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Fergus rolled his eyes. “I am sorry, Your Grace. But sadly, the older I get, the more her eyes begin to stray. Don't be surprised if, when we leave, she hides in a cupboard somewhere and tries to stay behind.”

“Ridiculous,” her mother said with a shake of the head.

The conversation was typical of her family, and not anything that Margaret wasn’t used to.

They were loud. They were jovial. They enjoyed making jokes at one another’s expense.

What was more, having not lived in the ton and thus become accustomed to society’s expectations of what their class demanded of them, they gave little care to decorum or propriety.

Whether they were in front of the king or the help, Margaret knew they would act the same way.

She found Lysander across the table and mouthed the word Sorry , to him. He beamed at her, laughing still at the banter that had been between her parents. At least he is enjoying himself. Or at least he is doing a good job of pretending that he is.

They had adjourned to the back garden, seated now around a table which was set underneath a large oak tree for reasons of shade and comfort.

Tea had been served. There were snacks to nibble on.

Catherine and Sampson were yet to arrive, which had kept the conversation light and removed from taking a more serious air. For which Margaret was grateful.

But it could not last, and as her father had now breeched the topic which she most feared, it was time to get it over and done with. Margaret braced herself.

“So, come then,” her father directed. “Tell us, how did this happen?”

“I am betting that she tricked ye somehow,” Graham teased.

“Graham!” her mother cried.

“Joking, mother.” He was seated beside the duke, and he slapped him on the shoulder. This had Lysander sitting up straight in surprise, and Margaret braced herself for his reprimand. But he saw the smile on Graham’s lips, which had him smiling also.

“I assure you it was nothing as scandalous as that.” Lysander found Margaret watching him and winked.

She glared at him. “The truth is, the story is a rather tame one. Your lovely daughter and I met at a party, to which your other daughter had invited her, we hit it off immediately and…” He shrugged. “It was that simple.”

“Oh…” Her mother almost looked disappointed. “Is that all?”

“But why the rush?” her father pushed on him. “Why nae give it a month? Two! I tell ye, when Mary learned she could nae attend her own daughter’s wedding…” He shuddered. “I spent two nights sleeping in the stables ta avoid her wrath.”

“Oh, you did nae.”

“That is my fault,” Lysander grimaced. “I have two daughters, you see. Aurelia and Lenora. When I realized how much Margaret and I adored one another, I knew right away that marriage was the end game – it could be nothing else.” He looked across the table, and the smile in his eyes was so convincing that Margaret almost believed his story.

At the very least, she believed the truth behind it.

“But I did not wish to drag it out and create confusion. My daughters need stability. They need a mother…” His smile grew, and Margaret’s heart fluttered.

“To stretch it across the Season would have confused them and created disorder. I wanted her to live with me as soon as possible.”

“And where are these daughters?” her mother asked.

“Oh!” Isobel perked up excitedly. She had been sitting in silence, overwhelmed by the noise and new environment.

“I am afraid they are not here,” Lysander said. “I sent them to a friend’s for the day, so we would have time together. But fear not, I expect you to meet them before you leave.”

“Two girls,” Margaret’s mother mused. “That is good. Margaret loves children.”

“And don’t I know it.”

“She always wanted a family,” she continued. “Which I am sure you ken.”

Margaret felt herself blushing, and she could not bring herself to meet the duke’s eyes.

They had not discussed such things yet, as she did not want to pressure him.

Yes, she wished for a family of her own, and if she were to stay here with the duke, she would like to one day bear her own child.

But that was so far away, a problem for another time.

As things stood, simply admitting what they wished for right now was enough.

She could have cursed at her mother for bringing this to light. And she flashed her a quick glare, to which her mother shrugged as if to say. ‘Well, you do.’

“I had my suspicions,” the duke chuckled. “And she is very good with Aurelia and Lenora. A real natural.”

Margaret forced herself to look up, finding Lysander’s eyes.

He was smiling warmly at her, no sense at all that this conversation had upset him or caused him panic.

He really is wonderful. Today. Yesterday.

This whole week! We are so close now, I can feel it.

All that is left is to confirm what I am sure we both know…

“A game!” Graham announced suddenly. “Let us play a game.”

“Graham,” their mother chastised. “Adults are speaking. Which, apparently, ye are nae.”

“Oh, a game!” Isobel agreed excitedly. “A game! A game!”

“See”! Graham said. “Isobel wants to play.”

“Very well,” Margaret’s father grumbled. “What shall we play, Your Grace! Seeing as it is yer home…”

Lysander looked between them, a sense of panic in his eyes. Margaret knew that he wasn’t one to play games, and that he certainly didn’t know of any.

“I da nae care what we play,” Graham said and again he slapped Lysander on the shoulder. “But if it is pairs, I am with His Grace. I sense he’s a man who likes ta win!”

“Who says I wish to be with you?” Lysander teased him, which made Margaret laugh loudly as she did not expect it. He is getting more comfortable with them. I can see it.

“I am hurt, Your Grace.” Graham touched his chest as if in pain. “Truly, I am.”

“Not nearly as hurt as I am, being called Your Grace as if I am some stranger. Call me Lysander, please. For we are family.”

Graham beamed. “Ha! This is true, this is true. Margaret…” He looked across the table and winked. “Do me a favor and don’t scare this one off. I like him.”

“The only one scaring anybody off right now is ye, Graham,” she said rightly.

“True!” he laughed.

“Enough, enough,” their father spoke over them. “Let us choose a game and be done with it. And as Graham wished to be with His Gr – Lysander,” he corrected. “I wish to nae be paired with yer mother.”

“Fergus!”

“Jokes, my dear, jokes.”

“Jokes are meant to be funny.”

“Which is why we are all laughing,” he boomed and laughed loudly, to which Margaret and Lysander both joined in. “See, I told ye.”

Margaret rolled her eyes but then smiled when she saw how much Lysander was enjoying herself.

And that smile grew when Lysander threw an arm around her brother as if they were the best of friends.

The feeling that was growing inside of her was unmistakable…

we are a family. All of us, Lysander included.

She knew it, and she could see that he was of the same mind.

Relief was what she felt most of all, as this to her was the final test. A test that they had passed, leaving but one thing left to do. She was falling in love with her husband, of that there was no doubt. All that was required now was to see if that love was returned.