Page 85 of Stolen and Seduced By the Duke

It should have pleased Pierce merely because Hugh was happier, yet some deeper satisfaction accompanied it. Margaret had taught him how to reach his son without demanding obedience from him. It was a lesson Pierce had never imagined needing to learn.

By the middle of the week, another change had become equally apparent. Pierce had relaxed several of his household rules.

Margaret could alter the routines without requesting permission, spend additional hours in the nursery, and even take tea in the library whenever she pleased. In return, she seemed determined not to provoke him merely for sport. She no longer disappeared without leaving word, no longer deliberately challenged every instruction and, much to Pierce's surprise, had begun consulting him before making decisions concerning Hugh.

One afternoon, she appeared in his study with a small basket over one arm. "I am taking Hugh into the garden after tea," she announced, standing near his desk.

Pierce looked up from his correspondence. "Very well."

Margaret blinked. "Very well?"

"Yes."

"You are not going to tell me that it is too cold, or too hot, or too sunny?"

"I have looked out the window."

"Nor insist that the nanny accompany us?"

"She will."

Margaret stared at him suspiciously. "You have become remarkably agreeable."

Pierce leaned back in his chair. "Do not become accustomed to it."

Her mouth curved. "I shall try not to."

He watched her leave, wondering why her obedience should feel so much less satisfying than he had expected. This was precisely what he had wanted: fewer arguments, fewer challenges, and a wife who understood that his household had rules. Yet the silence left behind by their disagreements felt strangely empty.

Worse, Margaret had become equally disciplined about their private arrangement. She no longer lingered when he entered a room. She no longer looked at his mouth before catching herself. She kept the agreement about intimacy with an almost maddening precision.

Pierce had expected relief. Instead, he was becoming increasingly frustrated. Finding himself thinking back on the intimate moments they had already spent together.

Why must I always be thinking of consummating the marriage?

One evening, he found her in the drawing room reading beside the fire. "Good evening, Duchess," he said, stopping in the doorway.

She looked up and smiled politely. "Good evening, Your Grace."

She’s being polite.

That single word irritated him more than it had any right to.

"Are you enjoying your book?" he asked.

"Very much."

"I see."

Margaret lowered the book slightly. "Is there something you require?"

"No."

"Then why are you standing there?"

Pierce folded his arms. "I am not certain."

Her eyes narrowed with amusement. "That must be an uncomfortable experience for a man who usually knows exactly what he wants."