Page 8 of My Disastrous Duchess (The Untamed Ladies #2)

He laughed under his breath, hoping she didn’t take that as encouragement. “Engaged in a shouting match with a young woman,” he corrected. “Dudley and her gang were tiring me besides. You are no great admirer of hers?”

“Once, I was.” Margaret’s neck bobbed, her expression faraway.

She sucked in a breath and reached for her pelisse, using the cleanest sleeve to wipe her face.

“Mrs. Dudley and my mother were exceptionally close... but things changed when, well... Suffice to say that now I cannot stand the sight of her.”

A mutual feeling, Alexander suspected. Margaret and her family represented everything a woman like Dudley was supposed to abhor.

“What was your plan?” Alexander asked, ashamed of his curiosity.

This was Simon’s bad influence. “I mean to say, you attended the gathering tonight expecting... what? Don’t look at me like that.

You must have known what Salisbury society thought of your family.

Your father’s oldest friends, and therefore his most scorned friends, all reside nearby. ”

Margaret looked down at the fabric in her hands. Her face was still dirty, but she had managed to clean away some of the mud.

“I honestly don’t know what I expected. I only wanted.

..” She gulped, then abandoned her pelisse and pulled his coat more tightly around her.

It had a warming effect on him, and he couldn’t fathom why.

“I had hoped that tonight would feel close to normal. My friend invited me to stay with her as a way to escape London. My mother has not returned to Salisbury since my father left, so I had no idea how we would be treated here.”

He found that hard to believe. “The scathing things they wrote in the rags didn’t give you even the vaguest of ideas?”

“Well, you can’t believe everything you read, can you?” Her voice rose, and it seemed to shock her. “I’m sorry. I suppose I should have known better. What happened tonight... I have not felt so ashamed to be a Pembroke in all my life.”

That was partly my doing , Alexander thought.

But Dudley had been right about one thing: Margaret had done herself no favors.

Who knew what would become of her after that night?

Aside from the mine Pembroke had shared with him, all their other properties had been sold, and their businesses had been liquidated.

The estimated sum of Pembroke’s debts had been published months ago, and it was an astounding number.

Evidently, he had abused his title and friendships to borrow more money than any sane man ever should have, meanwhile concealing his avarice, until it was too late.

“Why do you ask, Your Grace? Are you concerned about what they will say once word spreads of this most surprising reunion between us?” she continued.

“Our meeting on the road, this rescue... To be seen with me is obviously a crime in and of itself. You have put yourself at great risk by saving me; you must know that.”

“Do not forget that I had little choice. Saving your life was the lesser of two evils. And you already implied that I was in cahoots with your father at the Assembly Rooms, so...” A pragmatic reply.

“But if I were you, I would be more concerned with my own reputation. You are a single woman sharing a carriage with an unmarried man.”

“I do not fear you, for you will not touch me.” She laughed. “You despise me.”

He didn’t know Margaret well enough to despise her, but kept that to himself. And as for the touching... He shivered, looking around uncomfortably.

“You are gravely mistaken if you believe a man’s estimation of a woman has any bearing on his desire to touch her.

” He had meant to sound flippant, neutral, but from the surprised look on Margaret’s face, he feared he had revealed too much.

She was, after all, a beautiful woman. Disturbed, of course.

But beautiful. “But no. I will not lay a finger on you.”

Margaret nodded her thanks. “Not that it would make a difference. I could strip naked and prance around the streets of Salisbury, and they would all think that I was as mad and debased as they did before.”

Alexander tried not to picture that scenario, turning from her again. “Then we shall keep the later events of this evening a secret.”

“I take it your staff can be trusted?”

“That is my most earnest hope,” he murmured. She didn’t seem to understand, and she wasn’t supposed to. “This does not mean you are forgiven, Miss Pembroke. I stand by what I said earlier. Your comportment was abysmal.”

“As was yours, but I do not expect you to change your mind on my account. You seem, of all things, to be a rigid fellow.”

She settled into her seat at last, satisfied by her latest barb, blinking slowly like she was about to fall asleep. A moment later, just when Alexander thought she had dozed off, she parted her lips to speak again.

“For the record, you are not forgiven either, Your Grace. I am grateful for your help, but I will never forget the things you said about my father.”

“Then it seems we are at an impasse,” he said.

She yawned. "Thankfully for us, there are much worse places to be.”

Alexander found Margaret again once they arrived at Somerstead Hall, standing outside the secondary drawing room where they had left her driver to convalesce.

Alexander had washed himself and changed into a new set of clothes, but Margaret still sported her tattered outfit, including his coat.

One of the maids had found some house shoes for her, meaning she had trailed only a minimal amount of mud throughout the manor instead of a lot.

He rolled up his sleeves and approached. “You are still here.”

Margaret gasped softly and turned around.

“You should retire. The housekeeper has been told to attend you.” He looked past her through the crack in the door.

“Your driver will be safe in the care of the butler until we can call a doctor. He had recuperated somewhat already. He is at no risk of dying tonight, and he is not your charge regardless but mine. As are you.”

“And since you have commanded me to bed, I suppose that is where I must go.” Margaret nodded and stepped past him before remembering something.

She slipped out of his coat. “Under normal circumstances, I would launder it first, but this will have to do. It was a good thing you did... helping Mr. Plim.”

Her footsteps echoed down the corridor as she slipped into the entrance hall, a little uneven because of her limp. Alexander inspected his coat, holding it at a distance.

Nothing about that night had gone according to plan.

A recurring theme, it seemed, when Miss Pembroke was around.