“And what?” he asked softly.
She knew this would sound ridiculous, but she couldn’t help it—it was how she felt. “As a little girl, I decided the dukes were the worst. The most pompous, the least caring, the most annoyed with orphaned children underfoot. Because of that, to me, they represent the worst of humanity. The worst of everything.”
He swept the hair from his face, his expression clearing. “That’s why your brothers asked me to marry you under my given name only,” he murmured. “Because you would have refused.”
“Probably,” she conceded. “And now I’m stuck in this gaudy museum.”
He looked heavenward—or rather, gilded-ceilingward. “Come now, it’s not that bad.”
“I would rather live in the cottage.”
“Come to think of it, so would I.” Evidently it was his turn to pace now, because he rose and did so before the carved stone mantel. “My father built this deuced palace, not I,” he said contemplatively. “Let’s move to the cottage. I’ll alert Cavanaugh to pack my things, and Jane needn’t even unpack yours. We’ll make haste for the cottage immediately.”
She swallowed hard. “Are you sure?”
He turned to her and raised a brow. “Are you sure?”
A long silence stretched between them before Kendra sighed. “No,” she said, unsure of anything at the moment. “I don’t want to live in that little cottage. Well, actually, it’s a big cottage, but you know what I mean.”
She dropped to sit on the bed. “I’m accustomed to directing a large household, and I’ll do you proud. It’s only…when I think of all the money it takes to run a place like this—all the servants and goods—for just the two of us…can’t we close up some of it? Close up most of it? Most of Cainewood is closed up. We could take the money and put it to good use, helping orphans or the like.”
Trick sat beside her, smelling of sandalwood soap. He must have come here and bathed, the wretch, while she’d yawned her way through the day, reading poetry.
He took her hand. “If we close up most of the house, think of the people who will lose their jobs. My father hired them, not I, but I cannot find it in my heart to put them them out on the streets.”
“Oh…I hadn’t thought of that.”
His smile, crooked but genuine, did much to thaw her icy anger. “But I’ve something to show you tomorrow. Something I think will please you.”
“What?” She leaned closer.
But then she caught herself and pulled her hand from his grasp. He’d still lied to her, tricked her, and that was hard to forgive. Especially now, with all the years together that loomed ahead…years and years.
“What do you want to show me?” she asked.
“Patience, lass. Let’s get you settled first. Tomorrow will be soon enough.” His smile faded when she yawned. “Sleepy, are you?”
“I didn’t sleep much last night. So much has happened so fast.” She sighed, then fell back to the pillows. “I know it’s early still, but I’d like to just go to bed.”
“Excellent idea. Yesterday was a long and difficult day.” Trick rose, shrugged out of his surcoat, and began unlacing his shirt. “I believe I’ll join you.”
She leapt from the bed. “Oh! I thought this was my chamber.”
“It is.” The shirt came off over his head, and her eyes widened.
His bare chest looked sculpted, with a light sprinkling of blond hair that glimmered in the firelight. She swallowed hard. “Then where is your chamber?”
“It’s mine, too.” He sat to pull off his boots. “We’re married. We’re allowed to share a chamber. I’ve a piece of paper to prove it.”
“But…” She glanced around wildly. “This is a suite, isn’t it? What’s on the other side of that door?”
“A dressing chamber. Feel free to use it. Your clothes are inside.” At her look of astonishment, he added, “Jane has been here all day, arranging your things. I gave her the evening off.”
“I thought you said she hadn’t unpacked yet. And she’s my maid.”
“I believe she’s in my employ, now.” His second boot hit the floor with a thud.
“You’re a duke, for heaven’s sake. Don’t you have a valet?”
“Cavanaugh. But I prefer to undress myself, much to the poor man’s constant chagrin.” His hands on the waistband of his breeches, he looked up. “Actually, I’d prefer to have you undress me, but…” A wry grin revealed that irresistible chipped tooth, and the twinkle in his eye was unsettling. “No, I thought not. But I can play your maid again tonight, if you wish.”
“No, thank you.” She stalked over to the dressing room and shut the door behind her, then had to duck back into the bedchamber for a candle. Gritting her teeth against his laugh, she closeted herself again and began hunting for a night rail.
Every bit as fancy as the bedchamber, the dressing room had a delicate wood table and two upholstered, fringed stools in the center. One wall was covered with an enormous gilt-framed mirror, another wall was lined with wardrobe cabinets, and there were two walls of those newfangled chests of drawers.
The first drawer she opened was filled with Trick’s folded things, and she slammed it shut. She found her own clothes in the third chest she tried. Quickly she stripped out of the wedding dress, diving into the thickest, most voluminous night rail she owned. Her fingers fumbled with the clasp of the amber bracelet, but she finally managed to remove it and set it on the little inlaid table.
The bracelet sat there, taunting her. Amber. The Duchess of Amberley…
Od’s fish, however had she ended up in this predicament? Exactly where she’d sworn she’d never be.
When she reopened the door, Trick was in the bed, and—from all she could tell—stark naked. She paced beside the carved gilt monstrosity, hoping he was already asleep.
His hand shot out to grab hers, stopping her in her tracks. “I gave you my word; I won’t ever try to coerce you. You needn’t worry.”
She bit her lip, eyeing his bare arm and shoulders.
