Page 80 of The Duchess He Couldn’t Resist

He finally saw Verdant House rise into the skyline of London, and he realized that this might be the first time he had seen this place as a home because he knew that behind those elegant doors was the one person who had managed to make everything better.

The butler was quite surprised to see him enter the house in such a hurry, and Brandon gave him his hat and his gloves while looking around the house.

“Where is Her Grace?” he asked agitatedly.

“She’s usually out in the garden at this hour.”

Brandon made his way through the French doors and went out into his gardens. He knew that Marigold was not just walking around idling, so he made his way to that little patch she had claimed as hers. He smiled at the memory of her asking so cutely for that particular favor. He could give her so much more.

He reached the turn around the hedges and saw her. She was kneeling in the vegetable patch. Her dress was gathered over her thighs with a ribbon so that it wouldn’t bother her, and instead of elegant slippers, she was wearing boots that she had probably ordered to her size. Her hands were covered in soil. A few strands of hair had escaped the pins and curled around her face.

Brandon felt his breath catch just because he was looking at his wife tending to the earth. But how could he not? She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, his heart restricted, unable to process the vision before him.

Right at this moment, Duck, who was lying nearby, yelped and barked happily, getting up to greet him. Marigold looked up. Her face was flushed from the sun. There was a bit of soil on her cheeks—such an undignified sight for a duchess and yet so perfect for her.

“Brandon!”

She smiled at him, getting up to greet him. That smile pierced through all of his doubts and obliterated them like the small particles he could see in the rays of sun that fell upon her. It was a wide, open, unguarded smile that made his chest ache.

“You’re back early,” she said as he came closer.

She tried to clean her face with the back of her hand, making things worse, but he just smiled. She was so beautiful—covered in sun, dirt, sweat, and happiness. Even if he had any doubts, he didn’t anymore.

“I had to see you, Marigold. We need to talk.”

Her smile faltered a little, and she awkwardly dusted her hands off on her skirt, untying the ribbon to let it pool around her legs. Brandon lamented being deprived of that sight. He had half a mind to pull her to him, his hand on the back of her thighs, pushing her against the wall of the shed behind her, turning her insecurity into loud gasps of pleasure.

Yet he reined himself in. Tempting as it was, letting his desire take over, it was not the kind of conversation he wanted to have with her.

“Nothing is wrong. I just needed to talk to you about something.”

“Oh,” Marigold said, still looking apprehensive. “Then let’s go back and allow me some time to clean myself up, and I will come to your study.”

Brandon nodded, and they made their way back through the garden, Duck following close behind, absolutely ecstatic that she had both of them there. He realized as they were walking that his life had changed so much that he found himself enjoying that simple thing, walking with her through the garden, just being close in the sun.

Once inside, she went up to her room, and he made his way to his study. The staff had already put on the fire. Brandon found himself agitated, almost nervous for the first time in many years. But then again, he realized perhaps this was one of the most important things he had done in the past few years.

Not long after, Marigold knocked on his door.

“Please come in,” Brandon said and turned to face her.

Marigold entered, having changed and cleaned up very quickly. And he saw that she looked nervous, her hands twisting, her lips pressed tight.

“Is everything in order?” she asked as she closed the door. “Does this have to do with Johnny?”

It stung a little hearing her think that the only reason he would invite her into his study was to talk about the mission. It showed the damage that he had done, making her feel either an informant or a breeder.

“No, this has nothing to do with Johnny. This is about us,” he said and came close.

“About us?” she said, her voice trembling.

“Yes, Marigold. About us.”

He took one step closer, and his hands were itching to touch her. Truth be told, he was not sure what he was doing or how to convey what he wanted to say. It was true that he was trying muscles that he hadn’t used for a while.

“I just wanted to inform you,” Brandon almost blurted out, “that I want to annul our deal.”

CHAPTER 24