Forbidden Noble by Victoria Pinder

Author:Victoria Pinder [Pinder, Victoria]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Victoria Pinder

Chapter 12

If every night of being married to Astorre were like the past few then Clara's time as an unfortunate soul was over.

Though she probably wouldn't walk right, but that was fine.

She left the shower and dressed in another knee-length skirt and blouse; the skirt was olive green and the button-down of the day was black.

Astorre returned to their room with coffees on a tray. She took the cup and kissed his cheek then went in search of her black flats. She pointed toward the window with her head. “The fog is back.”

He placed the tray of food on a side table as he said, “It’s never really gone here.”

Right now she was too happy to actually eat. She finished her coffee and put her cup down. “It’s a good thing you have a castle then. I’d like to see the town.”

He grabbed his phone out of his back pocket. “I’ll summon umbrellas.”

“Later.” She waved him off and picked up a small raspberry tart, popping it in her mouth.

It was heavenly.

He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall in front of the bed. “What else do you want?”

She grabbed a second tart as it was delicious. “Your sister said you had a closet with a lost key. I worked as a locksmith and can try to jimmy the lock.”

“Interesting, but unnecessary.” His face tightened and he pushed off from the wall. “It's in my boyhood room.”

So this room they were staying in wasn’t where he'd hid when he’d been a sad boy missing his mother.

Clara had vivid memories of her room at her grandmother’s house and how she'd always wished her adoptive parents hadn’t died. She’d lie on the bed with her eyes closed and imagine a different life, like the one she led now. She reached out and brushed his forearm. “This wasn’t your room then?”

He shook his head and let out a small sigh like he felt a spark between them too. “No, this was my grandfather’s chamber. He was truly the last worthy lord of Montelino Bay.”

Worthy. Deserve. Her husband had clear lines in the sand. She’d tackle that slowly--later. “How are you the Duke of Modena if everyone here is a lord?”

He relaxed his shoulders as if grateful for the distraction. “The house and the title are different names.”

When he'd first explained that she was a duchess, he’d said "grace" but no one here used that fancy title as it wasn’t in the military chain of addresses. She took a seat on the bed. “Yes, but your title is Modena and that sounds modern.”

He sat beside her, pushing the bedspread aside. “We do have a modern town nearby, but that can’t be protected inside the walls.”

This was more responsibility than she'd imagined. Her friend, Rossie, was redecorating her home but not listening to cases. Clara preferred to pitch in however best she could. She slipped her flats off and then crossed her legs on the mattress. “But you’re in charge there too?”

He nodded. “There are duties of nobility and family responsibility.

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