Her Secondhand Groom by Rose Gordon

had been truth and what hadn’t. Something was off. It had to be. There was a reason she’d been so bent on talking to him that morning he’d come to her cottage. But why?
    Marcus sighed and shifted in his seat. “Is this what you’d want for one of your daughters?”
    “ What’s that to mean?” Patrick forced a brittle smile to his lips to cover for the rudeness of his tone.
    “ Would you like to give your daughter in marriage to a man who saw her as nothing more than a glorified servant?”
    “ That’s not how I see her,” Patrick ground out. “I don’t know why you still think she got the bad end of the bargain. I gave her my name, my title, my house, my wealth. Anything a woman could ever want I gave her.”
    “ What about your love?”
    Patrick’s brown eyes flew to his friend. Was the man insane? He couldn’t give her that even if he wanted to. All of his romantic love had died with Abigail, whether she’d wanted it or not. “No. Nor does she require it. I’ve given her all she requires. Besides, just because you married for love, doesn’t mean others need to.”
    “ But you did once,” Marcus pointed out, stretching his leg out in front of him.
    “ You’re right,” Patrick conceded softly. He tried to swallow the giant lump that was now lodged in his throat. He’d loved Abigail more than anyone. He’d never find love again and that suited him just fine. At least he had it for a few short years. But just because he’d once had it, didn’t mean everyone else needed a love match to survive. That included Juliet. She’d have everything she’d need to have a good life. A love match wasn’t essential. What’s more, love was a very complex emotion―one that made someone yearn to know everything about the other, but also blocked their imperfections like a veil and― He started. An image of the thick veil Juliet wore this morning at their wedding flashed in his mind. “Damn her lying hide!” She knew!
    Heedless to the fact his friend was attempting to reprimand him further, Patrick charged from the room, determined to find his wife. She just better pray there were witnesses in the room or he’d throttle her.
    “ Juliet!” he bellowed fifteen minutes later as he swung open the door to the nursery.
    Ten shocked eyes and five O-shaped mouths greeted him.
    Juliet forced a smile to her face. “Do you require something?” she asked, shaking out the skirts of her pale purple dress.
    Patrick glanced at his children who were so stunned they still hadn’t gone back to their lessons. His eyes found Emma. She also looked too stunned to take her wide, green eyes off him. “I need a moment alone with Juliet,” he said as calmly as he could. It was hard for a man to remain civil when his blood was boiling in his veins.
    Juliet didn’t budge from her spot. “Anything you have to say to me, you can say here. Unless you’re afraid of making a fool of yourself again, that is.”
    He ignored her barb. “Madam, I’m warning you. If you don’t wish to be embarrassed, I strongly suggest you step into the hall with me right now.”
    The infuriating woman had the nerve to readjust her spectacles then incline her chin and cross her arms. With all this activity, she didn’t so much as move her foot a quarter of an inch toward the door.
    If she thought he’d change his course just because others were present, she had a few things to learn about him. “Have it your way then, but don’t forget I warned you.”
    “ And so did I,” she countered primly, the triumphant smile on her face unmistakable.
    “ I demand to know your motives, madam.” Patrick crossed his arms and impaled her with his eyes.
    Her smile didn’t slip in the least. “And I, yours.”
    “ What the devil are you talking about?”
    Juliet’s bespectacled eyes didn’t waver. Instead they held his gaze, boring into his with an intensity that bordered on making him uncomfortable. “Tell me, Lord Presumptuous, just what exactly does