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CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
Sitting in the garden gazebo with Edwina, Fergus could not remember when he had ever felt more relaxed. If he tried, he might imagine that he had felt this way with his mother and brother, playing out on the lawn with their governess when he was a boy. Before enlisting, before the war, before disease took his father and brother, and before his mother was murdered, perhaps he had been happy.
He never thought he would be this happy again. Watching Edwina, he studied her lips, how they had the slightest upturn. Desire to kiss her overwhelmed him. The feeling had persisted since she arrived, only to increase after their first time lying together. Then, when she let him take her on the couch in the library, he imagined that he would find resisting her difficult, no matter where he saw her.
“You look terribly pensive, Your Grace,” Edwina told him, looking over her teacup. “What is on your mind?”
Smiling at her, he said, “I was marveling how beautiful of a day this is and how happy I am.”
“My, that scowl did not convey happiness to me,” she laughed, her voice musical. Her eyes danced with delight, taking away his breath with her delightful beauty. He could not ruin their afternoon by telling her the thoughts that darkened the back of his mind.
“Shadows compliment the light, do they not?” he asked. He took Edwina’s hand and leaned forward to kiss it lightly.
“I suppose it does take the unhappy moments to make you appreciate the happy ones,” she mused, her eyes crinkling with his kiss.
“Are you happy?” Fergus asked, studying his wife.
“Oh, of course!” she cried, perhaps too quickly.
He tried not to squint with skepticism or press too quickly, so he asked, “Is there anything you wish was different?”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Is there anything you wish you could have or could be changed?”
“About you? Our marriage?”
“About life at Hillow House,” he said, shrugging. Her frown deepened as she considered his question. Then, for a moment, she looked out over the pond. The longer she continued the silence, the more apprehensive he became.
“I suppose I wish for more company here at the house,” she said at last with a sigh. “I have visited my father and called on other ladies. If I ever imagined myself being a great lady, which was not often or very serious, I suppose I thought I would be hosting balls and soirees that would make other ladies jealous of me.”
“You?” he asked, taken aback. “That does not seem like something you would enjoy.”
She shrugged. “No, perhaps not in the way you think. I have always felt like I was an outsider, or never good enough, in society. When I felt angry with the other ladies acting like they were better than me, I thought, someday, I might show them.”
“Hmm,” Fergus murmured.
“At least…” she started, trailing off again. “I had mentioned before, about you introducing me as your new duchess. I thought at least I would have that.”
“In what way?” he asked hesitantly.
“Like a ball in my honor,” she suggested, her expression growing more earnest. “Do you think… is there any chance… perhaps…”
“You want me to host a ball in your honor to introduce you to society as the new Duchess of Hillow?” Fergus asked again, feeling dumbfounded. He stared at Edwina blankly.
The feeling of happiness washed away, replaced with a feeling of dread. Fergus could tell from the look on Edwina’s face that she was serious, and this was something that meant a lot to her.
“The ladies I visit with have been asking when they can call on me and asking why we have not hosted anything public to celebrate our marriage,” she explained.
“They ask that because they want to see the spectacle that is the reclusive Duke of Hillow,” he countered. The familiar rush of his pulse quickening and his breath evading him coursed through him. He tried to take slow breaths to calm himself down before he found himself too overwhelmed.
“No, it is normal for a duchess to do,” Edwina protested. “Every married, titled lady hosts events. A marriage is supposed to be celebrated.”
He shook his head adamantly. “I think you are being a little naïve. Do you want to be mocked for having married me?”
“I am not embarrassed by you,” Edwina told him sternly. “Fergus, you are wonderful and handsome. I would be proud to have you by my side, to be introduced as your wife.”
“Can you not consider how I might be treated?” Fergus asked her, his voice tightening. “You might be good and kind, but imagine what they would say about me. Anyone who would accept an invite would only come to laugh at me.”
