Handsome too, Margaret could not deny that. Standing as close to her as he was, the sharp lines of his face seemed more pronounced than usual. As the silence grew, she felt powerless, completely at his mercy, much as had been the case since they first met. She wanted to fight it. She wanted to rebel, as was her way. But also…why dae my knees shoogle and me thighs tinglewhen I think of how effortlessly he kin overpower me? And why will me heart nae stop racing…
“I want three things from you,” he spoke suddenly, cutting through the tension as if with a knife. She breathed finally and almost stepped back into the house. “The first is a simple request, so I trust it will not be an issue.” He waited for her to ask.
“Wh – what is it?”
“I expect you to behave.” A raised eyebrow as if to warn her off a rebuke. “I have done some asking around about you these past two weeks, so I know what I am dealing with.”
“And what is that exactly?”
He scoffed. “You are trouble, Duchess–and do not say otherwise,” he was quick to warn her. “We have not spent much time together, but it has been enough for me to notice your tendency for speaking without thinking and acting without considering the consequences.”
She found herself smirking. “Well, I would hate ta argue.”
“That would be a first.
Her eyes widened. “How dare–”
“I arranged this marriage precisely to avoid controversy, and I do not wish it all to be for naught. So, as long as you are living under my roof, I expect obedience. Is that understood?”
“If ye think I am going ta be treated like a… like a puppy that is in need of training, ye have another thing coming.”
“Not at all,” he assured her. “I just expect you to act the part. We both have a role to play, at least until the rumor of how this marriage came to be dies down. Which brings me to the second thing.” Again, he waited for her to ask the question.
“Which is?” she asked with a sigh as if bored. Her hope was that it might annoy him, as she found she liked when he was frustrated.Although why that is…
“When the Season is over, I do not expect you to remain here. I know this is not the marriage you expected, and nor is it one I wished for. Therefore, should we make it through the Season without incident, you will be free to return to Scotland where, if you are lucky, you might never see or hear from me again.”
“Ye… ye want me ta leave?” She blinked in surprise, completely off guard by this announcement.
“Do you not wish to?”
“Yes,” she said quickly. “Of course I da.”
“Then, there is no problem.”
There shouldn’t have been. And when Margaret forced herself to meet the duke’s gaze, she could see in his eyes that he was not making light of this situation. He meant every word.
Margaret felt a stirring in her stomach. Was that hope? If so, why did she feel so ill? This is what she wanted, or what she should have been begging for. A short marriage, no expectations, a chance for her life to continue, should nothing go wrong. Yet despite herself, she felt unsure, as if somethingwaswrong, although she could not say what that was…
“I would have thought you would be happy,” the duke said, seeming to sense her reservations.
