Page 34 of The Scarred Duke's Bride
“Well, I am not a lady, yet so no one cares what I do or say.”
Eric frowned, seeing the sadness in that statement. “Well, if it means anything to you, I care.”
She beamed at him. “Oh, I think that we are going to be friends. Which is a relief because I did not want to lose my sister once she married. We were so afraid that you would be just awful.”
Eric cocked his head in surprise and smiled. “Are you saying that I am not, in fact, awful?”
“You are most definitely not awful, thankfully. I’m glad you and your family came to stay here. It’s so much better now than it was with just the two of us and Mrs. Beecham.”
Eric pursed his lips, trying to hide how moved he was by her sincerity. “We shall try to keep it so, my dear,” he said softly.
* * *
Freya was trying her best to listen to Mrs. Campbell while keeping one eye on Eric and Isabella. Heaven knew what they might be discussing. She had spent the afternoon hiding in her garden, but still, the image of him sitting in the tub, his very long legs hanging off the edge with his surprisingly shapely feet facing her, would not leave her mind. She could hardly bear to look at him lest her face combust.
The butler came in to announce that supper was served, and she stood up with relief. As the current matriarch in the room, it stood to reason that Eric would escort his mother to the dining room while William offered his arm to both Freya and Isabella.
He seemed just as happy as she was with the arrangement, which conversely made her feel annoyed. He seemed altogether too calm and unmoved to her jaundiced eye. She wanted him to be just as unsettled by their afternoon encounter as she was. Tonight, they would be expected to share a bed again, and she did not know how she was going to do that.
She contemplated moving into one of the other rooms on the floor, but in truth, she had always hated the South wing—avoided it if she could. It held too many bad memories. She did not think she could pass the night alone in that wing. Sleeping with Eric seemed to be the only viable option much as she hated it.
“Pass the salt please," Isabella said from the other side of the table, and Freya smiled as she picked up the shaker. A frisson of guilt went through her as she realized that she had spent little to no time with Isabella since she had been back. Her sister gave her back a smile, but Freya did not miss the sadness in it.
She resolved to spend some time with Isabella before going to bed.
Her sister was still the most precious thing she had in the world. The only family who still loved her.
“The flowers are lovely,” Mrs. Campbell said, pointing to the vase in the middle of the table. “Did you pick them, Freya?”
Freya looked to the middle of the table, the first time she noticed the flowers. She recognized them from her garden and frowned. “No, I did not pick them…I don’t know who did.”
She had not seen anyone come or go as she’d lay on the grass, hiding between rose bushes. It disturbed her a bit that someone was picking her roses behind her back.
“It was me,” Isabella piped up. “I wanted you to have something nice for your first supper back.”
Freya felt a lump in her throat as she smiled at her sister. “That was tremendously thoughtful of you. Thank you.”
Isabella smiled tentatively. “So, you’re not angry with me?”
“Of course, not.” She stood up and walked around the table to embrace her sister. “Why would I be angry with you?”
“Well…” Isabella looked around the table and blushed. “You’ve been ignoring me since you came.”
“Oh Izzy, I am so sorry. I have a lot on my mind.”
Isabella nodded. “It’s all right. I understand. You’re a married woman now. You have no time for-” “No! No, no, that is not it at all, Izzy. I was simply distracted today.”
Her sister nodded, a frown marring her brow, still looking doubtful. “All right,” she said quietly.
“After dinner, will you play the harpsichord? I shall play the piano. We’ll have a grand old time.”
Isabella’s face lit up. “Oh yes, I should love that.”
“Then that’s what we shall do.” She went back to her seat, noting the beaming smile on Mrs. Campbell’s face while Eric focused on his food, not looking at anyone. William was already asking Isabella why she hadn’t told him that she played the harpsichord.
Freya took a deep breath.Whatever happens, I must not get so lost in myself that I neglect my family.
* * *
