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The duke groaned with frustration and rubbed his eyes. “That is not what this is, Margaret. Do not twist my words.”

“I twist nothing. Perhaps if ye were clearer on what ye wanted, I would nae be left to interpret as I have been. Like a blind man trying to find his way down a hallway he’s never walked before. It’s nae wonder I so often stumble into rooms where I am nae allowed.”

Things were growing heated between them again, and Margaret wasn’t in the least bit surprised.

Oh sure, she knew this was not the right tactic to take if she wanted clarification, but she simply could not help herself.

She even agreed about the puppy, knowing it to be wrong of her to simply adopt it, and still, she dug in her heels stubbornly.

I am just so sick of having nae control over anything. Worse, the duke takes this as a given.

She was expecting Lysander to take up the assault as he always did, his pride demanding it.

Considering too how rudely he had dismissed her earlier, she was under no false impressions about how he was feeling.

What was more, she wanted him to. It was a story she was starting to get used to.

They would fight. Their arousals would peak.

And then he would be on her. Nothing would be said, but answers would be given, and when they were done, all would be forgiven.

Not that this would solve anything, she realized in that moment. Despite how much she wanted it, for it was an easy and right feeling, after what had just happened with Julian, she knew that this time she could not let it come to that. They needed to talk. They needed… they needed answers.

“This isn’t about the puppy, is it?” he said, tempering his anger. In fact, he almost looked regretful as he stared down at her.

“Maybe…”

“When I found you just now, my intent was not to scold you. I was worried for you, Margaret. In fact…” He shook his head to himself as if he could not believe what he was about to say. “I was coming to apologize.”

She blinked. “Ye were?”

“The way I spoke to you in front of Julian – the way that I dismissed you. It was not your fault, and nothing you did was the cause. That was my…” His shoulders slumped, and he exhaled. “My own issues, which I am still very much coming to terms with.”

Margaret looked at the duke in surprise. He was not an emotionally vulnerable man, and she sensed that he never liked to admit fault where he could help it. But she could see in him a need to open to her, as if he were waiting for her to give him permission.

“Do you wish to talk about it?” she asked carefully as she scratched under Spotty’s floppy ears.

“Not really,” he chuckled bitterly. “But I think that we must. When I came to you yesterday evening, what I thought I was doing was clearing the air between us. I see now that I have only made things more confusing.”

She laughed softly. “Nae everything. Some things…” She looked him over suggestively. The wet made his shirt stick to him, through which she could see the dark hairs of his chest. Oh, how she wanted to run her fingers through them. “Some things between us could nae be clearer.”

He laughed with her, noticing where her eyes had strayed, and grinning. “On that, at least, we can agree. But that is also the problem. I…” He considered her for a moment before indicating the arm of the sofa. “May I?”

“Please.” She shuffled over slightly.

He sat on the sofa’s arm and draped his arm over the back.

Margaret half wished that his hand might find her back instead, or her thigh.

As they both agreed, where their attraction was concerned, there were no questions about how they felt.

But this is nae about attraction. Nae anymore.

Where it might be nice, I think he sees now that more is needed if we are to survive.

“You know that I’ve been married before,” he began, looking at her for confirmation.

She nodded once. “What you likely do not know is how…” He clicked his tongue.

“I do not want to say unhappy, for I never looked at it as such. Rather, it was plain. There was no love between my first wife and me. No passion or desire or…” His eyes roamed over her, and she could see him losing focus.

Despite herself, Margaret shifted the dog to cover her body.

The duke pulled himself away and shook his head.

“It was a marriage designed for one purpose. Children.”

“A success then,” she laughed awkwardly.

He also chuckled. “I suppose so. The point is that I preferred things this way. It made it easy for me. There was no confusion or pretext. I was able to live as I always have, worrying not for anyone but myself. And my daughters, of course,” he made sure to add.

“But my views toward marriage have changed considerably. Such that when we wed, I was expecting much the same.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” she said with a coy smile that she could not help.

“I did not expect this,” he continued, shuffling a little closer. “Indeed, when you first arrived, I was at pains to ensure that nothing grew between you and me. Truthfully, I was scared that something might, for I was not equipped to deal with such things.”

“Aurelia and Lenora…”

“I thought it best that you avoid them entirely, for the same reason. I told you that I believed you would be a bad influence, which was half true,” he laughed softly as his hand moved from the back of the chair to the back of her neck.

His fingers traced her skin lightly, and she had to suppress the urge to moan.

“More than that, I worried that if you and I grew too close…” He shook his head.

Margaret saw her chance then and took it. “It does nae have ta be that way. The Season will end soon enough, I will be gone, and ye can return to pretending that I do nae exist.”

“But you do exist,” he said, looking at her softly, his smile just as much.

“Is that… is that such a bad thing?”

“You undo me, Margaret. Even when we first met, I knew then that you were unlike any woman I had ever known. I thought I would be able to control myself. That once I got to know you better, I would see that you were wrong for me, and for my daughters, and that would be the end of it.”

“Again, so sorry ta disappoint.” She sat herself up and moved closer, one hand resting now on his thigh as he continued to stroke the back of her neck.

The puppy lay nuzzled in her lap, but it was practically forgotten as they gazed fully at one another; the orange flames from the hearth setting their skin alight as if they had both caught fire.

“I want you,” the duke said, his voice turning soft. “And where I do not wish to be presumptuous, I assume the same can be said of you.”

She smiled sheepishly and nodded, looking away only to look back just as quickly. Needing him to see just how true his words were.

