Page 61 of The Duchess He Couldn’t Resist

“A greenhouse. That actually sounds lovely.”

Marigold looked at him with a little frown. He never asked about her daily schedule.

“Yes, the greenhouse.” She decided to play along and not miss the chance. “It is rather costly, though.”

“It still surprises me that you fail to understand that you have almost inexhaustible funds at your disposal.”

“First of all, Your Grace,” Marigold replied, “no funds are inexhaustible. And the second thing is, having inexhaustible funds is not a reason to waste them.”

“Yet that is the thing that my friends warned me about—not to marry someone who would squander my wealth.”

“It seems that you have avoided that calamity.”

“I may yet have to face others.” Brandon let the innuendo hang.

“And what are your plans for the day? Will you be back for dinner?” Marigold cleared her throat.

Brandon coughed and drank his coffee. Marigold frowned because he seemed almost awkward.

“I have no plans for the day, and I will stay in. Work from the study. The weather is splendid. We could have lunch outside.”

Marigold’s teacup was left mid-air as she was coming to terms with what Brandon had just told her. He never stayed the whole day, and they certainly never had lunch together.

“I will instruct the kitchen accordingly.” She couldn’t find another proper response.

Brandon seemed to enjoy her confusion, and with a smug smile, he folded the paper, left it on the table, drained his cup, and got up.

“Should you need any help or a second opinion on the greenhouse,” Brandon leaned over her chair, “feel free to knock on my door.”

Marigold felt her skin react to his low voice so close to her, and she was already planning the perfect moment to ask for his expert opinion on greenhouses when the door opened, and voices echoed through the entrance hall.

Marigold instantly recognized one warm voice, but he was not alone. There was a higher, sharper voice that Marigold could not recognize but could tell came from a girl. Owen appeared at the doorway, unrepentant and charming as always.

“Your Graces!” he said with a deep bow. “Did we just interrupt something?”

Brandon straightened his body, a little annoyed by the invasion, but his look softened when a woman emerged behind Owen. Marigold could instantly tell that this was none other than Owen’s sister. They were practically identical.

“I brought a guest,” Owen announced.

“Lily!” Brandon nodded to the newcomer. “You just saved your brother’s life.”

“That seems to be my life’s mission,” the young lady replied.

Marigold studied the young woman stepping into the room. She was perhaps a little younger than her, her hair braided elegantly on her head, with sharp, intelligent eyes that scanned the room and landed on her.

“Lily,” Brandon said and placed a hand on Marigold’s waist, “this is my wife, Marigold.”

“Your Grace.” Lily curtsied just a little. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you. My brother told me absolutely nothing useful, so I had to come here myself to satisfy my curiosity.”

Marigold smiled and decided that she already liked this young lady.

“Would you care for tea?”

Lily nodded, and Marigold led her to the little drawing room next door. She was surprised to see that both men accompanied them. Lily settled elegantly on the sofa, and Marigold sat on the other side of it. She noticed that Brandon sat in the same chair as he did on the first time they met, and she realized that he had his usual spot in a familiar place.

“Your Grace, if I may⁠—”

“It would please me very much if you addressed me as Marigold.”