At the first floor, the landlord escorted them to a door, opened it and stood aside. Kendal stepped inside with Lady Thalia, expecting to see two or possibly three ladies. Instead he found six ladies and three gentleman, all of whom he knew from Town, plus four children. With the exception of the Duchess of Hull and her companion, all of the other people were related to Lady Thalia in one form or another, the Duchess of Melbrough being her aunt.
“Kendal.” The Duke of Bolton, a brother-in-law, was holding a tiny child who could not be more than two months old. “Find a seat. The ale is excellent.”
The Marquis of Hawksworth, Lady Thalia’s eldest brother, held the hand of a small child trying to walk, and the Marquis of Markville, another brother-in-law, took another small baby from his wife.
Lady Thalia slid him a look. “I was going to introduce you, but you seem to know everyone.”
“Yes. I have known them all for some time.” Still, despite knowing the gentlemen and their wives, he had not expected to see them here.
“Yesterday was the first time I was able to meet Markville.” Thalia’s perfect pink lips formed a line. “My father allows only Bolton and my sister Laia to visit. Bolton is a very nice man and devoted to my sister. I am glad they were able to marry.”
A story hid behind that remark, Kendal was sure. “I have heard that your father and Hawksworth do not get on.”
“I am not sure there are many people my father likes or who like him.” They were the first harsh words he’d heard from her, but she was right. It must be difficult to have a father like Somerset.
A middle-aged lady with the same silvery tresses as Lady Thalia and her sisters rose and came toward him. “Kendal, I am Catherine Somerset. I am pleased you could join us.” She looked at her daughter. “Thalia, you should make him known to your aunt and sisters.”
“I think he knows Laia and Euphrosyne,” Thalia said.
She cast him a questioning look, and he nodded.
“Do you know my aunt Melbrough as well?”
“Yes.” He smiled. “I have had that pleasure.”
“In that case,” Thalia’s mother said, “come join us for tea.”
What they considered tea looked more like a full meal. Platters filled with meats, cheeses, fruits, and bread were spread out on the table. His stomach growled, and next to him, Lady Thalia chuckled. “It is not nice to make fun of hungry gentlemen.” She glanced at Hawksworth, then back to Kendal. “But we make fun of my brother for his appetite all the time.”
He had heard about her brother’s ravenous hunger. In fact, many of the man’s close friends teased him about it. And he wanted her to be herself with him. In this family, being a duke was not a distinction that made others stand on ceremony. “You might have a point.”
“Come. I shall make it up to you by fixing you a plate.” She drew him to the table. “What do you like most?”
She smiled happily at him, and for some reason his eyes saw only her lips. What did he want most? Other than her? With an effort, he dragged his gaze to the food. “I am quite partial to beef and cheddar.”
He held out a chair for her, and once she had taken her seat, she busied herself piling slices of rare beef and two huge chunks of cheddar cheese on a plate, then added bread and strawberries before handing it to him. “There.”
Kendal doubted any gentleman had ever served her, and that was a great pity. He took a plate. “What would you like?”
Her turquoise eyes widened, and a look of wonder appeared on her face. “Me?”
He nodded. “I did tell you that I am yours to command.”
“So you did.” For a moment, she looked at him as if he were the strangest creature she had ever met, then her eyes twinkled enchantingly. And his breath caught in his chest. “I would like some ham, cheddar cheese, and strawberries.” She lowered her thick lashes. “I am very partial to strawberries.”
He’d never given the fruit much thought. His gardener forced them, and, therefore, they were available whenever Kendal liked. “As am I. I especially like them in tarts.”
“Mmmm.” She sighed. “Strawberry tarts are lovely. I used to think our cook made the best ones, but my aunt’s cook does something special to them, and I like her tarts even better.”
He wished he could take her to his estate in Kent and let her eat all the berries she wanted. But now he needed to work out a way to be invited to dinner at her aunt’s house. They must have a property in the area. He had to spend more time with her. “I would love to taste them sometime.”
She daintily cut a bit of ham and ate it. “I shall ask her to invite you.”
Kendal made a sandwich of some of his beef and cheddar. “Do you see any mustard?”
“Oh, yes.” She plucked a small earthenware container from her other side. “Here it is.”
Taking the jar, he dipped in a spoon and spread the mustard on his beef. “How long will you be here?”
“At least until the beginning of July.” Her forehead creased, and Kendal wanted to smooth the lines away. “Then I do not know what will happen.” She took another piece of meat and chewed thoughtfully, then shook her head. “What do you think of the birth of Princess Alexandrina?”
“I hope she lives.” The royal family had had a great deal of bad luck when it came to legitimate children.
Lady Thalia’s brows puckered. “I do as well. I hope there are others.”
