Page 16 of My Cruel Duke

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I am your friend, and I may have the solution to your problem,” Philip offered.

“What makes you think that I have a problem? I required a drink. I have it,” He held up the bottle in any case Philip had missed it. “And now, I would like to drink this whiskey… alone.” Rhysand did not want to be blatantly rude, but the marquess was horrible at reading a room.

“If you tell me what bothers you, I shall leave.”

“I am married.” He raised his ringed left hand. Philip’s eyes widened.

“Who was mad enough to get married to you?” His brows drew downward in a frown.

Rhysand should have known Philip would react like that.

“I took advantage of her misfortune.”

Philip said nothing for a while, and Rhysand regretted speaking. It was an indication to stop drinking. He was on his fourth drink.

“Did you compromise her?”

“No!”

“Then what happened?”

And for the next half an hour, he explained how he managed to convince Penelope to marry him and how their union made him uneasy. So much for a man with no friends.

“Hmm,” Philip appeared to be in deep thought with his thumb under his chin. “The way I see it, you have put up walls around you.” Rhysand narrowed his eyes. “For obvious reasons,” the marquess was quick to add. “And all she asks is for you to lower them, just a little.”

“I cannot do that. She is… inexperienced; she will come up with ideas in her head and expect more from me.”

“Seems to me she might not be the only one who will expect more,” Philip’s eyes flickered a little.

“All I want from her is an heir and nothing else. I do not possess the time for anything else, I am a busy man.”

“If you are sure of yourself, then you should have no issue lowering your walls for her. I support her notion that a child should not be brought into the world while its parents have not figured out their relationship.”

At this, Rhysand said nothing. He appeared lost in thought.

“You sound just like her.”

“Then she must be smart and overflowing in wisdom.”

Rhysand shook his head. Why did he say anything to him? There was no point.

“Cease from being defensive and show her a little bit of who the real Rhysand is.”

“The real Rhysand,” he repeated, his lips twisting into a cynical smile.

Oh, how he would show Penelope who the real Rhysand was. He would make sure he removed every thought of them having a normal marriage from her pretty head and begged him to send her to her new home on her own.

Chapter9

Four days.

Four days and twenty hours to be exact. That was how long it had been since Penny set her eyes on her husband, sans their wedding day. It seemed as though the argument at the dinner table had wrought more damage than she had intended. Good.

But was it, though? Her husband had been avoiding her like the plague since he returned that night, wobbling his way into the house and then to his room. She had hidden behind a Corinthian column when she heard his staggering footsteps and watched as he stumbled against a stair and cursed loudly. She had placed a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles as he sprawled colorful words at his otherwise dark passageway. It was why she suggested brightening up the place.

“Do not hope to find anything more than duty in our marriage because I will break your heart.”