It might have been Rothesby. Argyll’s gaze went through the other man. It might have been Rothesby—if she had not secreted out to find Argyll on a terrace, much like this one.
But for a twist of—
Fate. His lips shaped the word in silence.
While Daria and the duke spoke easily of her family, Argyll remained caught in a storm, seeing past the irrational jealousy of the other man.
They went back…
Their history was shared through Landon, who had wed into the Kearsleys. She had spoken of blackguards she’d known before Argyll.
“…It’s because I did not know you. If I did not believe you to be cruel and shallow, I would never have married you…”
His breath hitched. His eyes opened. He stared at Daria, seeing it all with sudden clarity—seeing her with sudden clarity.
“I will leave you both to your night air,” Rothesby was saying. “You may keep the cards,Duchess. I owed you a deck.” He winked—at Argyll’s wife.
And it did not sting quite so badly. That is, he did not feel compelled to end the chap’s future line with one well-placed knee.
Not all relationships were steeped in deceit and treachery and betrayal and…and…lust…
Daria laughed, and waved. “Good evening, Rothesby.”
Argyll remembered himself and executed a bow in return.
When he had gone, Daria sank to one knee beside the scattered cards, as though nothing of consequence had occurred out here.
And in one way, was she right.
Nothing had.
Every part of Argyll’s life involved scheming. Battles. People were never as they seemed; everyone’s intent was malicious.
For a man who moved in twisted circles, discovering his wife with another man had meant betrayal.
Daria’s soft singing voice filled the air around them.
“The wind doth blow today, my love,
And a few small drops of rain,”
Argyll stood, transfixed, fists balled at his side.
“…I never had but one true-love…”
His chest tightened.
I love her.
There came no rush of terror.
A spark caught, and the warmth fanned softly and warm through him.
She was the joy he didn’t know there could be. The light. The good.
“’Tis down in yonder garden green,
Love, where we used to walk,