“That would be a good thing for all of us.” He cut a piece of beef. “I am concerned about the unrest around the country.”
“I agree.” She eyed the strawberries, but stabbed another piece of ham with her fork. She was very disciplined for a younger lady. “The accounts are not comforting. There is too much poverty and hunger. The Corn Laws were a mistake. Reform must be passed or there is going to be a lot of trouble.”
That she knew about the plight of the poor was surprising. That she supported reform pleased him to no end. “You are well informed.”
She gave him a small smile. “Despite how close I have been kept, I am allowed to read. Once my father is done with the papers, they are sent to my mother’s rooms. She and I review them, and we discuss the events. I have a great deal of time to think as well.”
“What does your father think of that?” Kendal could not imagine her father would approve.
“I do not believe he knows. Or is interested in knowing. His apartments are on the other side of the castle.”
The noise of the others in the parlor became a low drone, like the buzzing of bees, as Kendal gazed at Lady Thalia and decided he had to get to know her much, much better indeed.
CHAPTER 3
THALIA WAS happy and terrified at the same time. She and Kendal were in the middle of her family talking as if they were the only two people in the room, and everyone had been letting let them do it. Her mother was in a deep conversation with the duchess, and her brother and sisters and their spouses were playing with the children. No one was paying any attention to her and Kendal at all.
“Do you ever dream of traveling?” he asked.
She dreamed of everything, and right now this man was making her want to dream of even more. “I dream of being able to visit my other brothers and their wives . . . well, except that I do not know if I would like to cross the ocean. Frank, my second-eldest brother, lives in America with his wife and her family.”
Kendal leaned forward excitedly. “Did you know a steamship is crossing the ocean as we speak? It might even have made port by now.” His eyes gazed off into the distance. “Someday ships will cross in a matter of days as opposed to weeks.”
That would be wonderful. “If that happens, I shall visit.” One of the servants brought tea, and she poured him a cup. “Milk and sugar?”
“A bit of both, please.” She handed him the cup, and he took a drink. “Excellent. Thank you.”
“Do you have brothers and sisters?” Suddenly it was important to know everything about him.
“I have two older sisters. They are both married with their own lives and children.” He grinned. “My oldest nephew is a year older than I am and married last year.”
“Who is he?” She might not have met anyone, but she had practically memorized Debrett’s. And she might have read about the wedding in the paper.
“The Marquis of Quorndon.”
“I read about it. Did he not wed about the same time as Earl Elliott?”
“Yes.” Kendal grinned again. He seemed like a very good-natured gentleman. “As a matter of fact, it was Elliott’s wife who introduced Quorndon to his wife.”
She tried not to feel jealous over the freedom other ladies had. “That was nice of her.”
“My aunt certainly thinks so. She had almost given up hope that he’d find the right match.” Kendal ate the rest of his beef and moved on to the cheese.
Thalia still had more food than she should have on her plate. They had been talking so much, she’d forgotten to eat. They sat in comfortable silence while they devoted themselves to their plates. Then she picked up a strawberry, bit into it, and quickly brought up a finger to stop the juice from running down her chin. Kendal eyes caught hers, making her breath falter.
Goodness. It was much too soon to react this way to a gentleman. Or she thought it was. But what if it was not? Both her sisters had fallen in love in a matter of a few weeks. Could it happen even sooner?
“Thalia.” His voice was a harsh whisper. “Take my serviette.”
Such a simple thing, a napkin, and she had her own. But he’d called her by her name. She should tell him it was too soon, that she had not given him permission. Yet the way her name sounded on his lips made her want him to continue. “Thank you.”
“We should go back the house now.” Her aunt’s voice filled the room, ending Thalia’s discussion with Kendal. “You will all want to rest before this evening’s activities.”
“What is going on tonight?” he asked.
“There is to be dancing in the village, and everyone will stay up until it is dark.” Or that is what she had been told. “I have never been to something like this.”
He took her hand. “Dance with me tonight.”
“Yes.” She had also never been asked to dance. “I would be delighted.”
“Kendal,” the Duchess of Hull said, “you are invited to stay for the festivities.”
Thalia held her breath as she waited for him to answer. Fortunately, it did not take long.
“Thank you, Your Grace. I will take you up on your kind offer. If you do not mind, my lady?” He glanced at her as if truly asking for her permission.
She wanted him to call her by her name again, but the rest of her family was listening. So much was happening at once, Thalia was almost overwhelmed. Yet this was what she wanted. “I have no objection at all.”
Kendal’s silver gaze remained on her. “Thank you.” Then he bowed to Thalia’s aunt.
“Thank you. I’d like that very much.”
“You will have to spend the night here,” the Duchess of Hull. “It is too dangerous to cross the river after dark. As soon as I return, I shall send your valet across with a change of clothing.”
