The Duke's Divorce (The Reluctant Grooms Series Volume IV) by Anne Gallagher Page A

disturbed her and she slowly opened
her eyes. Still dark, she found Robert staring at her.
    “You are beautiful. You do know that, do you
not?” His voice rang heavily. Was he sossed again?
    “Thank you, my lord.” Fiona reached for the
covers and drew them up to her chest. He might be her husband, but
their mutual agreement would be preserved. He said he did not want
to bed her, so why was he in her room?
    Robert sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Forgive me for this evening. It seems my friends felt neglected
and wanted to congratulate me further. My mother would not
understand.”
    “Of course, my lord.” Fiona inched her way to
a sitting position.
    He took up her hand and patted it. “I think
you and I will do nicely, once I get used to the idea of being
married. ‘Tis a hard thing for a man to acknowledge his wife when
one has been so long in the single state.”
    Fiona nodded. “I understand.”
    “No, I do not think you do. But perhaps you
will. I wish to tell you, Fiona, that I do like you, very much, in
fact. However, I do not love you and I’m afraid there is nothing
for it.”
    “Yes, you said that on our wedding day.”
Fiona wondered why he felt the need to bring it up again. She
wasn’t a simpleton.
    Robert snorted. “Our wedding day. Both of us
held at gunpoint by your damnable father. ‘Twas no wedding, Fiona.
Not any that I have ever seen before.”
    He patted her hand again. “Fiona, I wish we
had met under better circumstances. I think our lives would be
altogether changed.”
    “What circumstances would have changed them?”
Fiona asked.
    “Well, if you had come to Town, and we met
the usual way through an introduction at a ball or by mutual
acquaintance. We could have gotten to know one another in a
different light, instead of being thrust together in this farce of
a marriage.”
    Fiona let his words sink in. “Perhaps we
could get to know each other now, my lord?”
    Robert didn’t speak. He rose from the bed and
walked to the door that separated their rooms. Turning to her, he
said softly, “Good night, Fiona.”
    *****
    Robert closed the door to his bedchamber. Had
Fiona just issued him an invitation to join her in bed? Surely not.
Robert removed his rumpled clothing and left them on the chair for
his valet. He never should have gone into her bedchamber. What was
he thinking? Nothing at all, it seemed. His friends had wished him
well with toast after toast. He’d pretended to drink with them, but
stopped after three glasses. He knew his limits with alcohol very
well. His head was muddled, but not so much that he wouldn’t be up
at the break of dawn on the morrow. He couldn’t say the same for
any of his comrades.
    Upon returning home, as he walked down the
corridor to his rooms, Robert had wondered if Fiona had taken
quarter in the duchess’ chamber. His mother had occupied the rooms
for a time after his father passed, but left them due to her
memories there. She said she couldn’t face the fact her husband was
not on the other side of the door any longer, so retreated to the
east side of the house and had a suite of rooms that overlooked the
gardens. Robert had not wanted to move into his father’s bedroom,
but his mother convinced him it was his place, and after a time, he
felt comforted by his father’s presence. He could still smell his
father’s scent when he opened the mahogany armoire.
    Opening the door to his mother’s old room,
Robert fully expected to find it empty. It dawned on him that of
course, Fiona would chamber there. She was his wife, the duchess.
His mother would never allow whispers from the servants.
    Robert had stared at the sleeping woman. He
could not deny her newfound beauty. He hadn’t meant to wake her, he
hadn’t wanted to speak to her. He’d only wanted to know what to do
about her, as if staring at her while she slept would give him
answers.
    Robert sat on the edge of his chair and
stared into the fire. Perhaps he should get to know