Page 15 of A Bride for the Scottish Duke (The Gentleman’s Vow #5)
CHAPTER 15
Eammon
T o say that the view before him was shocking would be an understatement. How dare this young woman make her way into his study without his permission?
It wasn’t that he kept any grand secrets in the space, but it was his, and he would never presume to enter her private area unannounced or uninvited. Given her reaction the day before, when she’d claimed she would rather sleep in the stables than next to his chamber, this did raise some questions.
In any case, finding her there immediately set him on edge.
“May I help you, Your Grace?” he said in as even a tone as he could manage.
“No,” she replied. “In fact, I was only exploring the estate, and since I had no one to accompany me, I didn’t know which chamber I was entering.”
“I see. So you were confused about where you currently are, trying to ascertain what this chamber could possibly be?” he asked, sarcasm dripping from each word. “In the future, perhaps I can offer a hint: If you stumble on a chamber that is closed and find yourself faced with a large desk, numerous books, and scattered papers, it’s likely you’ve entered a gentleman’s private study, and it would be prudent to exit posthaste.”
Even though he was perturbed by her presence, he couldn’t deny that her flushed face under his rebuke amused him. Of course, she had no idea which chamber she was in. She had been nosy, not that he could blame her.
“Your Grace…I only meant to familiarize myself with my new home, especially since I had nobody to guide me in my venture,” she said indignantly.
She was infuriating, there was no denying it, yet he found something charming about the way her cheeks reddened and how she stood with her hands curled into fists like a petulant child. The early afternoon light streaming through the tall windows gave her a certain glow. There was something almost ethereal about her. She was petite, with delicate features reminiscent of the elves he had read about in various novels.
A part of him wished she wouldn’t be quite so stubborn, as it might make him more willing to take Mrs. Frames’s advice and share dinner with her. Indeed, perhaps share more than that.
They were married now, after all. He had spent the night tossing and turning, contemplating his changed circumstances. It couldn’t be denied that they would have to make something of this. He was not yet thirty, and she was all of eighteen. God willing, they had very long lives ahead of them, and if they could not find a way to make peace with one another, it would be a very long and strenuous life, indeed.
But there was a problem. He knew the reason for her curiosity, her snooping—she did not understand why he had insisted on their marriage. He couldn’t blame her; she deserved to know. But he could not tell her that he’d married her to gain access to the Book of Confidences. She would wonder why he would want to possess it and likely assume there were secrets about him within. Then she would know he wasn’t legitimate.
He could never tell her that. The very reason he had married her was to ensure that no one but his immediate family knew the truth. He could not bring another into his confidence. He did not know her well enough. Besides, she was so angry about the arrangement that it was very possible she would use the knowledge to force the end of their marriage. For it would most certainly qualify as fraud.
“I understood this was your study,” she said, drawing him out of his thoughts. “I was going to leave as soon as I realized my error, but then I was taken in by this portrait. It is beautiful.”
“It is indeed,” he replied. “One of the best painters of the era created it. He also painted a portrait of Queen Caroline.”
“Is this your family? she asked, pointing to the portrait.
He nodded. “Yes, my father, my mother, and my sisters. You will meet my sisters soon.
She looked back at the portrait, and he examined her profile. Her nose sloped slightly at the end. As she examined it, she pushed her chin forward, which gave her features a sharper angle. She was beautiful—there was no denying that.
“You do not look much like them,” she observed. Immediately, his tender thoughts about her appearance vanished, and he pulled his shoulders back, standing straighter as if to assert his position.
“Do I not?” he asked, slightly apprehensive, as he sensed the shift in her expression.
“I did not mean for it to be insulting. Just that you must’ve taken after your grandparents,” she replied.
“I am not insulted. Queen Victoria does not resemble either of her parents, either, I’m told. It is not unusual,” he said. “Perhaps you should read novels other than romance to broaden your horizons.” Was he being too defensive? Perhaps, but he would show her no weakness. He would give her no reason to think there was anything amiss when it came to his station. He had worked long and hard to become as influential as he was, and he was not going to let anything stand in his way.
He had done too much to secure his position. His father had done too much.
“I am rather well-read,” she fired back. “My father had one of the largest libraries in England at Pembroke, and once I receive my inheritance, I shall have a great many of those books. It is written so in my inheritance papers. Although, of course, any books I might have received are now your property.”
He pressed his lips together and studied her before replying.
“It is true that everything you inherit will belong to me, as I am a man and you are not. But I would not presume to take possession of anything that is personally yours or anything to which you have an attachment. As for your books, you may choose any of our three libraries and fill them with as many books as you like. Any that you do not like can be moved to the other libraries.”
He shrugged. “Now, since we are discussing things that belong to you, I wanted to let you know that when I returned, I saw your horse, Ambrose, being delivered. He should be in soon.”
At once, all strain melted away from her, and her lips parted, forming an ‘O’ shape. He noted the soft redness on her lips.
“May I go see him now?” she asked eagerly.
“Your Grace,” he said, “you may go wherever you wish, whenever you wish, as much as you like. As much as you might like to pretend that this is a prison, it is not. It is your home. However, I might suggest that I accompany you to the stables so you do not inadvertently stumble on another chamber you do not recognize and should not enter.”
She puckered her lips and stared at him, clearly contemplating a sharp reply. Yet the prospect of seeing her horse evidently disarmed her, and he was pleased when she simply nodded and followed him out of the study.