Terri Brisbin by The Duchesss Next Husband

more about Miranda during that meal than he had in years. She served on many of Mrs. Grayson’s committees and endeavors to help the people of the village. She spent most of her time while here in the country on those tasks. She preferred to be here rather than in London. Not only did she play billiards, but she favored several card games as well as fishing in the lakes and streams of Windmere Park.
    With Miranda seated next to him rather than across, he took an opportunity when Parker and the rector were discussing something of interest to both of them, and leaned over to speak quietly to her.
    “I cannot imagine that my mother knows about your proclivity for fishing and billiards.”
    Miranda paled a bit at his words. “I do not believethat she does. I try to keep certain facets of my life out of her view.”
    “Still critical, then?” he asked.
    “Always.”
    Miranda began to turn back to her food when he asked another question. “Then why do you visit her each week? Surely you do not enjoy being in her company?” He knew of no one, from his long deceased father to the now highly touted Miss Stevenson, who could tolerate his mother’s overwhelming ways.
    “It is one of the duties I carry out as Duchess of Windmere. She has invited me for a weekly appointment and I attend. Like so many other obligations, not one of my choosing, but mine nonetheless.”
    In other words, no matter how unpleasant or odious the duty, she would strive to hold up her end of the bargain. He had never thought about what she had been going through these last years as he’d been learning and taking over the reins of one of the largest and now most profitable estates in England. With each passing week and month, she’d seemed more self-assured and busy, so he’d never pursued any explanation. His mother had confirmed that Miranda was applying herself to the tasks facing her.
    He leaned back in his chair and continued eating, although he would never be able to identify any of the foods he put in his mouth. He could only suspect that this change within him was brought about by the knowledge of his impending death. If he had not been forcedto examine his conscience and his life, he would never have comprehended how Miranda’s own life was so different for her.
    She would have gone on, fulfilling her duties, attending to the call of his mother, living a separate life, and he would have been completely unaware.
    And now? Now that changes to their lives, to their marriage even, would matter not? Was it fair to her to let her go on believing that she would continue as duchess?
    “Now it is Windmere’s turn to look ill.”
    Parker’s voice broke into Adrian’s reverie. “Me? Do I look ill?” He tried to shake off the discomfort his friend’s perusal had caused. “I am well.”
    “The duchess did the same thing last evening. Turned pea-green and looked like she would topple into her soup bowl.” Parker then grimaced at the words he’d chosen and nodded to Miranda. “Beg your pardon, madam, but you did.”
    “I assure you all that I am well, and I thank you for your concern. Now, if everyone is finished, shall we move to the drawing room for dessert and coffee? Or tea if the ladies wish?” Adrian stood. “I suspect that Parker will need something more fortifying to prepare him for his challenge.”
    The rector laughed. “I do not approve, as a whole, of games of chance, but having seen the duchess’s abilities firsthand, I shall look on this as a defense of honor.”
    Parker appeared irritated now.
    The Graysons, claiming the lateness of the hour andthe journey back to their home, took their leave before the announced match, so Adrian found himself once more to the side, watching his wife. She moved gracefully around the billiard table, sighting and lining up her shots and leaning over to shoot. He found himself watching the arch of her neck, the curve of her hips and the way she blew out of her pursed lips to move the single curl