Page 99 of The Wicked Marquess Takes a Wife

“Yet you broke it without another thought.”

“I did not break it. I—”

“Allowing that girl to feed the mare is akin to breaking the tradition, and I assure you, no one is pleased.”

Elizabeth stood. “Are you certain we attended the same festival? Because the villagers did not seem displeased in the least.”

The Dowager laughed cynically. “They will pretend to approve before you, but they will talk once you are not present. For all your cleverness, you are not very knowledgeable about the ways of the world.”

“I am sure you are the only one displeased with my actions.” Elizabeth refused to stand there and argue with her, thus, she moved past the Dowager to the door.

“Do you know how your husband suffered to cleanse this family’s name when his father ruined it?”

Elizabeth stopped and turned around, her nerves tense. “What did he do?”

“My grandson will tell you if he deems you worthy of knowing.” The look in the Dowager’s eyes was more poisonous than her words, and Elizabeth flinched. “I will have you know, however, that you will not undo everything he has accomplished.”

“I know I am not the Marchioness either of you wanted, but it cannot be changed. If you cannot accept me, then please maintain your distance so that I will no longer offend you.” Elizabeth turned to open the door.

“It should never have been you,” the Dowager threw at her before she opened the door and left.

Elizabeth’s choler rose, but she tamped it down as much as she could. She had been patient with the Dowager, but no more. Elizabeth moved to the conservatory and sat on the ledge of a fountain with a statue that she only just now realized was Athena. She had strived to be like the goddess since she was a child, but she was feeling lost at this moment.

The distraction of the approval she had found at the festival was only meant to mask the truth around her. Of course, she did not believe the Dowager when the woman said no one was pleased Elizabeth had broken tradition, but what the Dowager said about Rhys doing things to cover the ruin that had once fallen on the family name was strange.

Elizabeth had been hoping he would tell her everything, but she was beginning to think that he never might. Perhaps he thought he could never trust her with his deepest secrets. She leaned forward and covered her face with her hands, sighing.

After a while, she decided to find Rhys to talk to him about the festival. She had not truly considered his image when she invited Heather to feed the mare. He had seemed pleased with her, but she wanted to be certain she had not gone over a boundary she was not supposed to cross. No matter what, she loved him and wanted him to be happy.

She found him in the front hall with Redman, who was just leaving. Rhys frowned with concern when he saw her, and he immediately asked, “Is something the matter, Liza?”

She shook her head then smiled at Redman as he bowed before leaving them. “May I speak with you?” she asked Rhys.

“What did my grandmother do?” Rhys asked, coming to wrap an arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders. His warmth made her feel better, but she was still conflicted about his reasons for not trusting her. She had tried to ignore the Dowager’s words about her not being worthy, but it was becoming increasingly difficult not to believe it.

“She is not pleased with me for breaking Cullfield’s tradition,” she replied when they were in his study.

“You did not break any tradition, Elizabeth,” he said gently. “As I told you, you honored a little girl, and I greatly admire you for it.”

She swallowed, her emotions high and restless. Her desire for acceptance had clouded her thinking and made her believe what she should not and disbelieve what she should. Rhys cared for her. She could see it all around them.

“My grandmother tends to give excessive importance to things.” He drew her close. “Do not allow her anger to make you unhappy.”

Elizabeth leaned into his embrace, feeling better. He was right. The Dowager was angry Elizabeth was Rhys’ wife instead of someone the woman was fond of, and she was punishing Elizabeth for it.

“What did Redman say?” she asked, seeking to divert the course of their conversation.

“The man we are looking for was seen leaving Dorset, so Redman’s associate has followed the trail.”

“I hope he finds him.”

“So do I, My Darling.” Rhys’ arms tightened around her. “I want us to forget these horrid events and be happy.”

Elizabeth recalled what he had told her in the carriage the day they visited the foundling home about children and happiness and him not deserving it. She studied his expression before she began her question. “Rhys, your grandmother mentioned something about this family’s name being soiled by your father—”

Rhys immediately stiffened. She could not read his mien, but she knew she had found the door she had been searching for.

“What happened?” she whispered.

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