Margaret knew she was being ungracious, so lifted her glass and lightly clinked it against his. ‘To friendship.’
She sipped her champagne as he opened his menu and scanned the contents. He really was making an effort to try and make things easier for her, and surely it would not hurt her to do the same. It was hardly his fault she was so attracted to him. He could hardly be held responsible for being so damn good looking, so charming, so irresistible.
Nor was it his fault he had found himself in this unwanted marriage. He could have refused to marry her, which so many other men would have done. Instead, he had willingly, or perhaps not entirely willingly, sacrificed himself for her and they were now tied togethertill death us do part, as the vicar had said.
And he was right. There was nothing they could do about it now and they should make the best of things.
‘Thank you,’ she said, determined to do just that.
He looked up from the menu, his expression questioning. ‘For what?’
‘Well, for marrying me, I suppose.’
That questioning look did not go away.
‘I’m sorry I’ve been so ill-tempered, blaming you for something that is not your fault.’
‘It’s been a shock for both of us. It’s only been a few weeks since we met. Everything has moved so fast, I think a bit of ill-temper is to be expected, from both of us.’
He really was being so much more gracious than she was, andhehad not shown a hint of ill-temper at any time, even though he had ample reason to do so. Perhaps she should take her lead from him.
‘I apologise if I have ever suggested that you are a cad. You are most certainly not. And you couldn’t be more different from the Earl of Covington. If you were, you would never have let Father force you into this marriage.’
‘That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,’ he replied, that roguish smile once again quirking the edges of his lips.
She smiled back at him.
‘And I meant what I said when we made our vows,’ he added, causing her smile to fade and her brow to furrow in question. He could not possibly mean that he intended to love and cherish and certainly not the last of those three.
‘When I promised you at the altar that it will be all right, I meant it and will do everything in my power to make it so.’
She nodded. Of course he didn’t mean that he took his marriage vows seriously.
‘Thank you,’ she said, knowing she had no right to expect more than that. ‘AndIwill try to make this marriage as tolerable foryouas I possibly can.’
He laughed. ‘Perhaps we should suggest that be added to the wedding vows.’
‘Hmm, it might be a bit more honest than the ones we just made.’
His eyes grew comically wide. ‘What? Are you telling me you really won’t be obeying me? I am shocked.’
She smiled at his teasing. ‘That one, I’m afraid, I won’t even attempt.’
‘And thank goodness for that. If you did it would make me very worried indeed. So, these are our new wedding vows: we are going to make things as tolerable as possible, neither is going to obey the other, and we are to be friends.’
‘It’s agreed.’
She reached across the table to shake his hand. He took her hand in his and gave it a decisive shake. They continued to smile at each other, her hand still in his. She looked into his deep blue eyes. Had she noticed before what an arresting shade they were, reminding her of clear skies on a long summer’s day, or drifts of forget-me-nots, and they were certainly captivating enough to make one forget one’s train of thought.
‘May I take your order?’ the waiter asked, and she quickly released his hand.
‘I don’t know,’ Margaret said, still flustered by thoughts of his eyes. ‘You can order for me.’
‘You’re not about to start obeying me, are you?’
‘Certainly not,’ she responded, then realised he was teasing, so smiled to soften her words.
‘My wife and I will have the consommé, followed by the sole, and fruit for dessert.’
