Page 40 of The Scottish Duke
Standing, he went to her. “There’s nothing I can do about your hands. We have to buy you better gloves.”
“I can’t afford a cottage, Your Grace, but I can get my own gloves.”
She was stubborn, a trait he’d already noticed, but at least she wasn’t foolish. She’d come with him without a fuss. She’d known there was no possibility of remaining in Wittan.
“The reverend is a fool,” he said.
“The reverend is Church of Scotland.” She smiled. “He was only spouting what he believed. I am the Whore of Babylon to him. I’m the epitome of all things bad and horrible. Children should be spared the sight of me. Men are tempted by me. I’m an example to women of what not to do. The wages of sin and all that.”
He guided her to one of the two overstuffed chairs in the cottage’s parlor.
“All that?” he said as she removed his greatcoat and sat.
“All that,” she said.
He placed his coat on her lap so she wouldn’t get cold, letting his knuckles graze the curve of her stomach.
“You should rest,” he said.
“I’ve already taken a nap. I feel like I sleep all the time.”
“You were tired.”
“I’ve been tired for the last month,” she said, smiling.
His command of the English language often failed him around her. Another irritant to add to the list.
He glanced toward the fire. “A puny effort,” he said. “I need more kindling.”
“I think it’s well done for the first one you’ve made in years.”
How did she know that?
Her smile was teasing rather than mocking, an expression that deserved a response. He smiled back at her. They were, in that moment, in perfect accord.
Naked, they hadn’t had any difficulty communicating. Perhaps he should just shut up and kiss her, a thought that had the effect of emptying his mind.
For a long moment he simply stared at her.
“I’ve sent for Mrs.McDermott,” he finally said, sanity coming back to him in short bursts. “Also, a contingent of maids to set the cottage to rights.”
She glanced around her. “All I see is a little dust,” she said. “I could take care of that.”
“You have enough to do.”
“What have I to do?” she asked, again with that teasing smile.
“Unpack your trunk. Settle in. Prepare yourself for being a mother.”
She looked up at him and there were questions in her eyes. Once more he wanted to say something to her, but the words wouldn’t form. He wanted to ease her mind about the future, to apologize for the cruelty she’d endured today. He wanted to offer some explanation for the world in which they lived, a society that held women to account but not men. Most of all, he wanted to do something more than stand there, ducal and authoritarian, maker of an inept fire.
“I’ve also sent for Peter,” he said. “He’s one of our footmen.”
“I know him,” she said. “Very tall, bright blond hair and a contagious smile.”
He nodded. “That’s Peter. He’s going to be assigned to you. Send him to Blackhall if you need anything at all. Plus, I’m having your meals delivered three times a day. That way you won’t have to worry about cooking.”
She was blinking rapidly. “You’ve been very kind,” she said.
