Page 84 of The Duke's Sinful Deal
She drew in a quiet breath. “Now, I am still inclined to believe it was the correct one. Though I can understand why it would not appear so to anyone else.”
Maxwell nodded once. “That is a fair assessment.”
There was no argument in it, no attempt to persuade her otherwise. Only acknowledgment.
“It will invite scrutiny,” he added after a moment.
Arabella gave a small, rueful smile. “That is a polite way of putting it.”
“It is an accurate one,” he said.
She let out a breath, her shoulders easing slightly as she leaned back once more. “I had hoped we might avoid it for a little while longer.”
“That was unlikely,” he replied.
“I know.”
The honesty of it did not sting as it might have earlier. It felt, instead, like something solid to stand on.
“She will invite us,” Arabella said after a moment, her gaze drifting toward the window as though she could already see the future unfolding there. “Eleanor. She will not leave it as it is.”
“No,” Maxwell agreed. “She will not.”
Arabella’s fingers stilled in her lap. “And there will be others. James, of course. Gwen. Victor. Roderick.” She glanced back athim. “All of them watching. All of them wondering what sort of marriage we have entered into.”
Maxwell did not look away. “Then we will show them.”
The simplicity of the answer caught her off guard.
“You say that as though it is easily done.”
“It is not easily done,” he said. “But it is done all the same.”
Arabella studied him for a moment, searching for the reassurance she might have expected and not finding it. What she found instead was steadiness. Not comfort offered to soothe, but certainty offered to rely upon.
“And you will not object to it?” she asked. “To being… observed in such a manner?”
“I have been observed before,” he said.
“That is not the same.”
“No,” he agreed. “It is not.”
A pause followed, though it did not break the rhythm of the conversation.
“I will stand beside you,” he said then, his tone unchanged, though the weight of it settled more firmly this time. “That is the only thing that matters.”
Arabella felt something in her chest shift at that, subtle but unmistakable.
“You make it sound very simple,” she said, though her voice had softened.
“It is simple,” he replied. “It is not necessarily easy.”
She let out a quiet breath, the tension in her shoulders easing by degrees. “No,” she said. “I suppose it is not.”
The room settled around them then, the earlier strain giving way to something quieter, more deliberate. Arabella became aware of the way the light had shifted as the afternoon waned, the soft glow from the fire catching at the edges of the room.
“I am glad you were here,” she said after a moment, the words spoken without overthinking them.
