The duke raised a brow. “A second marriage is not lesser than the first. It takes courage to consider such a change, but I really had nothing to lose. I fell in love again quite painlessly, I assure you.”
Adam smiled at the way the duke described the upheaval of taking on a wife. The arguments, the compromises that must be made. Not all marriages were peacefully lived. “I always thought marriage was about finding someone you wanted to annoy for the rest of your life.”
The duke roared with laughter and gestured to the back of the manor, instead of the library. “That’s a unique way of putting it.”
Adam rubbed his jaw. The duke had married his daughter’s companion, Mrs. Gillian Thorpe, after more than half a year of knowing each other. Her grace had no fortune or exalted connections to speak of at the time. If she hadn’t been employed here, the pair might never have met or married. There had to be a reason behind his sudden decision to remarry. “Proximity, I suppose, helped with your pursuit.”
The duke smiled, a hint of roguish victory in his expression. “Of course. How else can a man in want of a wife capture her attention if he is never near her?”
The chase was often half the fun but the reward was always sweet. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“It did help that we had something of mutual interest to talk about from the start.”
“Such as?”
“My daughter.”
Adam laughed softly. “I happen to have one of those. She could do with some mothering too, I suspect.”
“I’ll give you only one piece of advice about making a second marriage. Make sure your daughter likes the lady you mean to give your heart to. When they don’t, it causes uncomfortable friction in the family.”
He had suspected he might need Ava’s approval, and it was a reason he was hesitant to begin a search. Finding a woman who pleased both him and his family was no small feat. A favorite aunt of his had refused to speak to him from the day of his first marriage until his late wife had been buried. In the duke’s case, Adam had a fair idea where the friction in the family most likely stemmed from. “You’re speaking of Mrs. Warner.”
“Why do you say that?”
“It’s hard to miss the way the pair never speak to each other. Definitely frosty when they are in the same room.”
The duke scowled darkly. “Rebecca dislikes change.”
Adam had actually understood Rebecca’s reaction to the marriage because, at first, Adam had wondered at the wisdom of the duke’s choice, too. However, having spent more time with the couple, Adam saw little wrong in the match now. The new duchess was more timid than the last but always extremely courteous to all. She very obviously loved her second husband—which really was all that should matter in the end. Keeping that love, having it outlast the first blissful year, was never easy though.
“She’ll come around.”
“Rebecca and Fanny didn’t speak for two years when they married. I have little hope for a speedy acceptance in my case. Rebecca idolized her mother.”
Adam raised a brow in surprise, but they were at a doorway to a small, cozy drawing room behind the main staircase, and he held his tongue. He moved inside, eager to write his letter summoning his only child to join him for the party to come.
“You should have everything you need in this room,” the duke promised. “I’m sure my daughter will not mind sharing under the circumstances.”
Adam froze, one hand inches away from the catch on the writing desk. “Which daughter am I sharing the room with?”
“This is the room Rebecca prefers to use, but I’m positive she’s occupied elsewhere right now. She probably won’t notice.”
She probably would. Adam kept his suspicions to himself as he bid the duke goodbye.
Adam wrote a brief letter to his daughter and advised her to pack her best gowns for the house party. Once his message was drafted, he sealed the letter with the blue wax he found in the desk and waved it about until dry. As he waited, he noted a small collection of papers to one side of the writing desk.
Curious, he pulled one sheet toward him and found a list of expenses, meticulously kept in such spidery script that he had to squint to read. The pages reminded him of the shock of tallying his late wife’s spending each quarter. He did not miss those arguments, or her attempts at evasion when he’d politely asked her not to bankrupt the estate for the sake of impressing her friends and family.
He put the sheet back as he found it and rose to his feet.
“I thought you were resting?” Rebecca asked suddenly.
He stilled and then turned around. “I still am. But I desired a change of scenery.”
“The best views are out the windows.” She looked behind him to the desk, one brow rising. “What are you doing there?”
“I needed to write a letter.”