Page 32 of The Phantom Duke
“To use your name, Maria. Nothing else. You are my wife now…”
He left the rest unsaid. Her wide, round eyes were locked on his and spoke volumes of her comprehension of his meaning. She snatched her hands from his, and he felt a stab of regret.
“I will not be taken advantage of,” she said as she turned away and marched down the aisle.
“Where are you going?” Damien demanded.
“To fetch Gilbert. As you agreed I could,” Maria called back. “Or did you forget that?”
He watched her go. Aware of Simon at his shoulder.
“I do believe you may have met your match,” Simon said.
“So does she. You are both wrong,” Damien said.
CHAPTER 10
“Your Grace!” Rosie greeted Maria at the orphanage.
Maria forced a smile. “You know about that already?”
“Doctor Drayford showed us all the banns in the local newspaper. Very exciting, ain’t it?” Rosie enthused.
“Yes, I suppose so,” Maria replied. It was exciting, though maybe not in the way that Rosie assumed. “How are Gilbert and the others?”
“Getting better, Miss…I mean, Your Grace,” Rosie said as though enjoying using the title.
“Please, Rosie. I have known you for a number of years. Can we dispense with the formalities?”
Rosie looked scandalized that a duchess would not want to be referred to using the correct honorific, and Maria could not explain to her why the title had soured on her.
Not that it was ever entirely welcome. Not my choice, but rather the choice of my father.
Damien’s words to her in the church of all places still haunted her. They conjured images that she could not dispel, images of him removing her night gown and cupping her bare breasts. She imagined how he would gaze at her, his eyes dark and smoldering.
Maria imagined herself entrapped in his strong embrace, just like she had been on the stairwell, and his mouth merciless and hungry against her own. Worse, those images were not entirely unwelcome.
I am not a courtesan to give myself to a powerful man simply because he expects it. I have independence and agency. I will choose to whom I give myself. And I will choose when!
“I am still getting used to the idea of being married, let alone being a duchess. It is strange to me. Now, the children?”
“Come and see, Your Grace, come and see,” Rosie said, leading Maria into the orphanage.
Maria’s answer reached her soon after stepping inside. The building was alive with the sound of children. Happy children.Maria sighed in relief. A tension she had been even unaware of herself carrying seemed to loosen inside her. Rosie beamed over her shoulder at Maria as they walked through the building, not to the dormitories but to the door that led to the main assembly hall. At the doors, Maria stopped, amazed.
Many of the children were there, being herded into rows by the orphanage assistants. Maria did a quick headcount and estimated that two-thirds of the children seemed to be there. Some still coughed. Some looked pale and not long out of their sickbeds, but all were on their feet, laughing and shouting as children ought to be.
One boy, in particular, looked back over his shoulder, then broke away from his fellows. He ran on sturdy legs, dodged an orphanage lady who tried to catch him, and sprinted straight to Maria. She laughed aloud as she scooped little Gilbert from his feet and whirled him around.
“Gilbert! You are well!” she exclaimed.
“You came back!” Gilbert blurted, his arms about Maria’s neck. He clutched her tightly.
“I said that I would, didn’t I? I said we would have breakfast together, and so we will.”
“I’ve had breakfast. I had porridge,” Gilbert said, wrinkling his nose.
“Well, very soon now you could have toast and jam and bacon and sausages and anything at all. Would you like that?” Maria asked.
