“I said we couldstartthere,” Phillip interjected. He stepped up to her and calmed her by stroking her shoulder with the back of his hand. “I will make every effort to be present so that we might get to know one another. You have made your point, my dear wife. Let us please retire. The hour is incredibly late.”
Marina’s eyes searched Phillip’s face for any sign that he was patronizing her, but she found none. Still, there was something that did not feel authentic to her. If, perhaps, she had looked closely enough, she might have seen the sweat beading at the nape of his neck or the unsteadiness in his hands, clasped demurely behind his back. In truth, Phillip couldn’t care less about Marina asking permission to enter any room in this home. Soon enough, he would be off, and it would be hers to do with what she pleased as had always been the plan. But there were papers in that desk she had gotten so dangerously close to which could have told her the truth about who he was.
The truth about her new title.
CHAPTER 9
“It is late,” Marina agreed softly. “Goodnight, Duke.”
He smiled gently at her use of his name, pleased that she was at least no longer using his formal title, but annoyed with the part of him which wanted to hear her call himPhillip. “Goodnight, Marina,” he answered in kind. She made to leave but brushed against the corner of a small table. The glass vase sitting atop the surface tumbled then fell to the ground with a shatter.
Phillip blinked. The sound of the shattering glass in that room took him back to another night, years ago, and for a moment he was not paying attention to his surroundings. Not until he noticed his new wife kneeling down on the floor trying to clean up the shards of glass on her own. He rushed forward.
“There is no need for you to do that. It is dangerous. You could be cut!” Almost like a curse as he finished his sentence, she sliced her hand upon a large shard she was reaching for and cried out in pain. “Marina!”
Phillip pulled her up off the floor and gently guided her to a shelf where there was an old sewing kit. From within, he pulled a scrap of fabric. She watched as he wrapped it around her cut and held it firmly in place.
“Does it hurt very much?” he asked. Marina looked up, and their eyes locked together. At last, she saw the man who had nearly beguiled her at the ball in Glastonbury. The one who had so chivalrously saved her from the grasshopper attack. His hand squeezed harder around hers, applying pressure to stop the bleeding.
“It is a shallow cut,” she assured him. “It is of little consequence.”
“Allow me to lead you back to your rooms anyway,” he said. “We sometimes do not realize how badly we have been hurt when it first happens, and I would be remiss if you were to faint.”
“If you insist,” she answered though she was smiling despite herself. Together, they walked back to her door. Before she could turn to open it, he pulled her injured hand to his lips and left a kiss there.
“Hurry and get in bed,” he muttered before tenderly placing her hand back at her side and turning to take his leave. Marina did as he asked though she found that her emotions were quite mixed.
Perhaps if he wereonlyan absent husband, she could become accustomed to his behavior. But he was not. When she did seehim, he was tender and kind and not at all the man he pretended to be. What was the purpose?
More importantly, why did his tenderness leave her feeling so aflutter?
In the morning, Marina was pleasantly surprised to find that her husband had kept his word and shown up for breakfast.
“How is your hand?” he asked her by way of greeting.
She held it up for him to see as she took her seat across the table. “Well. Mathilde dressed it for me this morning.”
“I’m glad to hear.” Marina smiled to hear genuine relief in his voice. “Did you sleep well?”
“I did. Did you?”
“I did.” A plate of food was placed before her and there was silence for a bit as they both ate.
“Thank you,” she said at long last.
“Whatever for?”
“Joining me for breakfast this morning.” Phillip smiled. A full smile, this time, not just the threat of one. “It is a pleasure to see you here.”
“I was told once that when one’s wife makes a demand of him in the middle of the night, one follows through lest bad luck befall him for the remainder of his marriage,” he teased her with a wink.
“It is fortunate that you are a smart enough man to heed that advice, then,” she giggled.
“What are your plans for the day?” he asked. “Surely you’re quite busy with the estate. I apologize that I will not be of much help for a while. I have many of my own affairs to tidy up over the next fortnight.”
And then I will take my leave, he thought, unwilling to voice his intention to leave Marina and his past safe and sound in London, so he could put some distance between himself and these horrible childhood memories.
“I will be looking to hire some lady’s maids and set the menu for the week. Luckily, it is just the two of us, and your cook is spritely and has many wonderful ideas. I was thinking of taking a look at the gardens as well and seeing what might be done about them. They were maintained quite well, but could use some updating.”