Thalia could feel the movement around them, but it was as if they were in their own space that no one could violate . . . until little Giffard, Meg and Hawksworth’s son, toddled against her leg and grabbed onto it. “What have we here?”
The nine-month-old baby gazed up at her with his mother’s blue eyes.
“I have him.” Meg scooped Giffard up, and wrinkled her nose as she looked at Thalia’s gown. “I’m afraid he got his sticky hands on your gown.”
“I’m sure it is nothing my maid cannot remedy.” The wrinkles his hands had left might be harder to repair. “I would like to spend more time with him before we leave.”
“That can be arranged.” Meg cuddled the boy, who was already bouncing to be put down. “But you might want to wear an apron or an old gown. He always seems to be into something dirty.”
“There are no nursemaids?” Kendal seemed struck by the idea.
“They do have them, and nurses for the babies, but my family all think children benefit from being with their parents. I think it was Meg and Hawksworth who started it.”
Kendal held out his arm, and she tucked her hand in the crook. “When I marry and have children, I shall do the same.”
Kendal could not help but to focus on Thalia . . . Lady Thalia . . . for a few moments. Surprisingly, he could see her holding a baby. Perhaps one with silvery blonde hair and gray eyes or dark hair and turquoise-blue eyes. Some mix between the two of them. Their child. “Yes. I believe that is an excellent idea.”
He escorted her to the waiting coaches, feeling guilty for deserting his hostess. He should go back across the river with the Duchess of Hull and return later. But he’d been given leave to depart with Thalia’s family, and that was what he wished to do. Still, he should make the gesture. “Duchess.” Three heads turned his way, and they laughed as he flushed. “Her Grace of Hull.”
“I think we knew which one of us you meant,” she said. “The reactions were out of habit.”
“I do not like to abandon you.” That was the most he could say without causing Thalia to think he did not wish to stay with her.
The duchess fluttered her fingers. “Think nothing of it. The only ones who will be upset are some of the house party’s young ladies. However, it is clear to me that none of them interest you.”
That struck him. She was absolutely right. None of the ladies had caught his attention at all. Most were pretty, one was even an accredited beauty, all were dressed in the height of fashion, but none of them were Thalia. Thalia who had shyly flirted with him, if one could even call it that. Who was not impressed that he was a duke, but was overjoyed that he had placed strawberries on her plate, and had helped her select items to buy. He hoped she would forget about his loan to her.
He bowed. “Thank you.”
“It is my pleasure.” She stepped up into her coach. “Have a wonderful time.”
“I shall.” He knew without a doubt he would.
Kendal and Thalia were put in the coach with her mother and aunt. They made small talk about how fine the weather had been during the past week after the extreme cold in May.
“All the blossoms fell off the trees at Somerset,” Thalia said. “I cannot imagine the rest of Northern England fared much better.”
It was amazing that she cared so much about the effects of the cold. Many young ladies would not care. She would be even better informed once she was let out into the world, and it would be a sight to behold. Kendal wanted to be there. He wanted to be the one to show her what the rest of England and parts of the Continent held. “At least the south was not badly affected.”
“That is a good thing.” She pressed her lips together and gave her head a little shake. “Yet will the south be able to feed the entire country?”
It was a good question. He only wished he had an answer. “I don’t know. I will ensure that my tenants have what they need, and neighboring farms as well.”
Thalia’s smile lit a part of his heart he’d thought had died after he lost Lillian, making him want to remain with her as long as he could. He’d never felt like this about another lady. Certainly not his wife. “I knew you would be responsible and kind.”
Kendal wanted to take her hand and kiss each finger. It didn’t even matter that she was wearing gloves. But they were in a coach with her mother and aunt.
“I think it is commendable of you, Kendal,” her aunt said. “We shall behave in the same manner. It is reprehensible that others will not.” The duchess turned to Thalia’s mother, who seemed to say very little. “You will forgive me for saying so, but that is the only good I can see in Somerset. He will, at least, take care of his holdings, including his tenants. I should not say so to you, but it is my belief that the dukedom is the only thing he cares about.”
To Kendal’s surprise, Thalia jumped into the conversation. “You might very well be right, Aunt, but you are also correct that you should not criticize him to Mama.”
“Yes, my dear.” The duchess’s lips twisted ruefully. “I shall say no more.”
The talk turned to gossip about things that had occurred during the recent Season, and again Thalia surprised him with her knowledge about people he knew she had never met.
It was not until they had traveled the short distance to the Melbrough estate that he had a chance to ask her. “How do you know so much?”
“Mama receives letters from practically everyone, and I am allowed to read most of them.”
When she tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, the feeling that she belonged next to him made him want to carry her off.
