Page 99 of Surrender Your Grace
“It worked.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Although… If you defy me again, don’t think there won’t be consequences.”
She looked up, eyes glittering. “Promise?”
He smiled, pure sin. “Eager for more?”
She curled into him. “Greedy when it ends like this.”
They lay quietly, heartbeats steady. Her head rose and fell with his breath.
“It’s over,” she whispered. “She’s out of my life, and I feel…”
“Relieved?”
“I thought you were asleep.”
“Not when your mind is restless. What do you feel, sweet pea?”
“Heartbroken. Somewhere deep down, I’ll miss the version of my sister who used to braid my hair and sneak tarts with me.”
“That girl left long ago. Now you have something better. Stronger.”
She smiled faintly. “You.”
He pulled her close. “Us.”
Chapter 28
The morning sun slanted through the east dining room with all the subtlety of a battle cry. Maggie sat at the far end of the gleaming mahogany table, ignoring the spread of eggs, scones, and delicate jams—cranberry today, not blackberry, which felt like an insult. Her hair hung loose, unpinned and stubborn, because the sheer effort of fussing with it was beyond her.
Across from her, Duncan, freshly returned from some early errand, buttering his toast like a man without mortal concerns.
“Good morning,” Cici said brightly as she swept into the room.
Andrew stood as any proper gentleman should, waving off the footman in favor of attending to his wife himself.
“I trust you slept well, Your Grace?” the earl asked brightly, with a cheerfulness that set Maggie’s teeth on edge.
She interrupted, her tone sweet and savage. “I did, thank you for asking. I dreamt of your execution. It was lovely—there were flowers and confetti.”
Duncan didn’t miss a beat. “Were they lilies?”
“Pansies,” she replied cheerily. “Far more celebratory.”
Andrew coughed into his copy ofThe Times, while Cici nudged her shin discreetly beneath the table.
“Kick me if you like,” Maggie hissed her anger boiling over, “but I won’t sit here like a good little miss, silent and compliant, while my life is managed for me.” She glared at her brotherand demanded, “Is it true, Andrew? You arranged for a special license?”
“I did,” he said, folding his newspaper with deliberate calm. “Mother wants the marriage expedited. Your behavior has been atrocious, and I don’t mean only your secret sleuthing. You’ve been short with the household staff, demanding in public, and you ran up an outrageous bill at the shops.”
“If I’m to travel to the wilds of Scotland, I can’t do it in silk and satin slippers. I needed an entire new wardrobe, so I don’t freeze to death.”
“I’m certain Duncan won’t let that happen.”
“Correct. I’d prefer not having an icicle in my bed,” he muttered between bites of breakfast.
Maggie glared at him while her brother continued listing her misdeeds. Someone had noticed her efforts at least.
