Page 43 of The Duchess He Couldn’t Resist

“If I may say so, it’s getting a little bit tiring with all of these ‘Your Graces.’ It would be much easier if you simply addressed me as Owen, and I took the liberty of calling you Marigold.”

“Absolutely not!” Brandon snarled at his friend.

“Your Grace,” Marigold turned to him, still smiling, “I believe you are getting quite ridiculous.”

“I am what?” Brandon inquired so as to make sure that he was addressed this way by his own wife in his own house.

“Owen is your friend—from what I can tell, your only one. He came to visit. He was keeping me company. It’s not entirely his fault that he is, in fact, charming.”

“I believe I heard enough. Owen. Study. Now.”

Owen got up with a little suppressed laughter as Brandon glared at him. He bowed to Marigold and was ready to take her hand to kiss, a signature move that Brandon had seen him deploy on almost all women he met.

“Do not even dare!” Brandon openly threatened.

Both he and Marigold seemed unbothered by the murderous tone in his voice. Owen took his bow and smiled a dazzling smile at Marigold that she returned tenfold.

“I see that His Grace insists on you retiring from this room and joining him,” Marigold said. “But you will stay for dinner. It would simply be a shame for you to come all this way and not share a meal with us.”

“I assure you, Your Grace,” Brandon hissed at her through tight teeth, “it would not be a great loss.”

Owen completely ignored him, bowed again extravagantly, and grinned.

“I would be delighted, Your Grace. Thank you.”

Brandon turned his back and made his way to his study without waiting to see if Owen was following him. In fact, he hoped that Owen didn’t follow him since that would give him a good excuse to pulp his stupid face.

“So…” Owen said as soon as he entered the study.

“So what?”

“That was quite interesting and educational.”

Brandon poured himself some whiskey and drank to calm his nerves. He was surprised to see that he had trouble controlling the tempest in his chest.

“I am glad I can still amuse you.”

“It was, in fact, very entertaining. It was the most fascinating thing I have seen in months.”

“Your attention span is not one for the books.”

Owen sat down on the armchair that was his usual refuge, placed his elbows on his knees, and leaned forward.

“I like her.”

Brandon’s fingers tightened around the glass. One more word and the crystal would crack. On Owen’s head, preferably.

“Don’t,” he warned.

“And why wouldn’t I?” Owen seemed to have woken up with some kind of death wish. “She’s as clever as she is warm. She is fearless without losing her feminine charm.”

“She is also my wife.”

“I am aware. I was at the wedding, remember? The one with no champagne and no music?”

“Since you are aware, you will know to keep your distance from her.”

Owen studied him for one long moment, and his face faded into something more perceptive. His mischievous grin was still there, but he was regarding Brandon as if he had just figured something out. Many thought of Owen as a rake and nothing more, but Owen hid much more under his dashing, endearing persona.