The Inconvenient Duchess (Harlequin Historical) by Merrill Christine

Author:Merrill, Christine [Merrill, Christine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-04-01T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

She sat alone at the luncheon table with cold salmon and trepidation. She was being punished, she suspected, for the outburst in the bedroom.

And then she heard the distant sound of doors opening, and commotion in the hall. She was beginning to suspect that, wherever he went, a cloud of noise and action swirled around the duke.

He strode into the dining room and took his place at the head of the table, barely noticing her, as footmen rushed forward to fill his plate and glasses. He fell to eating, without saying a word, but stopped after a few bites, to look up at her. His expression held no cloud of memory of his earlier outburst.

‘This salmon is uncommonly good. Did you sack the cook as well?’

‘No. I merely oversaw the purchasing of the foodstuffs. You’ll find, now that the food that is ordered actually makes it to the table, the quality of the meals has improved.’

‘And will continue to improve, after the cook hears of the increase in pay?’

‘I believe she has already heard, your Grace. Marcus,’ she corrected. ‘Today’s luncheon is noticeably better than yesterday’s supper.’

He shrugged and took another bite. ‘If the trend continues, I’ll have to consider eating supper at home.’

‘If there are dishes that might tempt you to dine here, please inform me, so that I can provide them.’

The fork stopped, midway to his mouth, and he examined her before answering. Then he took a slow sip of wine. ‘Of course. If there is anything that might tempt me to remain home, you’ll be the first to know.’

He continued to stare over his fork at her until she blushed from the attention.

Then he went on. ‘That dress is most becoming on you. It brings out the colour in your cheeks.’

‘Thank you. Marcus,’ she added with difficulty.

The conversation died.

She chewed in silence. It was going to get awfully monotonous if the course of every meal involved a remark on the food, a remark on her dress, and silence. What did she talk about, when in the bosom of the family? What they’d done. What they were planning to do.

And if she asked Marcus where he’d been for two weeks? He could tell her, and she might not like the answer, or the silence could grow even deeper.

‘Do you have plans this afternoon, Marcus?’

He looked over the fork again. ‘Why? Do you have a suggestion?’

It was an innuendo, she suspected. She chose to ignore it. ‘No, Marcus. Only table talk. You needn’t answer, if you don’t wish to.’

They ate in silence for another bite.

‘I was thinking,’ he said at last, ‘of visiting some of the outlying farms.’

She nodded and took another bite.

‘You may accompany me. If you wish, that is. I mean, the tenants might think it quite an honour to receive a visit from the duchess. It’s something they’ve come not to expect, in the years my mother held the title.’ He contemplated his wine. ‘Of course, if you do not wish...’

‘Oh, no. I mean, of course I’d like to ride with you.

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