Chapter Fifteen
Malcolm caught hold of Duncan’s arm as he headed toward the carriage. “So ye still have no intention of telling me why ye barged into my room last night and demanded to stay there?”
“Keep yer voice down.” Duncan jerked his arm free and cast a hurried glance at the vehicle that held both his greatest love and his greatest sorrow. “And no, ’tis none of yer affair. Now, let it be, ye ken?”
“Whatever ye did, apologize and do better.” Malcolm launched himself up into the saddle. “Make it right, Duncan. Yer wife spoke naught more than a word or two over breakfast. The two of ye behave as though ye’re in mourning.”
They were in mourning. The precious bond between them had died. Duncan barely shook his head. Nay, it had not died. He had killed it.
Without a word to his brother, he climbed into the carriage and settled into the seat beside his beloved wife. Mother and Serendipity sat across from them, both of them looking as if they wished they were somewhere else. He wished he were somewhere else, too.
With an encouraging word from Angus and a rattling of the team’s harnesses, the journey back to London began with a gentle lurch that bumped Merry’s shoulder against Duncan’s.
His heart clenched when she subtly scooted away, drawing closer to her side of the carriage.
She hated him so much that she didn’t even wish to touch him.
“Merry?” Serendipity nervously straightened the seams of her gloves along her fingers. “Are you quite all right? You’ve hardly spoken at all this morning.”
Without taking her gaze from the window, Merry jutted her chin a bit higher. “I am quite well, Seri. Do stop asking if I am all right.”
Serendipity and Duncan’s mother exchanged worried glances.
“I believe ye will like Kirkston Place, daughter,” the dowager said to Merry, her tone hopeful.
“I am sure it will be fine.” Merry folded her arms, hugging her reticule as if it were a favorite doll. She kept her gaze locked on the scenery passing the window.
Duncan’s mother kicked him in the shin and mouthed, What did you do?
He fixed her with a hard glare, then did as his wife and stared out the window.
“What the devil is wrong between the two of ye?” his mother demanded. “Ye married yesterday, and today ye hate one another. What happened? It canna have been all that bad. Ye’ve not been together long enough to warrant a good tussle.”
“We are fine, Mother. Let it go.” He willed her, for once in her long life, to be quiet and stay out of it.
“Merry?” The dowager nudged her daughter-in-law with her toe. “What is wrong? Tell me so I might help ye.”
“As Lord Kirkston said, we are fine.”
Inwardly, Duncan flinched as if she had struck him. If Merry’s tone became any colder, the lot of them would freeze solid.
“Lord Kirkston?” his mother repeated with dismay. She kicked Duncan again. “What the devil did you do?”
“Stop it,” he said in the sharpest tone he had ever used with her. “If ye continue, ye will be put in the carriage with the maids and valets. Am I clear, Mother?”
Her mouth dropped open for a moment, then she snapped it shut. “Quite clear.” With an angry snort, she folded her hands in her lap and turned her attention to the window.
Serendipity stretched and beat on the ceiling with her fist. The carriage immediately rolled to a stop.
“What do you think you are doing?” Duncan asked.
“I refuse to be trapped in this carriage with the two of you for four days. I am switching to the maid’s carriage.” Serendipity gathered up her skirts, shoved the door open, and hopped out. Before stepping away, she turned back and said, “Care to join me, Lady Evelyn?”
“Indeed, I do.” The dowager flounced out of the vehicle and slammed the door shut.
Angus pulled it open and stuck his head inside. “Is there a problem, my lord?”
The poor man had no idea how big a problem there was. “No, Angus. No problem. Once the ladies are settled in the other carriage, please continue on.”
With a puckered, narrow-eyed scowl, Angus nodded and closed the door once again.
As Duncan settled back in the seat, he realized Merry had moved to sit on the other seat across from him. Hellfire and damnation, it was going to be a long trip back to London. “Merry.”
She graced him with an icy look. “Yes, Lord Kirkston?”
“I am not Lord Kirkston to ye. I am yer feckin’ husband. Ye may call me Duncan, dearest, or arsehole, but dinna address me as Lord Kirkston.” She had to understand that he was only doing what was best for them both.
With a snort of disdain that clearly said she had little time for him, she returned her attention to whatever was outside the window.
“My love for ye will never change. Someday, ye will see this is for the best.”
“I am not a child. Do not speak to me in such a manner.”
“Ye are my wife.”
