Page 42 of The Duke's Only Desire

“Uncle.” Sophie’s soft voice jerked Shay’s attention to the doorway, her eyes blazing at what she must have overheard. “I came to inquire if you had planned to stay for dinner and spendthe night.” Her gaze flicked between the two men, then landed on Malcolm with a carefully guarded expression. “But I believe you must be taking your leave soon. I wish you well on your return home.”

“Sophie, dear.” Malcolm rose to his feet with a patronizing smile. “Surely, you’ve misunderstood—”

“Did I, my husband?” She calmly arched a brow at Shay. “I was certain you were just about to say your goodbyes.”

In other words…Get this man out of my home. Now. She couldn’t have been clearer if she’d screamed it. Shay knew Malcolm understood that, too, but his uncle didn’t possess enough shame to look at all embarrassed.

Shay rose to his feet and gave a polite nod to Malcolm. “Goodbye, Uncle. I’m certain you don’t mind showing yourself out.”

“Of course. I offer my goodbyes, then.” His eyes gleamed with a mix of fury and laughter, a look that sent a cold warning pricking at the backs of Shay’s knees. “Again, my sincerest congratulations on your marriage. And don’t let that old wives’ tale about winter weddings leadings to wintry marriages bother you. I’m certain marrying at the coldest time of the year will have no effect whatsoever on your affections.”

Sophie’s spine straightened at the sting of that backhanded pleasantry, yet she forced a bright smile. “Thank you, Uncle. It’s good to know I’ve been welcomed into the warm embrace of the Douglass family.”

Shay bit his cheek to keep from chuckling. He’d never been prouder of her than at that moment.

As Malcolm left the room, he paused in front of Sophie in the doorway and cast a lingering look over her, one that reassessed his previous opinions of her. If Malcolm knew what was good for him, he would come to the same conclusion Shay had—she was far more capable and resilient than she first appeared.

“Tell me, my dear,” Malcolm murmured as he narrowed his gaze on her face. “I heard your mother left your father shortly after they were married to run off with an American lover. Is it true?”

She lifted her chin. “Yes.”

“Well then.” He glanced back at Shay with a laugh as he slipped out into the hall. “At least you two have that much in common!”

Sophie closed the door after him and collapsed back against it, deflating like a balloon. When she finally took a deep breath and raised her eyes to meet Shay’s across the room, he saw stunned disbelief in their stormy blue depths.

He held his glass of cognac out to her. “Welcome to the family.”

A shocked laugh of absolute astonishment bubbled from her, although Shay knew she most likely laughed only to keep from screaming. She crossed the room to him, accepted the glass, and took a gasping swallow. She stared up at him with wide eyes, her fingers pressing to her lips to keep a cough at bay as the cognac surely burned its way down her throat.

He took the glass from her and tossed back the last of the brandy. “I am very sorry you had to experience that.”

“It isn’t your fault. You had no idea he’d visit us.”

Us.He should have been happy she used the word so freely, as if they truly were a couple in lock-step in their married lives. Instead, he kept hearing Malcolm’s insinuations, although none of them were surprising, knowing Malcolm as he did. He’d hoped that news of his marriage would keep his uncle away from Ravenscroft and Sophie. He’d been wrong.

He blew out a hard breath and raked his fingers through his hair. “I should have anticipated it.”

“You couldn’t have known how he’d react to the news of our marriage. He must have been shocked to hear you’d married without telling him, especially to me.”

“Not shocked,” he corrected, circling the desk to her side and leaning back against it, bringing his eyes level with hers. “Infuriated.”

She threw him a quizzical frown.

“He’s a second son who had no choice but to make his way in the world on the kindnesses of my grandfather’s allowance, my father’s name, and an army commission without ever once leaving English soil. He thought he had an ally in me because our lives were so similar. He was wrong.” He crossed his arms. “We’re nothing alike.”

“Thank goodness.”

His lips twisted in an ironic grimace. There was little about him that was good.

“But there’s more to it than that,” she pressed gently. “There has to be, for him to come here like this, openly hostile to both of us.”

“There is.” He looked down at the empty glass, wondering if he should refill it. Cognac would certainly help to get through this conversation. “When my father died,” he explained, carefully choosing his words, “Malcolm thought he and his sons should have been the rightful heirs to Malvern, not me. So he filed an inquiry with the Committee on Privileges in Parliament.”

“Why would he think that? The title passes through male heirs of the body, and you were next in line.”

“He didn’t think someone with my past should be allowed to become a duke.” Not technically a lie. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to look at her as he said it. “My past was too…”

“Mercenary?”