Page 36 of The Duchess He Couldn’t Resist

There was a strange mixture that she saw brewing in the Duke’s face. Part of it was what she expected, which was genuine surprise at her request, but the other seemed bothered and irritated.

“It’s just a small part of the garden. It’s at the far edge behind the hedges. It’s not being used for anything,” Marigold hastened to defend her request.

The Duke seemed to be slightly angry at her, as if he didn’t quite understand the question.

“Perhaps it is not very clear to you that the whole garden is yours, Your Grace,” he said in his low, dark voice.

“I am aware. What I am requesting is a little, maybe radical, because I want to uproot the whole area and create a vegetable garden.”

“A vegetable garden?”

“Yes, nothing fancy, just potatoes and cabbages and peas of course, and it would be great if I could fit in some spinach because fresh spinach is simply a delicacy.”

The Duke opened his mouth in disbelief.

“I realize,” Marigold cut him off, anxious to get her request heard, “we do not actually need a vegetable garden. There is no shortage of food of course. But it is something always good to have, and nothing tastes better than fresh produce. And to have them from your own soil? The taste is simply superb. And truth be told, I miss gardening. I had a garden at Cove Manor, and it was the only thing that was entirely mine there, and I know I do not need it here as I said, but I would like it. I promise, just a small corner. I would not let it become unsightly. I would keep it neat and orderly, and you won’t even notice it unless you were looking for it, and…”

Marigold noticed that the Duke had stopped eating. He had laid his cutlery down, placed one elbow on the table, propped his chin on his hand, and he was simply looking at her. It wasn’t that his look didn’t have that cold expression, but there was something else underneath.

“I’m babbling,” Marigold said.

“You are,” the Duke confirmed.

“So, as I was saying, a small patch of land.”

The Duke nodded and looked at her very seriously. Was he going to deny her this small favor? Was he still that angry with her?

“You do realize you’re the Duchess of this estate?”

“I do.”

“And have you taken into consideration that you could demolish half the house if you wanted to?”

“I should find that quite extreme. I do not wish to demolish the house.”

“Yes, perhaps not the whole house,” he continued. “You could keep a room or two to live in, and the kitchen preferably. I am quite partial to hot meals.”

“Do not be unreasonable. We can always cook in the fireplace,” Marigold dared.

“Yes, I believe that could be managed,” the Duke said with a little glint in his eyes.

“Or,” Marigold continued, “I could just use that corner of the garden.”

The Duke looked at her for a long moment. And then a sound filled the empty dining hall. Unexpected and astonishing, rare and unbelievable. The Duke was laughing. Not that cold, dismissive laugh that she had heard. This laughter was genuine, warm.

Marigold watched in bewilderment as that laughter transformed his whole face into boyish mischief. She was painfully aware that the Duke was impressively attractive. But to see him smile like this? It was magnetic.

“Take your corner, and uproot it, and do whatever you want with it,” he said in between bouts of laughter.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” she said with a lift in her voice.

That made him turn and look at her. And when he saw the way she was regarding him, when it finally dawned on him that he had actually allowed a genuine human emotion to be displayed in front of others, and especially her, he clammed up.

The smile dropped, and the light in his eyes was put out. His jaw tightened. It was as if Marigold watched it happen in real time. He closed himself off, raised the walls one by one, and latched every window. And there he was, the cold, distant Duke again.

He drew the towel from his lap and threw it on the table, not angrily, just dismissively.

“If there’s nothing else,” his voice was flat, “I have some business to attend to before bed.”