Page 60 of An Unwanted Spinster for the Duke

Waiting for her to beg him to come inside and finish what they had started. She could not even bring herself to be angry with him for the way he had spoken to Victoria.

Marianne pulled the door open, and her breath came out in a whoosh. It was not Dominic at all.

Instead, Daphne stood in the doorway, twisting her nightgown in her hands.

“Can I sleep in your room tonight?” she asked sweetly, looking worried, probably unsettled by the unfamiliar environment.

Trying to hide her disappointment and relief, Marianne smiled at her sister and beckoned her inside. “Of course, darling. Come in.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

“You certainly seem to be in a foul mood again, Victoria,” Marianne remarked in an amused tone.

The following morning, she spread a blanket on the grass outside. She and her sisters were fortunate that Oakmere Hall had several large trees to accommodate what they had in mind.

A picnic.

Daphne chased butterflies, her bonnet swinging around her neck. Wilhelmina brought along one of her new books, but it remained on her lap, still largely unread. Meanwhile, Victoria sat with her arms folded tightly across her chest, her expression pinched and sulky—as if she’d bitten into a tamarind she disliked but refused to spit it out of sheer stubbornness.

Marianne passed around portions of cheese, tarts and a bit of cake Cook had prepared for them and Mrs. Alderwick had recommended.

Victoria pulled the crust of her tart and chewed on it before mumbling, “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Right,” Marianne said drily, giving her a pointed look.

“I-It’s just that, last night, I didn’t mean to anger him. I was just trying to tease him a little, but I might have offended him,” Victoria admitted, staring into the distance.

“The Duke?” Marianne asked, though she knew full well that it was the answer. She just had not expected Victoria to still feel bad about it the next day.

“Yes. You heard the things I asked him last night? I believe I went too far.”

“Ah. Don’t worry about it. He’s just a grump. He’ll recover soon. Or not,” Marianne reassured her, thinking that Dominic certainly felt recovered when he kissed her last night.

She could still feel his hands on her, and every time she thought about it, her whole body erupted in flames.

Daphne giggled at her words. They didn’t even know the girl had stopped chasing butterflies.

Victoria gave an uncertain smirk. “Still,” she continued, brushing crumbs from her skirt. She’d somehow inhaled the whole tart during the pause. “He looked at me as if he’d send me far, far away. Maybe to a nunnery?”

Marianne chuckled at the visual.

“He looks at everyone like that, my dear,” she said, even though her thoughts drifted to how he looked at her last night.

Her husband had looked at her as if she were his last meal and he would die without it.

She shook her head at the thought. What was she thinking?

“And he’s always like this with you?” Victoria really wanted to know.

Marianne paused and hummed. “Well, he is a quiet man. He enjoys his silence and solitude.”

“Are you all right with that?” Victoria asked, arching an eyebrow. “He asked to marry you. He should expect more companionship. More activity, and even noise.”

Marianne wondered how her sister could still act so much younger than her age most of the time but also spout wisdom beyond her years like she just had.

Victoria simply did whatever she wanted.

“He is just reserved,” Marianne said simply, her hands busy with the jar of jam.