Married to the Marquess

by Rebecca Connolly

  Derek managed a wan smile and allowed her to loop her arm through his. “You aren’t walking alone, are you? If Edward is gone…”

  “No, no,” she interrupted, waving him off, “I know better than that. Charles is about twenty paces back. He is not very happy with me for going out so early, but I don’t sleep well when Edward is gone, and a morning walk does wonders for my… condition.” She made a face of disgust. “Mornings are always so unpleasant. But the fresh air helps a great deal.”

  “Are you well?”

  She shrugged lightly. “Well enough, all things considered. I daresay the unpleasantness will pass soon enough.” She looked up at him knowingly. “What about you?”

  He opened his mouth, then closed it again. What was there to say? No, he was not well. He was so very far from well.

  “I see,” she murmured, rubbing at his arm soothingly. “All right, then, Derek Chambers, the moment after I have eaten, and you have as well, we are going to have a discussion. A very long, very detailed, very intense discussion about what is plaguing you.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said roughly, stiffening in her hold.

  “That is just too bad,” she snapped, her green eyes flashing up at him. “You know perfectly well that you never keep secrets from me, nor I from you. You are not about to start now when you need somebody to talk to, no matter how you bristle about it.”

  “Tyrant,” he muttered, though he felt the tension leaving him. What would it hurt to tell Diana? She was right, he always told her everything. She knew him well, as well as any sister had ever known a brother. She had grown wise and he valued her opinions and advice. And she liked and respected Kate. Yes, he could tell Diana. He might get beaten over the head with the nearest blunt object, but at least he would know it was well deserved.

  “All right, Derek, tell me everything.”

  Derek quirked a brow at his sister, who was now sitting on the sofa in her morning room, and staring rather expectantly at him. True to her word, she had forced him to eat breakfast with her, and grudgingly he had done so, his nonexistent hunger flaring up once he had begun, which had made Diana smirk in satisfaction. Now that he sat in the chair next to her, he found himself even more reluctant than before to share what had happened.

  As if she could sense his turmoil, Diana reached over and took his hand. “Derek,” she said softly. “Tell me. Please.”

  He sighed heavily and settled himself more completely in his chair. This was going to take a while. Then, slowly, he began to tell her what had been happening, how he had struggled to find a way to show Kate what she meant to him, how he had promised to stay, how close they were becoming. All the while Diana smiled, still holding his hand tightly.

  When he reached the part about the fight with the duke, about forcing Kate to do her duty, Diana’s face became a mask of horror and revulsion and her hold on his hand became clenching. But, much to her credit, she said nothing, which Derek appreciated.

  He tried to rush through the part about his fight with Kate, but Diana forced him to recount everything in detail, slowly, reliving the terrible moments over again. Again her face had transformed, this time into a vacant expression, without any single emotion to be identified. Some small corner of his mind warned him about the danger in that, but it was too late to retreat now.

  His tale finally told, he sat back fully and slid his hand from Diana’s grasp and met her eyes fully.

  “So, what do you think?”

  Diana swallowed, seemed to gather her thoughts, then said, “First, I think our father showed a deplorable lack of intelligence, tact, and good behavior with respect to your wife, and in his treatment of you. His words were barbaric and callous, not to mention very poorly thought out. There is no excuse for that. It’s no wonder you were so agitated, I would have been spitting fire. Poor Kate, what a burden to have to bear!”

  Derek gave her a faint smile of acknowledgement, but said nothing.

  “Second, I think both you and her are behaving like a couple of spoiled children.”

  “I beg your pardon?” he coughed, sitting up.

  Diana gave him a hard look. “Honestly, Derek, I cannot believe you. Threatening to go through with annulment all because she said the word duty? What nonsense! We all have duties, you know that. No, no,” she said, throwing up a hand at his stammering protests, “I have already said that Father was a bullheaded monstrosity with no sense. We are agreed that he was in bad form. But you! And she! Fighting with each other over something so trite when you ought to be standing together as a united front! Don’t you want to have children, Derek?”

  “Yes, but…”

  “And you do want Kate to be the mother, don’t you?”

  “Of course, I do, but…”

  “Then how dare you insinuate otherwise! She asked you a plain and simple question, one which you should have been more than delighted to respond to, and instead, you made it seem as though you never wanted children merely because our father thinks you should! Really, Derek, where was your head?”

  “I don’t know,” he whispered, leaning forward and putting his head in his hands. “I never meant to say I didn’t want children, I just didn’t want to start our family in response to the duke’s demands.”

  “Then you should have said that,” Diana said, her voice growing kinder. “I know you were worked up and in a rage, but consider; Kate was willing to do whatever it was you wanted. If you wanted to start a family, she was willing. It was her suggestion to prepare for a child. In spite of Father’s cruel words, in spite of her apparent doubt in your affections, she offered to bear you a child. What does that tell you, Derek?”

  He shuddered and gripped at his hair, groaning softly. “I didn’t mean to fight with her, Diana. I don’t know who I became in there, but it couldn’t have been me. What if I have ruined everything?”

