Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

M arina wrinkled her nose when they arrived at the door to his study, but she said nothing for fear that if she teased him too much, he would delay her present even further. He took her by the hand and led her to what she'd previously thought was a window. Sliding the curtain aside and gently undoing the latch to a set of doors, he revealed a large balcony. Marina could not help but think that a small tea could be held there. But there was something more—something beyond the top of the cement railing.

"Come," Phillip insisted, beckoning her to join him. She stepped out, and as she walked up to the rail, she looked out upon the grounds. The garden was directly beneath them, painting a portrait in vivid oil colors. Beyond that, fields of luscious grass, rolling hills, and large, strong trees filled her vision. The thin, pale light of the early morning covered it all like a shimmering veil. As the sun crept up, Marina watched the sky fill with vibrant pinks and oranges. It was like magic. For a while—she had no idea how long—the Duchess stood and watched, her heart full with an emotion she could not name.

It felt a bit like being a part of everything, as if Marina herself were both painted and the subject of this portrait.

"Is it pleasing?" Phillip asked, at long last.

"Certainly," Marina breathed, still transfixed on the scene. "This is gorgeous, Phillip. The view is…it's magnificent."

"It is," he said quietly. She turned, a bright smile illuminating her features, so she could answer him. But his gaze stopped her. Phillip's dark eyes were trained on her, not on the sky or the fields or forest. Not even on the gardens she had worked so hard to create. Her . He was looking at her.

"You're blushing," he added. She reached up and felt her burning cheeks to check that it was true. "You have no idea how happy it makes me that I can bring such beautiful color to those cheeks."

"Phillip," Marina breathed, her voice faint but a warning. As if to tell him to be sure that this is what he wanted. The Duke ignored her, pressing forward until their toes might have touched had they gone out without shoes. A tenderness she had not seen from him softened his features and made her heart pound.

"Marina," was his response, lifting a hand so he could tuck a stray curl back into place behind her ear. She felt that same hand rest upon her waist just as he pressed his lips to hers, and the Duchess fell rapidly into the kiss. It was sweet but not timid. She could feel his longing fall in line with the tempo of her own yearning, and they each had the same realization.

They had been, unknowingly and despite their best efforts, each waiting for this moment.

Marina felt that the kiss lasted both an eternity and less than a second before Phillip pulled away from her, but she was mortified to find that his expression had changed—his emotions once again shut away from her where she could not find them beneath his steely gaze.

"This was not appropriate," he gasped, clasping a hand to his mouth as he hurried to put some distance between the two of them.

"Not appropriate?" Marina begged. She felt that she had had quite enough of this push and pull from Phillip, but he either did not care or did not notice the change in her tone.

"No. Not at all, Marina. Please accept my apologies."

Phillip seemed entirely earnest, but Marina could not fathom what for.

"Phillip, we are husband and wife. There is nothing inappropriate about a kiss." Phillip shook his head, and made his way into the study, forcing Marina to follow behind him.

"There is more to it than that," he hissed. "You cannot understand."

"I want to understand."

"Leave me, Marina. I will find some way to atone for my poor behavior, but you must take your leave at once."

"I will not. I?—"

"You will ." Marina backed away toward the door as if physically pushed in that direction by the tone and volume of his voice. "I have given you an instruction, Marina. Now follow it. We will not speak of this anymore."