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

seemed fit for a king.
    After the meal, Fiona sat with the women in
the green salon, rather pleased her first foray into the
aristocracy had gone well. Until Robert entered the room. His
sisters jumped from their chairs, kissed him with congratulations,
and berated him on keeping such a secret from them. His eyes locked
on Fiona.
    “If you will excuse us, I wish to speak with
my wife,” he said in a tone that allowed no argument.
    Fiona rose slowly. He was not pleased.
    In the hall, he took her elbow and demanded
in a whisper, “Where were you this morning? I told you not to leave
this house until you had spoken to my mother.”
    “Your mother was still abed when I decided I
needed a walk. Forgive me, my lord, but I am not a prisoner here. I
shall come and go as I please.” She shook off his grasp.
    His voice rose. “You will inform Edwards
where you are going from now on, and you will take your maid with
you. It is unseemly for a duchess in your position to be seen
walking about Town like a common fruit-seller.”
    “This is why I made sure to change my gown
before I left. I was unrecognizable as you so convincingly told me
last night before dinner.”
    Robert seemed taken aback, but did not deter
from his position. “Women in our society do not go for walks. They are seen at lunches, or parties, or balls. They are always
escorted and if they do walk, they do so at the fashionable hour,
not half-seven in the morning.”
    “I like walking in the early
mornings,” Fiona said, her voice rising in tone to match his. “I
did so every day in Scotland and find the exercise agreeable.”
    “You are not in Scotland any longer,”
he yelled. “ Ladies do not walk for exercise.”
    “Well, as you decidedly have no care to treat
me as such,” she yelled back, “I shall walk whenever I bloody well
please.” With that, Fiona turned and ran up the stairs to her room.
She slammed the door not caring if the whole house heard. Tears of
frustration erupted and she threw herself across the bed. She
wanted to go home where she could walk in the fields whenever she
wanted, lie in the hay, look at the sky, and listen to her sheep.
She yearned to live simply, the way she had for so long and not
have to learn rules about which fork to use, which gown to wear, or
when it was proper to walk, of all things.
    Fiona’s only desire that last night at Castle
Cornnan was to keep the silly sot from killing himself. She wiped
her tear streaked face with the back of her hand. “I should have
let him choke,” she said to the empty room.

Chapter Eight
     
     
    Robert listened as his wife’s footsteps beat
a staccato on the stairs and the door to her chamber slammed.
Immediately, he wished he could take back his words. He had never
raised his voice in anger to a woman in the whole of his life. He
turned to head to his study and found his mother and sisters
staring open-mouthed at him from the doorway.
    The look in his mother’s eye nearly broke his
heart. He about-faced, strode up the hall, and out the front
door.
    Good Night! What was it about Fiona that had
him raving like a lunatic? Of course, she could walk when she
pleased. How stupid of him to forbid it. She was raised in
Scotland, not some foreign outland. What had he been thinking? That
was the problem, he wasn’t thinking. He hadn’t been thinking
clearly since he had first seen her in her new gown last night at
supper. What was it about Fiona that had him wanting to keep her
behind closed doors? Surely, she would never embarrass him in
public, it wasn’t in her nature. She was a steady girl, he knew
that from their travels. He needed to understand his reasoning and
he had no idea how. His analytical mind was in a whirl with
emotions he hadn’t felt in a very long time. And he didn’t like it,
not one bit.
    Robert followed the streets through Mayfair
until he reached his club. He usually didn’t arrive before
luncheon, however, this was not the day to remain at home.
    “Your