“We can either go inside or take the side path and walk around the gardens,” she said.
Pandemonium reigned as the other coaches arrived and the rest of her family filled the front. “If you are allowed, I would love to see the gardens.”
“I shall ask.” She looked at the crowd of people and found who she was looking for. “Mama, may I show Kendal the gardens?”
“Yes.” Her mother nodded absently. “But stay within view of the house.”
It wasn’t until they had strolled around the corner of the building that he realized how large it was. “I was afraid I would add to an already crowded house, but I can see I was wrong.” Built in an “I” shape, the building was of a deep-sand-colored stone stretching four floors high, topped by attics and underpinned with cellars.
“Yes, there is plenty of room. I like that it does not have a wall surrounding the property.”
Kendal had to think about that for a moment. Very few great houses were walled in now. Only a few of the older castles, like . . . Somerset. He’d traveled by once with his guardian, but they had stopped only long enough to admire the centuries-old castle that had been maintained as if it would be needed to protect the family from a battle again, complete with a curtain wall, drawbridge and moat.
He felt the need to reassure her. “None of my properties have walls surrounding them.”
Thalia smiled brightly. “That is good to know.”
They reached old-fashioned, Tudor-style gardens with low boxwood hedges surrounding squares and triangles of flowers now overflowing with blooms. “This is wonderfully kept.”
“My aunt particularly likes the gardens here. She says it is her favorite of their holdings.”
They found a bench in clear view of the south side of the house. No doubt a maid or footman had been posted to watch them. Taking out a handkerchief, he swept it over the already clean wooden bench. “Tell me about your family.”
“There are quite a lot of us.” She grinned. “You already know my older sisters and Hawksworth, and I told you about Frank, the second-eldest, who is in America. Quartus married the Duchess of Wharton earlier this year. They should be here by tomorrow. Sextus is in Russia at our embassy. Quintus is in the army and Octavius is in the navy. I have seen him only a few times. He left when he was ten and rarely comes home. Septimius was to have been in the clergy, but is now a secretary to Lord Stanstead and would like to run for Parliament someday. Nonus is studying law. One of my brothers died before I was born. Then there are Decimus and William, the twins, who are at Eton. The youngest, Mary, is twelve.” Thalia plucked a daisy growing next to the bench. “What about your family?”
Kendal’s family was not nearly as large as hers. “I have two older sisters. After that, several children did not survive, and then I was born.” If he was serious about her, and he was, it was time to talk to her about what few people knew. “I was married shortly after I reached my majority.” He slid her a look, but she was merely waiting for him to continue. “I had been betrothed before I was in leading strings, and the marriage was supposed to have happened when I was twenty, but my guardian would not allow it.”
Her finger came up, covering her pink lips. “That is quite young for a gentleman.”
“Yes, but not unheard of.” He watched her slowly denude the daisy. “We were not well-suited. My father had arranged the match, and I did not think I could honorably disclaim it. After all, she had been raised to believe she would be the Duchess of Kendal. We did our duty”—as much as he wished it had been otherwise, that was all it was to both of them—“and she was soon with child. A little girl named Lillian.”
“That is a beautiful name.”
“It suited her. Unfortunately, she caught a fever and died.” He would have left it at that, but Thalia stared at him intently.
“My wife was prone to temper tantrums. One night, it was storming, but she decided to leave. I wasn’t there, and none of the servants knew why she insisted on leaving that night. The coachman refused to take her, but she convinced one of the younger grooms to drive the coach. She took Lillian with her.”
Kendal should have been there. If he had postponed his trip to another of his estates for one day, he would have been able to stop his wife. “The coach ended up in the river. The head groom and some of the others had followed her when they discovered the coach missing, but the groom who had been driving was dead, as was my wife. Only Lillian was alive.”
This was always the hardest part to think about. He’d never told the story to anyone else, but he wanted to tell Thalia. He had to take several breaths before he could continue. “I came home as soon as I received the message, but I could do nothing to save her.”
Thalia’s hand covered his. “Unless you believe yourself to be soothsayer, you are not at fault. You could not have known.”
He covered her fingers with his own. “That is what Berwick always tells me.”
She drew in a sharp breath, and paled so alarmingly Kendal thought she would faint. “Berwick-upon-Tweed?”
“Yes.” What was going on? “He was my guardian. Thalia, what is it?”
Closing her eyes, she shook her head, but two tears seeped from beneath her lashes. “My—my father is trying to arrange a match for me with him.”
Kendal felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. “No.”
“Yes.” She nodded. “It’s true.”
But it wasn’t possible. He’d just come from Berwick, who hadn’t mentioned another marriage. Something wasn’t right. “It might be what your father wishes, but I can almost guarantee you that Berwick does not.”
“I do not understand. Father said Berwick needed an heir.”
