“Just look at this!” She leapt up and gestured wildly at the room: the padded, satin-lined walls, the carved and gilded ceiling, the four-poster bed crowned with garish poufs of red-dyed ostrich feathers. “See what I mean? Who wants to live in a place like this? I swear, it puts Whitehall to shame!”
He gave a short bark of a laugh at what she knew must be a look of utter disgust on her face. “I know women who would kill for—”
“Kill for this? That’s the first thing you’ve said all day that makes any sense.”
“I don’t care for this decor, either,” he said evenly. “But why do you hate it so much? I want to understand.”
“Oh, I knew this would be impossible to explain! It’s long, and it’s convoluted, and it doesn’t seem to make sense to anyone but me. It’s certainly never made sense to any of my brothers.”
“I’m not your brothers. Tell me, however long it takes.”
With a sigh, she sat back down and thought for a long minute, then clasped her hands in her lap before beginning.
“I won’t pretend I don’t enjoy balls and pretty clothes and the other things money can buy as much as the next woman. But I think I know what’s important beneath all the trappings. I told my brothers again and again that I don’t care about titles. I wanted to marry a man I was wildly in love with, but even more, a man I could admire. For who he was inside, not a false honor that society had settled upon him.”
“I didn’t ask to be a duke—” Trick began.
Waving him off, she jumped up again, not at all ready to listen yet. “During the Commonwealth,” she said as she resumed pacing, “my family’s title was a liability, not an asset. We hadn’t the choice to stay home and go about our business like normal people. Instead we were exiled paupers, dragged from Paris, to Cologne, to Brussels, Bruges, Antwerp—wherever King Charles and his court wandered. It was then I learned it’s what’s inside a person that counts. Some people were kind to us, and some were not. And their rank had nothing to do with it.” Her voice dropping, she stopped and turned to him. “And…”
“And what?” he asked softly.
She knew this would sound ridiculous, but she couldn’t help it—it was how she felt. “As a little girl, I decided the dukes were the worst. The most pompous, the least caring, the most annoyed with orphaned children underfoot. Because of that, to me, they represent the worst of humanity. The worst of everything.”
He swept the hair from his face, his expression clearing. “That’s why your brothers asked me to marry you under my given name only,” he murmured. “Because you would have refused.”
“Probably,” she conceded. “And now I’m stuck in this gaudy museum.”
He looked heavenward—or rather, gilded-ceilingward. “Come now, it’s not that bad.”
“I would rather live in the cottage.”
“Come to think of it, so would I.” Evidently it was his turn to pace now, because he rose and did so before the carved stone mantel. “My father built this bloody palace, not I,” he said contemplatively. “Let’s move to the cottage. I’ll alert Cavanaugh to pack my things, and Jane needn’t even unpack yours. We’ll make haste for the cottage immediately.”
She swallowed hard. “Are you sure?”
He turned to her and raised a brow. “Areyousure?”
A long silence stretched between them before Kendra sighed. “No,” she said, unsure of anything at the moment. “I don’t want to live in that little cottage. Well, actually, it’s a big cottage, but you know what I mean.”
She dropped to sit on the bed. “I’m accustomed to directing a large household, and I’ll do you proud. It’s only…when I think of all the money it takes to run a place like this—all the servants and goods—for just the two of us…can’t we close up some of it? Close up most of it? Most of Cainewood is closed up. We could take the money and put it to good use, maybe help some orphans or something.”
Trick sat beside her, smelling of sandalwood soap. He must have come here and bathed, the wretch, while she’d yawned her way through the day, reading poetry.
He took her hand. “If we close up most of the house, think of the people who will lose their jobs. My father hired them, not I, but I cannot find it in my heart to put them them out on the streets.”
“Oh…I hadn’t thought of that.”
His smile, crooked but genuine, did much to thaw her icy anger. “And I’ve something to show you tomorrow. Something I think will please you.”
“What?” She leaned closer to his enticing scent.
But then she caught herself and pulled her hand from his grasp. He’d still lied to her, tricked her, and that was hard to forgive. Especially now, with all the years that loomed ahead…years and years.
“What do you want to show me?” she asked.
“Patience, lass. Let’s get you settled first. Tomorrow will be soon enough.” His smile faded when she yawned. “Sleepy, are you?”
“Thanks to you.” She glared at him, then fell back to the pillows. “I know it’s early still, but I’d like to just call it a night.”
