Page 26 of The Scarred Duke's Bride
He put a hand to his chest, “Oh God forbid!” he said mockingly.
Her eyes narrowed further, “Are you making a game of me?”
“Not at all. My sentiments were sincere.You’rethe one who chose to snap at me because of them.”
“Humph…” Freya shot him suspicious glances now and then, but his face remained impassive.
“When did your mother shuffle off the mortal coil?”
She looked sharply at him to see if he was smiling. Her face only softened when she saw how serious he was. She cleared her throat. “I was but a decade old, my sister half that. She died in childbirth. My little brother followed a week later.”
His lips turned down. “That is tragic. And your father never remarried?”
She shrugged. “I think he did try. But his ornery nature is widely known, and he would not take just anyone.”
Eric slowly smiled, “That is…paradoxical.”
Freya laughed. “You may go ahead and let your amusement out. I do recognize the irony of wanting very specific things when all you have to offer is a mean tongue and a stingy hand, not to mention two young half-wild children to take care of.”
He grimaced. “When you put it like that it sounds…”
“Unpleasant?”
He inclined his head in silent acknowledgment.
“Well, you can imagine having to live that life.”
He sighed. “For what it may be worth to you, I am sorry that your life has come to this.”
“But not sorry enough to do anything about it.”
He gave her a startled look, “Do something? Like what?”
“You could have refused my father’s offer when he first made it.”
Eric threw back his head and laughed. “You overestimate my power in this situation. If I had refused him, your father would simply have sold all his unentailed property and left you and your sister destitute. Would you have preferred that?"
Freya blinked in confusion, surprised to find that she was shocked that her father could have done such a thing to her and Isabella. She knew he’d long lamented that they were not the boys he wanted, but somehow she’d still assumed that beneath the bluster, he truly cared for them.
"So, you see, little miss Freya, you and I are in the same boat. We both need this marriage.”
She looked up at him, brow furrowing in suspicion. “You are telling me this so that I can be on your side. It is not the truth.”
He shrugged. “If you don’t believe me, ask your father.”
ChapterThirteen
Eric sat opposite Freya on the grass as they listened to the orchestra play. The lady’s maid and the footman had arranged their picnic and then withdrawn to a discreet distance out of direct sight. Freya ate her food with fierce focus, ignoring all of Eric’s attempts to make conversation.
He was a little put out that she would think he was lying about her father’s words. Aside from the fact that he would never do such a thing, it was clear just from Freya’s conversation what a cold calculating man the Duke of Riverhead was. He could not understand how she could know that and still believe that he would see to their needs unconditionally.
He shook his head inwardly. What a hold parents have on their offspring however horribly they’re treated.
He thought of his own father and the standards he imposed upon his family.
He is the reason I am here, enduring this arranged marriage in the hopes of winning my family a title. It was his dream.
He realized he was just as subject to his father’s wishes as Freya was to hers. He decided to treat her a little more patiently as a result. No one liked to discover that their parent had feet of clay.
