Page 56 of Stolen and Seduced By the Duke

Pierce pulled out her chair and regarded her with the faintest hint of amusement.

"Immensely. It is one of the chief pleasures of being a duke." He gestured for her to sit, and Margaret lowered herself into the chair, painfully aware of how close he stood behind her. "I had no other means of getting you to appear before me," he added as he took his own seat. "You have been avoiding me."

Margaret folded her hands upon the table and lifted her chin. "Perhaps I had a perfectly good reason."

His brow rose. "I am certain you believed you did."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You see? That tone alone makes me wish I had remained upstairs."

Pierce's mouth twitched, but he did not rise to the bait. "You were angry."

"I was furious," Margaret corrected, reaching for her glass. "You accused me of endangering Hugh when I had done nothing but feed him."

"You were alone with him after I specifically told you not to be."

"And he ate every bite of his luncheon." She gave him a pointed look. "Every bite."

Pierce reached for his wine with maddening calm. "I am aware."

Margaret's eyebrows lifted. "Then perhaps you might explain why you have spent two days behaving as though I had committed some dreadful crime."

"I did not say you had committed a crime," Pierce replied. "You behaved recklessly."

Margaret stared at him. "You have an astonishing ability to make the words thank you for feeding my son sound like an accusation."

He looked up at her, and there was something almost warm in his expression. "Very well. Thank you for feeding my son."

She waited. "And?" she prompted.

"And you were right about Hugh responding to you."

Margaret blinked. She had expected an argument, not an admission.

"So you were wrong about your rules?" she asked, unable to resist.

Pierce's expression immediately hardened. "Do not overreach yourself."

Margaret smiled despite herself. "How difficult it must be for you to admit that another person has discovered something you overlooked."

"It was a single incident," he said firmly. "One successful meal does not make you an expert."

"Is it truly so painful to say, ‘Margaret, I was wrong’?" she asked sweetly.

"I was not wrong about you not yet knowing how to care for Hugh. I was wrong about the method."

Her smile faded into surprise. "That," she said softly, "is almost an apology."

"Do not become accustomed to it," he replied.

Margaret laughed under her breath. "Heaven forbid."

The servants entered and served the first course of soup and bread.

She picked up her spoon, but the tension between them had changed. Beneath their argument was something neither seemed willing to name, something warm and restless that had existed since the masquerade and had only grown more troublesome since their marriage.

She could remember his mouth against hers with humiliating clarity, and she hated that the memory returned whenever he stood too close. She hated even more that she did not truly wish it away.

Pierce leaned back slightly, studying her. "You are smiling."