“It is a good start, but it is far from all that matters. And this sense of confusion which exists between us, I cannot help but think it comes from a place of uncertainty. The end of the Season…” He, too, trailed off, and she worried he would let it hang forever.

“I do not wish to put any pressure on you. Or to make any promises that neither of us are willing to keep.”

“You wish for me to stay?”

He took a moment with that. Looking away, biting into his lip with uncertainty. “Is there more here than mere desire? That is the question I cannot get past.”

“I…” She hesitated. “I am not sure.”

“I do not know if I wish for you to stay,” he said. “But perhaps I wish to see if there is a reason for you to. Which is why I propose that we stop pretending that we don’t know what this is and start acting as if we do. As if we want the same thing.”

“And what do ye want?”

“I want to see what this marriage might become,” he said. “There is still a way to go before the Season ends. And if that time comes and we decide that we cannot stand one another…” He laughed and then smiled at her. “I will not begrudge you if you want to leave.”

“And if I do nae?”

His smile grew. “Then you stay. But only if you wish it. Only if you decide that this is what you desire, I will not force it. And I hope you realize too that if I do not see a point in you staying…”

“I think we both ken that ye will have nae hesitation in voicing to me exactly how ye feel,” she grinned.

She did not know it until the words were spoken, but they were exactly what she needed to hear.

All this time, she had been in denial regarding how she felt about Lysander.

It was physical only. It was desire and arousal and fire and passion and all those things rolled into one.

But she did not like him. She did not want this marriage any more than he did. Only… that wasn’t true.

There was something there, simmering beneath the surface, the faintest flicker of what this marriage might be if they were brave enough to take it. Was it possible? She could not say yet. But did she want to find out?

“Is that a yes?” he asked.

“It is,” she said with a warm smile. “A yes, is my meaning.”

“Good.” The duke smiled and seemed to relax. “I am glad we had this conversation.”

“As am I.”

A tense silence followed this declaration.

Not awkward, but heavy because with their piece said and an agreement come to, it was clear now what was on both of their minds.

The fire crackled and popped. The storm still howled beyond the walls.

It was dark but not so much that they could not see each other clearly, the want and desire in both their eyes.

The duke’s fingers still brushed the back of Margaret’s neck.

Her hand still rested on his thigh. Memories of the previous evening raged inside of Margaret, and oh, how she wanted to feel his fingers inside her again.

Although I sense that this time, it will be more than just his fingers that I feel…

She sat forward. “I –”

“I think that is enough for one evening,” the duke spoke over her quickly, cutting her off, even if he surely sensed what was on her mind.

Then he stood, and she very nearly cried out.

“Do not mistake me,” he made sure to say when he noticed the disappointment on her face.

“I told you already how much I desire you.”

“I am wondering now if I believe it,” she said. “I may require proof.”

“Proof you will have…” He looked down at her, the fight behind his eyes so damn clear that she wondered why he was having it at all. “But it is as I said, we know that about each other. There is no denying that at the very least we are of the same mind.”

“Again…” She laughed awkwardly. “Some proof might be needed.”

“If this marriage is to succeed, we need more than attraction. Proof, as you say, that we can make this marriage work. That we can be in the same room without descending into argument and then…” He flashed his eyes. “That.”

She dropped her head. “I suppose so…”

“I wish I could say that I was sorry, but a part of me does so love disappointing you.”

“Hopefully it is nae something I will be getting used to.”

He laughed. “Just for tonight. I am glad we had this talk, and for the sake of this marriage, a talk is where it will end. For now.”

She frowned at him, pouting too, because she did not agree with him at all. She wondered if perhaps this was his way of taking back control, as if he needed to prove to himself that he could resist her. That she did not have such a hold over him. And why would it be a bad thing if I did?

But she did not argue. She did not rise to her feet, drop the blanket from her naked body, and then demand that he take her. Although she very much wished it, Margaret also agreed with his logic. If there was a chance of this marriage working, they needed more than lust to fill it with.

“Supper?” he asked her. “Will I be seeing you?”

“May I bring Spotty?”

He grimaced. “Ah, yes, the dog…”

“I am keeping it, by the way,” she said without question. “The girls will appreciate it, if naething else.”

“Using my own daughters against me. How evil of you.”

“I would also accept manipulative,” she laughed. “But if I am to be a true member of this house, I should be allowed to make my own decisions. And in this…” She indicated Spotty, now asleep on her lap. “I have decided.”

He sighed and shook his head. “I suppose I have no choice.”

“Oh, ye always have a choice,” she said. “But that does nae mean ye will like the outcome.”

“Supper,” he said with a smile. “And yes, you may bring Spotty.”

“Thank ye.”

He stepped into her then, reaching down and resting a hand under her chin.

He lifted her face so that he was looking into her eyes, holding them, that passion and desire they felt for each other burning in their reflection.

Margaret felt her pulse rise and her body grow warm… only for him to step back.

“Until then…” The duke turned and started across the room.

“Until then,” she agreed softly, so that he likely did not hear her.

There was no denying that the outcome of this moment was exactly what their marriage needed. Indeed, she was happy now for the clarity. This marriage, despite how it had started, looked as if it might grow into something real and true..

Even still… what is that feeling deep inside of me?

Is it fear? Worry? Anxiety? She was not certain.

A warning, it felt like, a reminder that despite how much had changed and the promises that were made, there were still infinite chances of it all blowing up in her face.

Happiness could be hers, but so could sadness and despair.

It's never easy, I suppose. But then again, what marriage is?