Page 84 of Rough and Rugged
I can hear the pleading in his voice, although insistent and firm. Can I be strong enough to listen without making a fool of myself? I can be stubborn too, but am I a liar? Can I declare I do not love him? Tell an outright fib?
“Open up now!”
With the greatest trepidation, I unlatch the door and swing it wide. To his credit, he looks serious, rather than leering in triumph.
“Thank you,” he says simply.
I nod and lead the way into the Morning Room. I sit, but the duke remains standing. He stares at me for a moment and I stare back, trying to keep any hint of expression off my face, a feat worthy of Drury Lane’s most talented performer, if I am successful.
“Miss Margaret Bowen, my Meg, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I don’t mind if you feel uncomfortable as a duchess, because I feel awkward being a duke. We can be misfits together in Society.”
I tighten my jaw, fighting off hysterical laughter. A misfit; that is exactly what I am.
He remains solemn, not letting his customary grin spread across his face. “I need to learn to be a duke. If I can do that, you can learn to be a duchess. What’s different about duchesses anyway?”
“I have never met a duchess. But I have read about them. The only duke I’ve known was your uncle. And now you,” I add.
“My uncle was one kind of eccentric. I can be a different sort, perhaps odd in that I occupy myself chopping down trees and tending the forest. But in matters of the heart, I suspect I am quite ordinary, just like the young shepherd who pledges himself to his cherished shepherdess in the midst of the sheep meadow. Do you see what I mean, or am I bungling my limited time with you?”
I am seated in my own home, not out in the grass. I am listening to the man I must deny. Shepherd or no shepherd. All I know is that my pulse is pounding, my innards are hollow, my toes are tightly curled. Plus, my brain is overflowing with doubts. “Go on,” is the best I can do at this moment.
“Meg, I cannot imagine life without you. You cannot believe that I would marry Lady Caroline, or anyone else, when I want only you. Forever.”
I nearly cry out in agony. There it is, the thought I cannot allow.Forever. I can feel my face crumpling toward tears and I struggle to fight them back.
“If you run off to Bath, I will follow. I know you love me. I want you beside me here at Aberfeld, restoring the land and filling the house with many little objects of our affection. About four boys and four girls?” His face brightens and a grin spreads across his lips.
I feel a tear running down my cheek. Without a thought in my suddenly empty head, I feel myself nodding.
His smile shakes me to the core. I am melting like jelly on a hot platter. He has won. I
cannot resist this axe-wielding duke. Never has defeat been more agreeable.
“Darling Meg, don’t you see? You are my only duchess.”
He can speak no more. I am smothering him with kisses.
Epilogue
Dearreader,doyouwish to know if their family reached the predicted total of eight children? Indeed, it did. Though five of them were male and three were female, the incorrect forecast did not disappoint either the duke or his duchess.
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Welcometotheworldof Regency Romance! Victoria Hinshaw is a Regency era devotee, lover of Jane Austen and Georgette Heyer, an avid traveler, and frequent blogger on all things historical and British. For more stories from Victoria, please visit:
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