“I’m curious, what does Lord Jonathan have to say about this plan of yours? What has he done to warrant the same punishment as me?”
“It’s past time he marries,” Ambrose murmured. That wasn’t untrue, he supposed.
“So you will happily doom us both to a life of unhappiness?”
He’d been willing to, hadn’t he? And then his wife had changed everything with her smart mouth, lingering touches, and bright smile. She had cast her own light on him.
In that moment, staring down into his sister-in-law’s face, Ambrose felt truly grateful for the upheaval of his life. He’d been such a bloody ass before.
“You betrayed me,” he said simply.
“Your brother did not.”
Ambrose stopped his lips from curving into a sly smile. For the first time since they met, he admired Holly Middleton’s spunk. She didn’t have as much as her sister, in his opinion, and she also didn’t look as beautiful as his wife did in her ire, but he admired it nonetheless.
“How can you believe what you did was right?” Miss Middleton continued to demand. “That it was acceptable to deceive me and fool me into believing you were something you were clearly not?”
Because I was different then. And desperate.
“We all put our best self forward when making new acquaintances, Miss Middleton,” Ambrose drawled instead.
“Thatwas your best self?”
“I was being charming.”
“Up till the moment you handed me a set of rules to live by. You really ought to have waited until after the wedding.”
“Agreed.”
Though he was glad he hadn’t. He’d never thought he’d be glad that Holly Middleton had abandoned him at the altar, but he was in bloody raptures.
“I am a person, you know,” she snapped. “Not a slave. I do not need my meals assigned to me. Your deception went too far. Your rules go too far.”
Ambrose was tempted to throw his hands up in a rant. His rules were ridiculous, he got the bloody message. Exasperated at everyone’s opinion, he ground out, “The rules are there for a reason.”
“Reasons that apparently do not require any explanation. How is my dear sister faring with those rules?”
“Your sister is . . .” Wonderful. Beautiful. Infuriating. “A challenge,” he muttered.
“Have you ever considered that your rules suppress the very essence of our nature?”
Of course he had. It was one of the reasons he had never pressed Willow to follow them—not truly.
“Because it is not in your nature to follow rules?” he asked.
“It’s not our way to blindly follow,” she corrected. “If I were you, Your Grace, I’d focus on what does lie in our nature rather than on what doesn’t. Your life would be easier.”
Now his sister-in-law was dispensing marital advice? They’d veered too far off topic. Refocus and wrap things up. He had things to plan. That and this berating was beginning to get deuced uncomfortable.
“Wise advice, but it changes nothing. You will marry Jonathan.”
“Are you in possession of a heart? Do you feel anything resembling emotion, or is this all just a pretense?”
At the present, mostly pretense. Though not the sort she was talking about, he was sure.
“Oh, I feel,” Ambrose declared. “I feel too damn much.” More than she, his wife, or his brother could ever suspect. “And it changes nothing. You will marry my brother within the coming fortnight and become part of the family you so wished to escape from.”
Inside, a smile spread. Outside he remained remarkably poised. Perhaps in his next life he could try his hand at acting.
