“Why did you return?” her husband asked abruptly.
Birdie stirred her porridge, carefully weighing her next words. After a moment of reflection, she decided to tell him the truth. “Because it was raining, and I had no place to go. I realised my reaction was overly exaggerated, that you clearly weren’t a phantom, and that I wanted to get married. Very much so.”
He looked taken aback. “Why?”
Why did a girl want to get married? Wasn’t that self-evident? “Independence,” she replied. “A married woman is freer than an unmarried one. I never enjoyed being a spinster. Existing at the charity of others. If you marry, you have your own household in which you can be in charge. Even if it’s just deciding what’s for supper.”
“You could’ve married someone else.”
Birdie uttered an involuntary laugh.
“I fail to understand what is so amusing.” The man’s black eyebrows came together in a scowl.
“It is simple. No one would have me. I have nothing to offer. Neither prospects, dowry, nor, alas, beauty.” Birdie pulled at a bedraggled lock of hair that hung limply down her face. She still had mud stuck in her hair. She looked candidly into her husband’s face. “And, as it turns out, you’re a duke. A somewhat eccentric one who seems to live the life of a hermit, but a duke, nonetheless. That’s not such a bad catch.”
“But you didn’t know I was a duke when you returned.” He emphasised the word ‘duke’ as if this seemed to matter to him.
“No, I didn’t. It came as a surprise.” She stirred her porridge slowly. She wondered whether Cecily would’ve liked to marry him after all, had she known he was a duke.
Her husband sighed. “I inherited the dukedom unexpectedly from a very remote relative. So distant, that the ‘relative’ is not even applicable. I had no idea there was such a title in my family. But it turned out there was, and he had no issue. So, I inherited.” He shrugged dismissively.
Birdie propped an elbow on the table. It all sounded wildly romantic.
“You inherited the castle and the title and the grounds. That’s rather fantastic. That doesn’t happen too often to people.”
His harsh laughter made her jump.
“I inherited more debt than anything else. This pile of stone here, and another degenerated estate further south. But never fear. My captain’s pension yields sufficient funds to take care of a wife.”
“So, what is going to happen next?” she asked conversationally. He still had not touched his bowl. Was he ever going to eat that?
“Next?”
“Yes. What happens now?”
“You finish your porridge, get back in the carriage and return to where you came from.”
Birdie dropped her spoon in the bowl with a clank.
“But we’re only just married!”
“Yes. Thank you for reminding me of that incontrovertible fact. I had all but forgotten.” His voice was dry.
“I don’t understand.”
He fiddled with something underneath the table and then thumped a heavy-looking velvet pouch before her. The contents inside clinked.
“What is this?” Birdie raised a perplexed eyebrow.
“Your allowance. You will receive this amount per annum from now on. You can do with it as you wish.”
“That is supremely generous of you, but—” Birdie shook her head. “You mentioned you wanted me to leave. Or did I misunderstand?”
He nodded tersely. “The condition is that you return to the vicarage. You may also stay at Sandmoore Hall, but I have been informed that it is in worse shape than this place here. London is another alternative. My father’s townhouse.”
Birdie pressed her fingers against her temple. “You are sending me away? This marriage is to be in name only?”
“Precisely.”
