Page 37 of His Duchess to Remember

She flinched at the sound of Malcolm’s voice and turned slowly.

He walked toward her and sat down on the bench. “Is everything all right? Was I taking so long with yer drink that ye decided to storm off?”

Soft laughter rumbled from his throat. A sweet sound that, right now, she was in no fit state to hear.

“I would like to go home,” she said with a sigh. “There are too many obstacles to navigate tonight.”

Malcolm searched her face. “Ye can tell them, if ye want? I don’t mind.”

“Not here,” she insisted. “Please, can we just leave?”

“Ye don’t want to say farewell to yer friends?”

She shook her head. “They will forgive me.”

“Very well.” He got to his feet and offered his hand.

She was tempted to refuse, to prove that she did not need his help in any capacity and did not want his closeness, but, in the end, she put her hand in his and allowed him to help her up.

They walked in silence to the waiting carriage, a silence that continued as they began the journey homeward. But it was not the awkward quiet of earlier; it was a more comfortable quiet, which she felt no need to break with idle conversation.

Instead, under his watchful guard, she rested her head against the interior wall and closed her eyes.

As it turned out, trying to live a fantasy was rather exhausting.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Malcolm knew, without doubt, that he had never had something so precious in his arms in his entire life. He did not need his memories to know it, as he carried Octavia into the manor.

She had fallen asleep on the journey back from Joan and Laurence’s, and he had not had the heart to wake her. Not when she had looked so peaceful, so at ease, in a way she had not since his arrival.

I’m not going to disappoint ye, lass.

He wished she could believe him, but he understood that he still had a long way to go to prove himself to her.

“Your Grace?” The butler appeared, and immediately slapped a hand over his mouth. Lowering his voice, he whispered, somewhat muffled, “Did you have a pleasant evening? Did you remember all of your steps?”

Malcolm nodded. “I did, and I did.”

“Well then, I’ll leave you be.” The butler withdrew his hand and smiled fondly at the duchess. “Goodnight, Your Grace.”

“Goodnight,” Malcolm whispered back.

He carried his wife up the stairs and found his way to her bedchamber, or what he hoped was her bedchamber. There, he carefully lay her down on the bed and picked up a blanket to cover her with.

She barely stirred, though a small smile crept onto her face as she lay there, fast asleep.

“Goodnight, lass,” Malcolm said quietly, as he leaned down and pressed a light kiss to her forehead.

Taking one more moment to look at her, once again bewildered as to how he could have ever stayed away from her, he left her to her peaceful slumber.

Octavia blinked awake to sunlight filtering in through the drapes, her mind foggy with sleep. Rubbing her eyes, she frowned at the pattern of the curtains.

Where am I?

She sat bolt upright and looked around, panic making her heart thud violently against her ribcage. It was not her bedchamber but as she continued to absorb her surroundings, she realized that she was at least in her own manor. A guest room that she vaguely remembered decorating.

“What am I doing in here?” she mumbled, racking her brain for memories of the night before.