Raising her hands, Kendal kissed them. “Berwick has a nephew he loves as his own son.” Then Kendal remembered what the man had said. Go to Wintering. There is someone you will find interesting. Kendal wanted to crow. “He knew you were going to be here.” Gazing into her eyes, he knew that his mentor had known him better than Kendal knew himself. “He wanted us to meet.”
And wed. He had never felt such a strong pull toward any lady. It wasn’t any one thing. Not her intelligence, or her calm nature, or even the way she had gazed down at her little nephew with such love. It was that she was exactly the type of lady he had always dreamed of marrying and never thought he could find. Yet he had. For the first time, he could envision a future filled with love, and children, and a meeting of minds. Was this love? It must be. Now he just needed to convince Thalia to spend the rest of her life with him.
CHAPTER 4
“BUT HOW?” Thalia did not understand. “And why?”
“He has been gently nudging me toward marrying again. I don’t know how he knew or why he thought you and I would be right for each other.” He wrapped his large hands around both of hers and kissed them again. “Thalia. May I call you Thalia?” She looked at their hands together. She was falling in love, but how could that have happened so soon? She could not speak above a whisper. “Yes.”
“And I want you to call me Giles. No one else does.” He held her hands to his cheeks and kissed them again. “I have never been in love before, but I believe with my whole heart that I am falling in love with you.” He touched his forehead to their clasped hands. She had never known how important to love hands were. “Please tell me you feel the same.”
“Yes. Giles, yes.” Her fears fell away and her heart took flight, pounding fiercely in her breast. “I think I am falling in love with you as well.” But they faced a powerful problem. “What about my father?”
“We will think of something.” Gently disengaging his hands from hers, he drew her into his arms. “I won’t allow him to come between us.” Giles lowered his lips to hers, and softly kissed her before moving off the bench and lowering himself to one knee. “Thalia, my love, will you be my wife and helpmate for the rest of our lives?”
She did not think she had ever been so happy. No, she knew she had never been. “Yes. I would love to be your wife.”
Yet as soon as she agreed to marry him, her mind spun with the implications. This is what her married brothers and sisters had gone through. Every time each had found the perfect mate, their father had tried to stop the marriage. Thalia and Giles needed help, and she knew where to obtain it.
“We need to talk to my brothers and sisters. They might even know what is going on with Berwick.” Rising, she took Kendal’s hand. “Let us find them.”
That turned out to be easier than she had expected. Leading him to the nearest French window, she opened it to find, not only her sisters, brothers-in-law and Hawksworth, but Quartus and his wife as well. Before Thalia could get a word out, Laia bustled to her and hugged her. “I am so happy for you!”
Giles placed his mouth close to Thalia’s ear. “When your mother said to remain in view of the house, I didn’t know we would be so avidly chaperoned.”
“Oh, my dear,” her aunt said, “I knew by the way Kendal looked at you at the market that the two of you would make a match. Thank goodness it did not take long.”
“From the way you described it”—her uncle, who had joined them, took her aunt’s hand—“it was the same way I looked when I first saw you. Or that’s what my mother told me.”
Everyone laughed, and her uncle called for champagne. Thalia glanced around the room. “Should we not wait for Mama?”
Her brothers and sisters exchanged looks, then Meg said, “She cannot be here. Catherine will be extremely happy for you, but with the twins and Mary still young, Catherine she cannot take the chance that the duke will discover she was part of this in any way.”
“I see.” How sad for her. Then what Meg had said struck Thalia. She exchanged a look with Kendal and saw the same question in his eyes. “Perhaps you can tell us how this all came about?”
“I can help explain that.” Standing in the door was a large man with thick silver hair and striking dark-blue eyes. “Lady Thalia.” He bowed, and when he straightened, he glanced at Kendal. “Well, my boy?”
Her betrothed dropped his jaw, but quickly snapped it shut. “My love, allow me to introduce the Duke of Berwick-upon-Tweed. Berwick, my betrothed, Lady Thalia.”
Berwick’s laugh filled the room. “I’m glad to see you didn’t waste any time. Well done.”
She rubbed the place between her brows. “I’m confused.”
Meg stepped over and took Thalia’s hand. “Come, have a seat, and we shall explain everything.”
Champagne was served, tea was brought in, and she and Giles were congratulated by everyone present. Although her mother always vowed that a cup of tea was the best restorative, Thalia decided to have a second glass of champagne. It was the bubbles she liked so much. She had never had a drink that tickled her nose before.
Meg sat on a large chair with Hawksworth propped on the arm. “I suppose I should begin at the beginning. My grandmother Featherton, the Duchess of Bridgewater—”
“They helped Markville and me,” Euphrosyne interrupted.
