Page 14 of The Scarred Lyon

“Yes, Augusta. Even that. Put it behind you. No one outside the family and a couple of others knows about it, so let it stay in your past.”

“I will endeavor to try. My parents paid a substantial sum to arrange this marriage, so I am thankful for that, at least.”

“That is true. They did assist you. The stipend I asked for? That money is yours. I will ensure the amount is set aside for your future use.”

Augusta gasped. “For me?”

“Yes. Rest assured, you and your son will be taken care of in my will. No more worrying about the future.”

Augusta smiled. “Thank you, I am most grateful. Putting the past behind us is sage advice.”

Duncan stared out the window at the passing scenery. “Just about everyone has done something society deems unforgivable, given how judgmental it can be.”

“Have you? Done something society considers unforgivable?” she asked softly.

“Yes. I did not die a hero, nor did I rescue my cousin, the heir to the dukedom. I had the temerity to survive, albeit scarred. And then to ultimately become the duke? Why, I had that planned all along. I allowed my cousin to perish so that I could eventually inherit.”

Augusta appeared astonished. “Society thinks that of you? How terrible!”

Duncan shrugged. “It is easy to ignore malicious chatter when secluded in the country, but it reached my ears, notwithstanding.”

“How did your injury occur?” Augusta asked.

Duncan’s stomach clenched, as it always did when reminded of his injury. It was part of his past, a painful memory he would rather forget. “It is difficult to talk about. I prefer that we discuss it another time,” he said gruffly.

Augusta continued to gaze out the window. “As you wish.”

She looked hurt, and Duncan had not intended that. In a gentler tone, he said, “Please understand that it’s rather traumatic to think about, let alone talk about. Besides, it is our wedding day, and I would like to avoid such a dire subject. I will tell you the tale soon. I promise.”

Augusta smiled again, and the warmth of it caused his heart to skip a beat. What a strange reaction.

“Of course. I am sorry if I seem out of sorts. All this happened so swiftly, I’ve hardly had time to process it. I’m also preoccupied about broaching a delicate subject with you.”

“The marriage consummation?”

Augusta blushed prettily. “That is part of it. Can we wait a few days until we arrive at your country home? I am not being missish. Oh, good heavens. I started my courses this morning.”

Good God. Delicate, indeed.

But, as he said, they were married. Duncan knew next to nothing about it. His stepmother and stepsister had never mentioned it, and why would they? He assumed a husband and wife would discuss it, given the intimacy involved. He recalled that his stepmother had taken to her bed on occasion. “Are you in pain?”

“A slight ache in my temple. I often suffer from cramping, as well. I brought a prodigious amount of willow bark powder, because I do not care for laudanum. My, that was rather personal. But I want us to be straightforward with each other.”

“Just so. I agree. Are you warm enough? There are quilts in the box under my seat.”

“I would like a quilt. And perhaps the chance to rest my eyes for a bit.”

Duncan immediately leaped to his feet, opened the seat, and reached for the rose quilt. He also gathered a small pillow. “Here, lie down.” He handed her the pillow, then gently draped the quilt over her. “Sleep as long as you like.”

Augusta pulled the quilt up to her chin. “Thank you. You are most kind, and you have been, through this entire situation.” She sighed. “I received a reply to my letter yesterday. Miss Barry will be packed and ready by the time the carriage reaches them.”

“I’ll be sending McGloin.”

“The valet at the wedding?”

“I have promoted him to steward, and he will accept the position as soon as we arrive at Bamford Park.”

“Tell me about Bamford Park,” she asked sleepily.