“In name only.” She leveled a hard gaze upon him, a look filled with such fury it made him swallow hard.
“As I informed you last night, you will not come to my bed ever again—not until you are willing to embrace the joy life has to offer and give yourself to me fully. I do not do anything halfway, husband. You would be wise to remember that about me.” She jutted her chin higher.
“If you do not like that arrangement, I suggest you seek an annulment and find another wife.”
“An annulment?” His blood ran cold.
“Yes, I assume you are familiar with the term?”
“Is that what ye wish?”
“No. I want the man I fell in love with to reconsider the fraud he foisted upon me.”
“Fraud?”
“Yes. Fraud. I married you with the understanding that, God willing, someday we would have children. You knew that, and yet you kept your absurd opinion on the matter to yourself until we had already taken our vows. Fraud. Plain and simple.”
Her unjust understanding of the matter surged through him like an uncontrollable blaze. “My opinion is not absurd. I am keeping you safe. Keeping you alive.”
She pursed her lips, eyeing him with a thoughtfulness that warned he had met his match in stubbornness.
“Carriages are dangerous, yet you allow me to ride in one.” She casually flipped a hand in the air.
“Eating and drinking are dangerous. I could choke to death, and yet you allow me to eat and drink.”
“Ye are being ridiculous and hysterical.”
“I am being logical, and you know it.” She gave him a curt nod. “Life is dangerous. All we can do is live each day to the fullest and enjoy it until we die.” She snorted again. “If you live in fear, you do not live at all.”
Damn and blast. Perhaps he should ride atop with Angus. ’Twould be a damn sight safer. “I swore to protect ye.”
“And yet you struck a mortal blow to my heart by deceiving me.” She huffed a deep sigh and looked away, fixing her focus on that infernal window yet again. “You are the one being ridiculous and hysterical.”
“I canna bear to lose ye.”
“I am not some exotic insect meant to be kept pinned to a board for safekeeping, stored away in a cabinet of curiosities to be brought out and shown at dinner parties.” With another disgruntled huff, she slowly shook her head.
“I know your history, Duncan. Your mother and brother told me of your misery, your losses. Can you not see that you are giving your power to the demons of your past? Handing them your opportunities? Relinquishing your life to them?”
“I canna bear to lose ye,” he whispered. It was all he knew to say.
“Then it appears we are at an impasse.” She studied him, sorrow in her eyes.
“I was honest with you. You knew my wishes, and yet you remained silent about your fears until it was too late because you intended to force my hand, force me into living as you deemed fit.” With a faint smile that held nothing but sadness, she continued, “Well, you succeeded. I will never know the joy of holding my own child, our child, in my arms. I will be safe. Childless. And unhappy. Congratulations, you protected me from my sweetest dream.” Then she sat straighter, stiffening her spine.
“But as I have made quite clear, you are not welcome to touch me ever again. You made a mockery of the consummation of our vows. I will not be mocked again and forced to watch my dreams spill onto the bedsheets each time you decide you need some carnal relief.”
“Dinna speak like that, about what we had that way.” Duncan reached for her hand, then halted as she jerked it out of his reach. “Ye must try to understand. Try, Merry, I beg ye.”
“I cannot.”
Duncan thumped the roof of the carriage.
He couldn’t bear another moment in this torturous trap that was squeezing the life from his heart and soul.
As soon as it slowed to a stop, he kicked open the door, jumped out, then slammed it shut, cursing when the effort sent a jolt of pain through his arm.
“Shove over,” he told Angus as he climbed up to sit beside him.
Arching his wild eyebrows nearly to his hairline, Angus did as he was told. “Would ye care to drive, my lord?”
“No. All I care for is peace and quiet.”
“Aye, my lord. Understood.”
*
Lady Evelyn had been quite correct about Kirkston Place being nice and welcoming. Of course, after traveling with a sullen, infuriating, hardheaded husband, Merry would just as happily have settled in the slums of St. Giles Rookery.
Amos, Lady Evelyn’s black cat, had taken a liking to her over the weeks since her arrival, and Merry welcomed the company.
After all, she could tell the loyal feline anything she wished and knew her secrets would be safe.
Today, she had taken refuge in the conservatory, hoping to find a bit of peace for her aching heart.
But while she wandered through an abundance of palms, myrtle, pomegranates, and several varieties of orange and lemon trees, the peace she sought appeared to be in sadly short supply.