“Yes,” Meg said. “One can always depend upon my grandmother’s and the duchess’s assistance. They made it possible for Hawksworth and me to marry as well. For you, we studied all the information available to us and came up with a very short list of gentlemen your father was likely to approach concerning your marriage.”
Thalia was surprised they had taken so much time on her behalf.
Berwick took up the story. “I have a piece of property that marches along the boundary of a Somerset property in York. Many know that it is unentailed, but most do not know that it was my late wife’s dower property and, according to her wishes, it will go to the grandchild who needs it the most.” His tone became gruff with emotion. “I will not part with it under any other circumstances.”
He took a sip of wine. “Before Somerset approached me, the Duchess of Bridgewater wrote me informing me that if he offered you in marriage, I was to write to Lady Hawksworth.”
The corners of Giles’s lips tilted up, and he squeezed Thalia’s hand. “At some point, you contacted Hull. His duchess was either already planning a house party, or decided to hold a house party to which I would be invited.”
“Yes.” Laia spoke up. “We wanted to make sure that you were the right one for our sister. If you had grown close to one of the ladies at the house party, we would have known that you were not the right gentleman.”
“Her Grace of Hull was happy to help,” Euphrosyne said. “She and her husband sheltered Markville and me after our marriage.”
“There is no love lost between Hull and Somerset,” Markville added.
“Yes, yes,” Berwick said. “And time was of the essence. I had no doubt Somerset would browbeat Thalia into accepting someone — me if I offered first.”
“And if you did not offer . . .” The heat left Giles’s hand. “What would have happened?”
Hawksworth scowled. “The other choice was so bad that I would have sent Thalia to Frank and Jenny rather than allow her to marry him.”
Giles’s eyes widened. “In America?”
Her brother gave one short nod. “Yes.”
Thalia took a deep breath. He was talking about what would have happened, not what was going to occur. “But now that Kendal and I have decided we wish to wed, how do we go about doing it?”
Kendal’s brow rose in a dukely manner. “Naturally, I shall approach your father and give him what he wants to allow your marriage to me.”
“No!” everyone in the room shouted at the same time.
“No?” Giles’s tone was soft, but almost dangerous.
“Allow me to explain.” Markville drained his glass. “I did that, and I would not wish what happened to us on anyone. Somerset betrothed Euphrosyne to Ross.”
“Not the current duke?” Giles asked with surprise.
“No, the one who died last year. Full of the French pox and an opium eater,” Thalia said. Laia had told Thalia about the man.
“She was carrying our child, and the cur would still not allow our marriage,” Markville said.
Kendal dragged a hand down his face. “Good Lord.”
“The sad fact of the matter,” Bolton said, “is that the man cares nothing about his children. His sole purpose is to marry them to anyone who can increase the wealth of the dukedom, and, to him, that means acquiring more land adjacent to his own.”
“Exactly,” Meg agreed. “Whatever we decide must be kept among those of us here.”
Suddenly, the stories Kendal had heard began to make sense. “That is the reason none of you were invited to any of the events at Hull.”
Thalia’s aunt nodded. “We needed to keep our presence here as quiet as possible.” She gave a wry grin. “Fortunately, we have no single young gentlemen with us who must be entertained.”
“Thalia said you were normally in Wiltshire,” Kendal remarked. All this had been extremely well coordinated and planned. “If I continue to travel back and forth from Hull, someone is bound to notice.” Probably the young ladies at the Duchess of Hull’s house party.
“If you do not mind terribly”—Lady Hawksworth’s tone was apologetic, but it also conveyed determination—“we had planned to keep you here with us.”
“How will I explain my absence?” All his clothes and his servants were at Hull.
“There is no problem about that.” The duchess gave him a too-innocent look. “Once Millie and I saw which way the wind was blowing, and if you agreed to remain here, she would tell the rest of her party that you were called away to attend to a dire problem on one of your estates. I expect your servants and belongings will be here shortly.”
He must have been looking as if he didn’t agree, for Berwick said, “It’s the best way to do this, my boy.”
Thalia had a worried look in her beautiful eyes. “If you do not wish to remain—”
“Of course I do. I am just not used to matters being taken out of my hands.” Even though his marriage had been disastrous, honoring his father’s plan had been his decision. It was the only time he and Berwick had truly argued. “What do we do now?”
Hawksworth had been refilling everyone’s glasses with champagne—no one had been interested in tea—and set the bottle down. “Tomorrow, you and I, representing Talia, shall work out a settlement agreement. Berwick has a plan to trick Somerset into signing it, but even if he does not, I will dower Thalia, as I did for Euphrosyne.”
Kendal’s jaw tightened. “I don’t care about her dowry.”
“But I do.” Thalia squeezed his hand. “I care.”
