The Day of the Duchess (Scandal & Scoundrel #3)(76)

Leaving him alone with Lady Lilith and Lady Felicity, both with handsome color high on their cheeks, the result of the ride. It occurred that they might be considered pretty if he cared to notice, which he didn’t. He was too busy watching his wife.

Nevertheless, he was not a monster, nor was he interested in navigating the gauntlet of his sisters-in-law, and so he guided the remaining suitesses to the entrance of the folly, indicating they should enter. When they did, he pointed to the winding stone staircase that led up the tower. “There is a remarkable view of the entire estate at the top if you do not mind the climb.”

Lady Lilith was already headed up the steps, and Lady Felicity followed quickly, Haven trailing behind. When they reached the top of the tower, coming out into the sunlight, both headed immediately for the stone parapets to lean out and survey the land that stretched in miles in every direction.

Haven took to the far edge of the tower, looking over the side to find Sera and her sisters below, deep in conversation. He stood, watching them, wishing he could hear their words as his companions narrated the view, largely to each other.

“Cor, this is beautiful,” Lady Felicity said after a long sigh.

“The best bit of the whole house party, don’t you think?” Lilith replied, excitement in her voice.

“It was built in the 1750s,” he interjected, telling himself that if he was participating in the girls’ conversation, he was not pining like a simpering boy after his wife three stories down. “A gift from my great-grandfather to the woman he loved.”

Lilith turned. “Not your great-grandmother, I’m guessing?”

He smirked humorlessly at that. “No.”

The Dukes of Haven did not marry for love.

Not until him.

And even then, he’d mucked it up.

The ladies had returned to looking at the estate. “There’s a dower house! Did you know there was a dower house?”

“I didn’t! And look at the lake. It’s beautiful.” A pause. “Goodness, is that a statue at the center of it? How curious! Simply rising up out of the water! Is it Orion, Your Grace?” Felicity Faircloth looked to him for an answer.

Malcolm ignored the pang of disappointment that these women had discovered the statue that marked the underwater ballroom before Sera had. His gaze tracked to his wife far below, and he answered the question. “It is.”

If I vowed to always hunt you, would you take flight?

She had taken flight last night and did so still, far below, earthbound, looking as though she might do it in earnest at any moment—turn into a dove and leave him, forever.

What if she did not want him? What if he could never have her?

He hated the questions that came with the harsh memory of the night before, when she’d lingered on the past, invoking without words the child that they had lost. The history they had never been able to make.

They could make a future, though. He believed it.

They had a chance, did they not?

Please, let them have a chance.

She looked up then, as if she had heard the unspoken thought from three stories below. He met her gaze and held it, unwilling to let her go.

She looked away.

Lady Felicity pointed to a manor in the distance. “And what’s that over there?”

He looked up from his wife and followed her line of sight. “It’s the seat of the Dukedom of Montcliff.”

Felicity nodded. “I’ve never liked that man.”

His brows rose at her frank assessment of his reclusive neighbor. “No, not many do.”

“Not many people like you, either,” Lilith said.

The honest words startled him, and he turned to face the girls—Lilith, with a knowing smirk on her lips, and Felicity, wide-eyed in what could only be described as joyous shock. He let silence reign for a moment before dipping his head. “That, too, is true.”

“Why?” Felicity asked.

“Are you two banding together?” They looked to each other and shared a grin, and Haven decided that he liked them. “Is this the bit where I am put on trial?”

“It’s a fair question, don’t you think?” Lilith pointed out. “We should know precisely what sort of fish we are buying.”

“If we wish to have fish at all.”

Ignoring the odd metaphor, Haven spread his hands wide. “By all means, then. Ask away.”

He’d never seen such glee. Lady Lilith actually rubbed her hands together.

Felicity lifted herself up to sit on the low stone wall, in the space between the parapets, then leaned forward with her elbows on her thighs, posture to the wind, as though they’d been friends for a lifetime. “They say you’re a terrible husband.”

He lifted his chin at the shocking statement.

“Good Lord, Felicity,” Lilith said, low and full of wonder. “Your mother would perish on the spot if she heard that.”

“My mother doesn’t have to marry him,” Felicity said, not looking away from Malcolm.

“It seems we’re jumping right in,” Lilith said, dryly.

No one would ever say Felicity Faircloth was not a worthy opponent. He leaned back against the parapet and confessed, the words coming shockingly easy. “I have not been the best of husbands.”

“They say you are unfaithful.” His lips flattened into a long, thin line, but he did not scare away this young brave woman. Instead, Felicity Faircloth continued. “And that’s why Lady Eversley knocked you into a fishpond.”