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“Perhaps I am glad you did not marry one of the squire’s daughters,” she admitted and he grinned.
“So am I.” Harry could not imagine any woman who was not Bridget in his life. He noticed he was becoming distracted and cleared his throat, then continued iterating the events. “I paid him what was owed but my rejection angered him. He agitated my tenants, turned them against me, even challenged me to a duel.”
“Did you duel him?” she asked in a whisper.
“Yes.” He chuckled darkly. “I was fortunate that my good eye did not fail me. He still was not satisfied after the duel and set one of the breweries on fire. There were two, you see.” Harry recalled the irrefutable rage he had felt. Two years had passed but he still thought of it with anger. “I did not trust myself to leave him alive if I saw him, thus, I sent Drew after him. He was forced into exile.”
“You think he has returned,” she observed quietly.
“Yes, but Drew does not believe so. I called him to help me investigate.” As he spoke, a tincture of realization and regret of his words crossed his body, but quickly dissolved as he realized that he trusted her.
“Is he a private eye?”
“An Agent of the Crown.”
She smiled. “He is better qualified than I thought.”
“Indeed,” he agreed. “Do you have another question for me?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Will you make me a promise?”
“That is a request, not a question,” he remarked with a chuckle.
“We have not established any rules, thus, I am trading my question for it.”
“Should we establish rules, then?”
“No,” she laughed.
“Very well. What promise do you want?”
“That you will talk to me henceforth. I am your wife. Your equal,” she said the last words with a challenge in her eyes, which he was pleased to see.
“My equal?” he echoed. “Are you certain? Because I recall winning our race up the tower.”
“Not that sort of equality, Harry,” she argued with a petulant jut of her chin.
“Enlighten me,” he dared, leaning back against the cushions of her sofa and watching her with a raised brow.
Bridget thought for a moment before saying, “Your pain is my pain now, and your happiness, as well.”
Harry felt some of his shackles loosen, and he almost drew her into his arms to kiss her. The only thing that prevented him was the knowledge that he would not be able to stop himself once she was in his arms.
And so long as she was close to him, she would attempt to remove his patch, and he could not allow her image of him to be corrupted. It was a fear he now lived with every day.
Taking her hand in his, he tenderly kissed her fingers. “I promise.”
“I have never seen a duchess gather mint by herself,” Gerard said with a broad smile, his brows raised to show his surprise.
Bridget was in the greenhouse with Sarah gathering some spearmint for tea when he appeared.
“I am very fond of tea, and I always gather the herbs myself,” she explained, cutting a spearmint stalk and adding it to the basket in Sarah’s hand that contained sprigs of lavender.
“I must say that you are quite intriguing. I learn something new about you every day.”
“So does Harry.” She straightened, her eyes wandering toward the greenhouse door. Her heart leaped and she smiled when she saw him approaching, his long hair drifting in the soft breeze.
She had been angry the night before but he had disarmed her the moment he had asked if something had happened at the ball. Magnus had disconcerted her, and Harry had been able to see it even though he was not present. He was not as neglectful as she thought, and that had given her more hope.
