He glanced at her. “You ask a lot of questions tonight. Are you sure you’ve had a fright?”
“Yes,” she said evenly. “I can’t sleep, and I’m trying to calm myself by talking. If I’m bothering you, you can tell me to stop. You don’t have to answer my questions. I can find another way to soothe my nerves.”
But he found he didn’t mind. “Nobody told me I had a relative who was a duke because there was no onetotell me,” heexplained. “He was some distant relation of my mother’s. She died when I was young, so I had no way of knowing.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Susan’s voice was heavy with sympathy.
Norman shook his head, suddenly regretting having opened up. He never spoke about his mother. “It was a very long time ago,” he said quickly.
“I also lost my mother when I was a child,” Susan said softly. “She didn’t die, so it isn’t the same thing—I would never try to say that it was. Still, I understand what it feels like to have something that should be so certain ripped away from you. It’s terrible. I’m sorry you went through that.”
He was quiet for a long moment. He hadn’t expected her to be able to relate to his pain, and now that she had, he realized he had never experienced anything like it. Everyone who heard the story of what had happened to his mother responded with platitudes. They spoke of heaven, or they talked about how her suffering was at an end. Norman was grateful for the sentiments, but they didn’t help.
This was altogether different. For her to say that she understood his pain, that she knew it hurt him, and just to leave it at that, was incredibly powerful.
“Thank you,” he managed. “I’m sorry about your mother too.”
He had only intended to give her an explanation. An answer to her question. This wasn’t supposed to be a sharing of confidences. But it had turned into that somehow. He felt closer to her than he ever had before—closer than when they had crafted a story together and conspired to lie to everyone they knew.
He looked over at her.
She had lain back on the pillow, and in the flicker of the lantern’s light, he saw that her eyes were closed.I have to let her get some sleep.
He was moved; he realized that she had come to him when she was afraid. He was even more moved that she was able to rest here—that she had so quickly fallen asleep in his presence.
I guess she’s more frightened of storms than she is of me.
Then again, that wasn’t so surprising. Susan had reacted to him in many different ways in the time they had known one another, but she had never struck Norman as frightened. She was too bold for that. Too audacious. Tonight might have been the first time she had ever shown him real fear.
He got up and grabbed the quilt that was draped over the armchair in the corner, then lay back down on the settee. It was really too small for him to sleep comfortably—yet, as he closed his eyes, he found that he didn’t miss his bed at all. It was better that she had it. It was the right thing to have done.
For the first time since the two of them had married, he felt like a real husband—and a good one at that.
CHAPTER 21
“I’m surprised the two of you were willing to have visitors,” Michael commented as he came through the front door. “I think if it was my honeymoon, I would turn away all callers and spend all my time locked in a room with my new wife.”
He smirked at Norman.
Norman rolled his eyes. He had expected this sort of behavior from his cousin, but he didn’t enjoy it. “Show some respect,” he commented. “You’re in the presence of a duchess.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t mind,” Aunt Tabitha said. “And I’m sure she doesn’t object to a bit of company, either, do you, Susan?”
Norman noticed that his aunt hadn’t used Susan’s title. Or given her the respect of referring to her asYour Grace. She really should have done those things—but maybe this was an attemptto be kind, to show Susan that she considered her a member of the family.
At any rate, Susan didn’t appear to be offended. She gave Aunt Tabitha a smile. “You’re quite right, Lady Keethroad,” she said. “I have no objections.”
“Well, I didn’t think you would,” Aunt Tabitha said with a knowing smile. “Of course you don’t object to having your honeymoon interrupted, Susan, since this isn’t a real honeymoon.”
Susan’s jaw dropped.
Norman’s temper flared, too. That was an incredibly rude thing to say. But perhaps Aunt Tabitha meant it as a joke of some kind. He wasn’t going to let it stand, though. “Our honeymoon is as real as anyone’s,” he said. “And I assume you came here for dinner, Aunt Tabitha, not social commentary?”
“Well, I don’t see why we can’t do both,” Aunt Tabitha said with a smirk. “But let us go into dinner, you’re right. Iamhungry.” She turned and led the way toward the dining room.
Susan glanced at Norman, but she didn’t say anything, and after a moment she followed after Aunt Tabitha.
“This is going to be an interesting meal,” Michael remarked.