“Very well.” Catching her eyes, he gazed at her, and despite all the scheming to get them together, he did not want to even think about how much luck had played into their meeting and falling in love. “I will hazard a guess that she is not of age.” She shook her head. “How and where are we going to marry?”
Berwick grinned. “Do you remember Whiteadder Hall?”
“Yes.” Kendal had loved playing there as a child and hearing the stories surrounding the old house. “That is perfect.”
The rest of the group leaned forward in their seats, but Thalia asked the question. “Where is it?”
“It’s west of Berwick-upon-Tweed, on the border with Scotland.”
“If Somerset does not agree to the wedding, would we travel across the border to marry?”
“I’d planned to do that with Euphrosyne.” Markville frowned. “He abducted her before we could depart.”
“We need not leave the property at all.” Kendal smiled smugly. “The estate’s chapel is in Scotland.”
“Excellent.” Thalia’s smile could not have been wider or more adoring. “That will solve everything.”
Kendal only prayed she was right.
THAT EVENING, everyone was in good spirits as they left the house for town. Kendal had been to midsummer revelries before, and vowed he would keep Thalia at his side. Thankfully, she must have had the same thoughts, as she turned down every request to dance and remained with him throughout the evening. It was his right to be the only one to stand up with her. They were betrothed. Or as betrothed as they could be. Everyone in her family agreed with the marriage except the duke, and that would have to do.
They skipped and twirled in the country dances, which at times left them almost breathless. Her aunt had had the forethought to bring lemonade, as the only thing available locally was ale.
He had two glasses, and offered a taste to Thalia, who wrinkled her nose adorably. “I am not fond of ale, no matter how good it is.”
At one point, he danced her behind a large chestnut tree and kissed her, teasing her lips open and sweeping his tongue into her mouth, tasting the sweetness of the lemonade. She tentatively touched her tongue to his, and his knees almost buckled as his cock hardened. The one thing he had not asked was how long it would be before they could marry. After the story about her sister’s abduction, he would not make Thalia his until he had a ring on her finger.
But her soft body pressed against his, and her hands slipped over his shoulders. Kendal pulled Thalia against him, skating his hands down her back and over her bottom. God how he wanted her. Her breasts pressed into his chest, and he had to touch them, and press his knee between her legs. He could feel the heat at the apex of her thighs. She moaned, and he had the urge to throw her into a coach and flee for the border, now. When she shattered in his arms, it was all he could do to keep from spilling. If only he could make love to her.
Then another couple, who were much more overtly amorous than they were, which at the moment was saying something, decided the tree was a good place to indulge in their lust. When the woman lifted her skirts, Kendal led Thalia away.
Hell and damnation! He’d better marry her as soon as he could. He calculated how long it would take to travel to Whiteadder Hall, just a few miles from Berwick-upon-Tweed, and realized the journey could not be done in less than three days with all of her family and the children accompanying them. More likely five days. If that was the case, how soon could they depart for Whiteadder? Thalia had said she was fixed here until June. But did she have to be? Could he convince her family to move to Whiteadder much sooner?
Thalia kissed his jaw. “You are being very quiet.”
He gazed down into her eyes and knew he’d never tire of them.
“What are you thinking?”
“How quickly we could wed.”
Mirth replaced the solemn look and warmed the blue. “As far as I am concerned, the sooner the better.”
“I feel as if I have known you all my life.” It almost scared him how much he loved Thalia, when a day ago he had not even known she existed. What would have happened if he had ignored Berwick or if Kendal had escorted one of the ladies at Hull to the fair today? So many things could have gone awry, and he never would have met her.
“I feel as if I have been waiting for you.” She gifted him with another of her smiles. “Did I tell you that when Meg found out Somerset”—Kendal noticed that duke’s children rarely referred to the man as “father”—“had betrothed Laia to the old duke of Bolton, she invited Guy to her house and suggested he marry her instead?”
Kendal couldn’t stop himself from laughing at his vision of the former Guy Paulet’s stunned expression. “What did he say?”
“That he would have to meet her first.” Thalia grinned. “If I am not mistaken, two weeks later they had decided to wed.” Her finely arched brows drew together. “Euphrosyne and Markville fell in love before then. And Hawksworth said that the first time he saw Meg, he wanted to marry her. Although it took him a long time to convince her that she wanted to marry him. Do you think falling in love quickly runs in my family?”
Something obviously did. If Kendal were being poetic, he might say it was a purity of heart. Perhaps the way their father behaved made them more prone to want to find someone to love. Could the lack of love or even friendship in Kendal’s first marriage have made it easier for him to fall in love when he finally met the one lady who was perfect for him? “I don’t know, but it might be that the heart knows what it wants regardless of time.”
