The Inconvenient Duchess

the most satisfying. She was a proud woman, the proudest he had ever met, despite the fact that she had nothing but a shred of honour. She would not be grateful that she no longer kept a secret; she would be shamed. And when she found out that he had helped her, she would go to his bed quietly as a hostage to her father’s continued safety.
    And why must it be that way? Had he grown so repellent in his years away that no one could want him? Did debauchery show in his face? Were sins of pride and weakness so obvious in his character that no honest woman, no matter how desperate, could stand to be bedded by him?
    And he had found an honest woman, hadn’t he? Willing to sacrifice blindly to fulfil her father’s dream. How well he could appreciate the burden of family obligation. They were not unalike and, once she realised it, they would do well together.
    But, as usual, he’d been a ham-handed husband, thinking that with a show of wealth, things could be done quickly. She was accustomed to simplicity and hard work, and he had offered her splendour. Of course she was uncomfortable. She seemed at her best when she was active. No china-doll duchess for him. Not this time. He must find work suited to her station and ability.
    He smiled. And, once she was happy, certain other, more pleasurable tasks could be slipped into her schedule at the end of the day and accomplished with a minimum of fuss. If he could get her to come to his bed with a light heart, then he could share the information about her father, and cement the relationship without making her an obliged slave to his desires.

Chapter Sixteen
    S he sat alone at the luncheon table with cold salmon and trepidation. She was being punished, she suspected, for the outburst in the bedroom.
    And then she heard the distant sound of doors opening, and commotion in the hall. She was beginning to suspect that, wherever he went, a cloud of noise and action swirled around the duke.
    He strode into the dining room and took his place at the head of the table, barely noticing her, as footmen rushed forward to fill his plate and glasses. He fell to eating, without saying a word, but stopped after a few bites, to look up at her. His expression held no cloud of memory of his earlier outburst.
    ‘This salmon is uncommonly good. Did you sack the cook as well?’
    ‘No. I merely oversaw the purchasing of the foodstuffs. You’ll find, now that the food that is ordered actually makes it to the table, the quality of the meals has improved.’
    ‘And will continue to improve, after the cook hears of the increase in pay?’
    ‘I believe she has already heard, your Grace. Marcus,’ she corrected. ‘Today’s luncheon is noticeably better than yesterday’s supper.’
    He shrugged and took another bite. ‘If the trend continues, I’ll have to consider eating supper at home.’
    ‘If there are dishes that might tempt you to dine here, please inform me, so that I can provide them.’
    The fork stopped, midway to his mouth, and he examined her before answering. Then he took a slow sip of wine. ‘Of course. If there is anything that might tempt me to remain home, you’ll be the first to know.’
    He continued to stare over his fork at her until she blushed from the attention.
    Then he went on. ‘That dress is most becoming on you. It brings out the colour in your cheeks.’
    ‘Thank you. Marcus,’ she added with difficulty.
    The conversation died.
    She chewed in silence. It was going to get awfully monotonous if the course of every meal involved a remark on the food, a remark on her dress, and silence. What did she talk about, when in the bosom of the family? What they’d done. What they were planning to d
    And if she asked Marcus where he’d been for two weeks? He could tell her, and she might not like the answer, or the silence could grow even deeper.
    ‘Do you have plans this afternoon, Marcus?’
    He looked over the fork again. ‘Why? Do you have a suggestion?’
    It was an innuendo, she suspected. She chose to ignore it. ‘No, Marcus. Only table talk. You needn’t answer, if you don’t wish to.’
    They ate in silence for another bite.
    ‘I was thinking,’ he said at last, ‘of visiting some of the outlying farms.’
    She nodded and took another bite.
    ‘You may accompany me. If you wish, that is. I mean, the tenants might think it quite an honour to receive a visit from the duchess. It’s something they’ve come not to expect, in the years my mother held the