“You may stay as long as you desire.” The duke cleared his throat. “I confess to becoming used to having you around.”
“Rather like a pet dog?” she interjected wryly.
The duke laughed heartily. “I have grown fond of you, Meredith, as you are no doubt well aware. I will admit, however, that was not always the circumstance.”
The tension eased and Meredith smiled also. “Why did you dislike me so much? I do not recall ever meeting you until Trevor introduced us the day we were married.”
“Ahhh, but we had met. Three years prior at a ball. When I went into the supper room, I noticed you immediately. You were surrounded by several men, all of whom were hanging upon your every word. I thought you were a beautiful young woman, flirting and flattering with her many suitors, but as I strolled past I heard you spouting advice about making an investment in the Lowry shipping company.”
“What was I saying?”
“A bunch of nonsense.”
Meredith frowned as she tried to recall the particulars. “As best I remember, I have never invested any money in a shipping firm of that name.”
“Well, some of us did.” The duke’s mouth curled in self-derision. “Lost a fair amount of coin, too. How in blazes could you, a mere slip of a girl, know the investment was ill advised?”
Meredith’s brow furrowed as she tried to remember the details. “I always investigate a business opportunity thoroughly before committing any funds. There must have been something about this firm . . . wait! I remember now. It was the captain of the largest schooner. He drank heavily. It was obvious he could not be trusted. I concluded his successful trading runs of the past were merely luck and assumed his luck would eventually run out.”
“It did,” the duke grumbled. “Along with a good portion of my money.”
“You should have listened to my advice,” Meredith countered, trying to keep the smug edge of satisfaction from her tone.
“Investment advice from a woman? A young woman?” The duke shook his head. “Ridiculous.”
“I know ’tis practically a crime for a female to have a functioning brain that she often uses—”
“It is a serious liability,” the duke interrupted. “However, given the challenges you and my son are facing, I am hopeful that in your case it will prove to be an asset.”
Meredith was momentarily shocked into silence. His confidence in her was both humbling and frightening. If only she possessed the same degree of hope concerning the state of her marriage. The coach halted a final time and Meredith realized they had arrived home. The duke escorted her up the main staircase.
“Good night, sir. Sleep well.” Meredith leaned forward, raised herself to the tips of her toes, and kissed the duke’s cheek. This too had become a nightly ritual.
“Good night.” The duke turned toward his sleeping quarters.
Meredith smiled wryly as she began the lonely, solitary walk to her rooms. That nightly kiss was the only one she bestowed upon any man these days, unless her brothers came to call.
She turned the final corner on her meandering journey and immediately noticed something amiss. The door leading to Trevor’s rooms stood open. How odd. In the past weeks, the door had always remained closed. Why was it open now?
Nervous energy surged through her as she cautiously passed it. The hall was lit with candelabra set on various pieces of furniture, as well as several sconces. In comparison, the marquess’s chambers seemed dark, lit by three single candles, each placed in the darkest corners of the large room.
Though the light was poor, Meredith was unable to resist pausing so she could look inside. To her utter shock, she saw a male figure sitting in a wing chair near the window. Trevor?
She must have whispered his name, for the man looked up at her. Meredith gasped.
“Ah, there you are at last,” the marquess called out. “Come in.”
When she made no move to comply with his command, he stood up and walked to the threshold. Meredith found herself staring into his blue eyes. She had never known a man with eyes so extraordinary, so beautiful. They were perfectly formed, fringed with dark lashes and the color of a sun-kissed sky.
“Come in,” he repeated softly.
Meredith pulled her gaze away and licked her suddenly dry lips. She made a move forward, then stopped. The marquess had invited her inside, yet he blocked the entrance.
He seemed amused by her dilemma. She angled her shoulder and tried again. Her back brushed against his front. Meredith stifled a tremor of anticipation, angry with her traitorous body for feeling such an extraordinary rush of pleasure.
“Is there something in particular you wish to discuss?” she asked formally.
“Must a husband have a specific reason to speak with his wife?”