  Diana took his hands and forced him to look at her. “Derek, you are one of the very best men that I know. You may have behaved badly, but when the heart is in the middle of things, everybody thinks a little more stupidly.”

  Derek shook his head, unwilling to brush off his behavior so lightly. “I should have thought better, I should have seen… No wonder she fought back, I was hardly reasonable.”

  “I wasn’t going to say anything, but…” Diana said nonchalantly, giving him a half smile.

  He allowed himself a brief roll of his eyes, then sighed. “I just became afraid when she didn’t say anything after my outburst. I wanted her to be shocked, scared, even defiant. I never expected her to be resigned to my decision. I wanted to take it all back and tell her I didn’t mean a word, but I couldn’t. What if she really wants to be rid of me?”

  “Can you really believe that?” Diana asked sadly. “After all that you have been through, after all she has become, all you have become, you really think she doesn’t care about you? You still doubt her?”

  “I don’t want to,” he rasped, shaking his head, a lump forming in his throat. “I don’t want to, but I can’t help it.”

  “Derek?”

  Both Derek and Diana turned at the new voice, and it would have been impossible to say who was more shocked at the sight of the Duchess of Ashcombe standing in the doorway to the drawing room, looking worried. “Mother?” Diana gasped, her cheeks paling a bit. “What are you…? Is Father…?”

  “Oh, no, I am here on my own,” she reassured them hastily, her eyes nervously flicking over to Derek, who had gone still, his jaw tensing. “I… I came to speak with you, Diana, and then I heard Derek, and I…”

  “You heard,” Diana sighed in realization, closing her eyes. “Of course.”

  Derek stood and turned. “Thank you for listening, Diana,” he said curtly, not addressing his mother at all.

  She smiled up at him faintly, her eyes apologetic, and nodded.

  “If you do not mind, Derek, I have a few things to say to you,” their mother said softly.

  “Say them, then,” he snapped, b
arely glancing in her direction. He knew his mother, and though she was kind, she was also loyal to his father. Every decision of his she had stood by without comment. Derek was in no humor to be reminded of his apparent failure, even by his mother.

  “I… I told your father he had gone too far,” Lydia said softly, wringing her hands in an uncharacteristically nervous fashion.

  “Oh, thank you so much, Mother,” Derek drawled sarcastically. “That helps the situation a good deal.”

  Her brows drew together and her mouth became a thin line. “Derek, I have never taken that tone from you and I will not do so now. I am telling you that I disagree with your father emphatically, when have you ever known me to do that?”

  She had a point; his mother had only ever gone along with his father’s words, orders, and wishes, and never in his life had he heard her say anything against him. He sighed and turned to face her. “You’re right, Mother. I apologize.” He shrugged, and said, “As you can see, I have been a bit on edge lately.”

  She smiled sadly and nodded. “I do see that. You have had a difficult couple of days.” Her smile faded, and she began working at her hands again. “But I fear I may have to share some of the blame.” She gestured for him to sit back down and she took the seat next to Diana on the sofa. “As you may remember, I took Katherine…”

  “Kate,” both Derek and Diana interrupted, which was simply not done in their family.

  Lydia looked at them both in bewilderment.

  “It’s important,” Diana murmured, looking over at Derek’s tormented expression.

  “Very well, then,” Lydia said slowly, her mouth twisting as if her tongue were testing out the abbreviation, and she was not certain if she liked it. “I took Kate out to the back garden to avoid overhearing you and your father.”

  “I recall,” Derek replied, waving for her to go on. “Thank you for that.” It would have been horrifying to have Kate hear everything that had been said. He had not told her everything that had been said and he never would.

  She nodded briefly. “Before we went out there, I said… well, I may have said something that affected her response to you.”

  Derek felt his insides freeze. “What did you say, Mother?”

  “Well, if I can recollect clearly,” she said hesitantly, looking away.

  “You can,” her children insisted firmly, both fully aware that she had always had perfect recollection of everything she had said.

  “I believe I said, ‘If you do anything to jeopardize him, his reputation, or this family, I will see you ruined’.”

  For a long moment, the room was silent. And then Diana breathed, “Mother!”

  Lydia dropped her head, grimacing.

  “Why would you say something like that?” Derek managed, his voice weak.

  “Because it is true,” she told him, her eyes bright with unshed tears and filled with earnestness. “You and your sister and your brother, this family means everything to me. And to your father. She had a right to know where we stand.”

  “But Kate is already part of the family!” Derek cried, his voice stronger. “She has been a part of this family for five years, Mother! You have known nothing but prosperity and respect and dignity from our part, and it is mostly because of her! I have had very little to do with any of it, believe me. If anybody is going to jeopardize this family, it is more likely to be me than it ever would be her. Leave my wife out of it!”

  “So you do love her, then,” Lydia said softly, her eyes warm in spite of her sorrowful expression.

  “Of course, I love her!” He shot to his feet and rubbed a hand through his hair. “I love her so much I am fairly sick with it!”

  “Then do not let her go, Derek,” she urged. “You need her.”

  “I know, Mother,” he said as he turned from the room. “Believe me, I know.”

  “I am sorry, Derek,” she called, her voice shaking.

