Page 52 of The Wedding-Crashing Duchess

Augusta remained still, stunned by the openness of the admission and by the severity with which he judged himself.

“You could tell Sarah what you have told me,” she said after a moment. His eyes widened at the prospect alone.

“Not all of it, although one day you could tell her that you regret not knowing her mother better. That would still be the truth.”

Ronan looked away. “That remains a question for another time. She is far too young at the moment to understand any of this,” he sighed.

Their little game of questions had gotten too deep now, and there seemed to be no getting out of it either.

“Is it my turn to ask you a question now?” he looked at her intently, as though he was trying to piece together some important bit of information about her. “Have you ever been in love?”

Augusta blinked. The question seemed to surprise Ronan as much as it surprised her, although he concealed it quickly and reached for his wineglass again, as though the movement could make the question appear casual.

He told himself that he had only changed the subject, and that after exposing so much of his own past, it was reasonable to ask something equally personal of her. He could even claim that the rules of their game demanded it, although none of those explanations accounted for the sudden attention with which he waited for her answer.

I don’t care if she has been in love before. That was an obvious thing that he told herself, and it was only curiosity that had compelled him to ask the question.

But a part of him wanted to know, and an even bigger part of him wanted the answer to be a no. She was his wife, and therefore the prospect of her having found love before was something that appeared unsuitable to him.

It also wasn’t lost on him that she was taking more time than usual to answer.

“Well?” he pressed, looking at her again. A small smile formed on his face, perhaps motivated by his impatience alone.

“If you really must know,” she drew a sigh, “I have never been in love.”

Relief moved through him so quickly that he almost resented it. Ronan lowered his gaze to the wine in his glass, unable to explain why the answer pleased him, while Augusta continued watching him from across the table.

“Do you wish to ask anything else?” she said.

“It’s not yet my turn.”

He wondered if the same question was going to be directed towards him now, and panicked internally when he realized that he wouldn’t know what answer to give her. Thankfully, though, she seemed to be satisfied for the moment.

Neither of them asked another question.

CHAPTER 11

“Before you tell me that Ravenhill is comfortable, the servants are attentive, and your husband has behaved with perfect civility, I should warn you that none of those answers will satisfy me,” Charity said as Augusta entered the morning room. “You have been gone long enough for me to wonder whether you are happy, whether you feel at ease with Ronan when no one else is present, and whether the marriage still feels like something you accepted only to repair the damage caused by the wedding. I have tried not to interfere, although restraint has never removed worry, so I would rather you sit beside me and tell me the truth than spend another week imagining that you are concealing some misery out of pride.”

Augusta stopped with one glove half removed, while Matilda looked up from the window seat and immediately closed the book in her lap.

“I have scarcely crossed the threshold, and already you have asked enough questions to occupy the entire visit,” Augusta said as she pulled off the glove and crossed towards the settee. “I had imagined that I might be welcomed, offered tea, and permitted to inquire after my nephew before you demanded a complete account of my marriage, although I see that becoming a duchess has not earned me even five minutes of peace in my own family’s house.”

“You are welcome, the baby is sleeping, and the tea has already been poured, so you have no reason to delay,” Charity replied as she took Augusta’s hand and drew her down beside her. “I know you chose this marriage, and I have not forgotten that you insisted no one had forced you, yet the circumstances were unusual enough that concern is hardly an insult. Ronan began as a stranger you believed capable of murder, then he became the man whose wedding you destroyed, and shortly afterward he arrived here asking for your hand. I trusted your judgement when you agreed, although trusting you did not make the arrangement less alarming.”

Matilda abandoned the window seat and moved into the chair opposite them, while the eager expression on her face made it clear that she had been waiting for Augusta’s visit with even less patience than Charity.

“I would also like to know whether he still carries the cane everywhere, whether he speaks to you in that voice that makes ordinary words sound like a command, and whether the servants scatter when he enters a room,” Matilda said, folding her hands in an exaggerated imitation of a proper lady. “I have not included any questions Charity would consider unsuitable, although I think it is unfair that everyone expects me to understand marriage one day while refusing to explain any part of it now.”

“Nothing about that speech encourages me to answer you,” Augusta replied as Charity placed a teacup in her hands. “Ronan uses the cane when he requires it, his voice sounds commanding even when he is asking whether I would prefer tea or coffee, and the servants do not scatter, although they do become very efficient whenever he looks displeased. None of that is nearly as dramatic as you hoped, so I fear you will have to abandon whatever gothic tale you have invented about my life.”

Matilda studied her closely.

“You defended him before you had even taken a sip of tea,” she said. “You did not say that he frightened the servants, and you corrected me when I described his manner, which means you have already begun protecting him from criticism.”

“I am not protecting him,” Augusta replied, although the speed of the answer made both sisters look at her more carefully. “I am only correcting an unfair description, since Ronan may appear severe and he certainly has very little talent for sounding gentle, although that does not mean everyone in his household spends the day trembling whenever he enters a room.”

Charity lifted her cup, yet she continued watching Augusta over the rim.