  He stopped, glancing back at her. His mother had never apologized to him either. The woman who was normally so proud and regal and refined now was humble and penitent and… motherly. She had always been kind, but never open. Now here she was urging him to go back to Kate, to hold on to her, to become a family with her. He had never known his mother to be like this.

  Perhaps there was hope for his family after all.

  “I am so sorry,” she said again. “For all of it.”

  He nodded, swallowing back yet another lump. “Thank you. Good day, Mother. Diana.” He walked out the door without responses, and headed for home. He had business to take care of today, which could not wait, and it would take some time. But after that, he was going to get his wife back.

  No matter what it took.

  As quietly as he could, he reentered the house, now wide awake and bustling as usual. While he desperately wanted to mend his situation with Kate, he could not do so now. He needed time to think, to collect himself, to find exactly the right words to say to her. And time to be with her, which he did not have now. He had to meet with solicitors on important estate matters he had put off for far too long, and then his friends later in the day, and all of that would undoubtedly last well into the evening.

  Thankfully, nobody said anything as he quietly and quickly made his way up to his bedchamber. He changed into more proper attire, then came down again a few moments later and moved to his study, needing to gather the necessary information.

  Kate would no doubt think him out with the other men in the garden this morning, so she would not be looking for him within the house. He had urged the men to continue with their plans, under the watchful eye of Mr. Tanner, the man he had consulted as to the design. He had no doubt things would move along smoothly without him present.

  At last, he had all that he needed for his meetings, and he walked out of his office towards the entryway. But as he walked by the music room, its door shut as usual, he heard music coming from within and he was powerless to resist the pull of it. He stopped and stood like a fool outside of the door, listening intently to the mournful music his wife was playing.

  His heart caught as he recognized the melody. It was the song he had been humming ever since they had danced in the gazebo, the song he had hummed as he danced with her. She had turned it into a real song, had added harmonies and life to what he had so sporadically created.

  Her words to him echoed in his mind then. Perhaps you ought to come home unexpectedly, then. Was this what she had been working on while he was out? Had she turned his random humming into a composition?

  Moaning softly in his own tormented agony, Derek leaned his head against the door, listening with more intensity than he had anything in his life. He wished he had the strength to go in and listen fully, to be there with her as she played, to watch her face as she did so. It was his favorite thing to do; not that he didn’t love the music, but he adored watching her face as she played. She became transformed, moved by the music, put everything of herself into each and every note, and it was beautiful and captivating. He missed that.

  He missed her.

  “That is your song, Derek.”

  He turned his head at the soft, barely audible voice and saw Moira, obviously just arrived, watching him with a pitying look in her eyes. “What?” he mouthed more than said, though some sound escaped.

  “She wrote that for you. She has been playing it ever since she finished.” She looked at the door sadly. “It’s all she plays anymore.”

  He grimaced as if struck and shut his eyes tightly, returning his head to his previous position. “I had no idea,” he breathed. “I couldn’t have…”

  Against her nature, Moira did not respond.

  Derek longed to stay, to take Kate into his arms and beg for forgiveness. But he could not, not yet. “I have to go,” he said softly. “Don’t tell Kate I was here. Don’t tell her I heard.”

  “But…”

  “Ask her to wait up for me tonight,” he overrode, pushing his head away from the door, but keeping his hand firmly against it. “T
ell her I want to talk with her. Tell her… ask her to wait for me. Please.”

  Moira looked at him for a long moment, then nodded once.

  “Thank you,” he murmured. He looked back at the door, heard the faint strains of music die away, and sighed. Then he dropped his hand and walked on towards the entryway, head down, brushing past Moira without acknowledgement.

  Tonight he would tell Kate everything, try to mend what had been broken, and beg her to start again with him. He needed her, and he could only pray she needed him, too. There was no hope for them apart.

  Chapter Twenty One

  “He’s not listening to a word we’re saying.”

  “He’s not drunk, he hasn’t touched a thing.”

  “Is he breathing?”

  “He looks ill. Maybe he’s ill.”

  “He is not ill. He’s in love.”

  “…So he’s ill.”

  “No, Colin, he is not.”

  “Shut up, Nate. Derek’s all peaky and sighing and hasn’t said a word in two hours, and my late Aunt Agatha would be able to see the dark circles around his eyes. The man is deathly ill, I tell you.”

  “I am fine,” Derek murmured, shaking his head, his eyes not seeing anything, least of all his friends at the table with him.

  “He speaks!” Duncan cried, slapping him on the back. “We were afraid you had drifted off into some other realm and we had lost you forever.”

  He tried for a smile, but it was hard to come by.

  The last several hours he had been occupied with business, but sitting here now, as he should have been listening to details of some ridiculous venture Colin had heard about, he could not remember a single facet of anything he had discussed with anyone today. He felt as though his entire day had been nothing but a fog, with one bright, shining moment of glory that came in the form of a song written for him by the woman he adored.

  And he was sitting here with his friends while she waited for him at home. What had been so pressing today that he could not have done tomorrow or the next day? Why had duty come before his wife again? Before his heart? That was quite enough of that.