The sun was starting to slip in the sky when Lord and Lady Hawksworth reached Kendal and Thalia. She began to discuss something with her sister-in-law, while Kendal sidled up to her brother. “How soon can Thalia and I marry?”
“There are details to be worked out. Can we discuss it in the morning?”
“If you wish.” He hated the delay, but he agreed that many pieces of the puzzle had to be put together, and tomorrow would have to do.
CHAPTER 5
THAT EVENING, when they returned from the celebration, Thalia’s sisters took her to her bedchamber and bid her a good night.
“He will still be here in the morning,” Laia said.
“Hawksworth said there will be a meeting about when you and Kendal can wed.” Euphrosyne hugged Thalia. “We shall come up with a way to make it soon.”
“The thing we must remember is that you are supposed to be in Wiltshire. That adds at least two or three days to any travel schedule we give Somerset.”
Trust Laia to think of the details when Thalia would be happy to leave tomorrow. “I am glad you are keeping account of everything.”
Her eldest sister bussed her cheek. “That is what Guy says.”
It was all she could do not to go to Giles’s room. Her body still hummed with what they had done earlier. No wonder her sisters and Meg liked being married so much. And to think that when Thalia had awoken this morning, she’d had no idea what a momentous day it would be. Her sisters had been right when they had predicted something good would happen here.
Her maid brushed out Thalia’s hair, and she caught a glimpse of the combs she had purchased at the fair. “I really should tell Hawksworth to repay Kendal for everything I borrowed today.”
She could feel her maid laugh along with the brush strokes. “My lady, I don’t think it makes a difference now.”
“Perhaps you are correct.” She would ask in any event.
Once Thalia was in bed, she was certain she’d not be able to sleep, but the next thing she knew, Mannering was pulling back the bed hangings. “Lady Hawksworth suggested you might wish to rise, my lady.”
Glancing around, Thalia found the clock. It was almost nine in the morning. She was usually up at seven. How had she slept so late? “Thank you.”
When she reached the breakfast room, only the older members of the family were not present.
Giles rose and pulled out the chair next to his for her. “All of us except Hawksworth waited for you before we began eating.”
Quartus sniggered, a sound she had never heard him make before.
“I thank the rest of you for waiting,” Thalia said. “I know my brother well enough not to expect him to wait.”
“A wise lady,” Guy Bolton said.
Her aunt, uncle, and Berwick entered as a second round of tea was brought. Her uncle took the seat at the head of the table, and her aunt sat next to him. Berwick found a place on the other side of Giles.
He placed a pot of strawberry marmalade next to Thalia’s toast.
“Where did you find that?” she picked up the jar.
“At the market yesterday.” His smile was a bit smug. “When my servants arrived, I sent one of the grooms back for it.”
“If I did not already love you, I would for that alone.”
“Hmmm.” He rubbed his chin. “I must make sure no other gentleman brings you strawberries. I might have to call him out.”
She was glad to see he had a sense of humor first thing in the morning. “You would not!”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I would not wish to lose you to some cur with strawberries.”
“You will never have to worry about that, my love. I am not fickle.”
He gazed at her as if he’d kiss her at the breakfast table in front of her whole family.
“I shall insure all of our estates have strawberries for you year-round.”
“I see what you mean.” Hawksworth’s lazy drawl could be heard down the table. “Well, then, let’s review the timetable we have been working from and find a way to tighten it.” He drained his cup and held it out for more. “Guy, you were always the best at working these things through.”
Giles leaned toward Thalia, putting his mouth against her ear and making her shiver. “How does he know that?”
She kept her voice low. “It must have something to do with the time they were in the army together.”
Bolton’s fingers drummed a tattoo on the table. “Laia, we are not supposed to arrive in Berwick until the third of June, is that correct?”
“Yes.” She held her cup as if ready to take a drink. “If we are early, there must be a reason. Mama never leaves Wiltshire before the stated date.”
Giles whispered to Thalia. “I take it you traveled from Wiltshire to here without the duke’s knowledge?”
Not wanting to interrupt Bolton’s ruminations, she nodded.
“So, what could happen to change that date?” he mused.
“Berwick could have somehow met Thalia and decided he wanted her to arrive earlier.” Meg frowned. “Could he have for some reason gone to Wiltshire?”
He shook his head. “I have no holdings in the area.”
“But you do have shipping interests,” Giles said.
Looking suddenly alert, Berwick nodded.
“And”—Thalia continued the thought—“even if they are not in Bristol, could a ship have been forced to go into the port, making it imperative that you travel to there?”
“Yes.” The duke nodded again. “Yes, I could, and the reason need not matter.”
“In that case, you could have asked to stay at Melbrough for the night on your way to the Great North Road.”
“Indeed, that could have occurred. It is common knowledge that Melbrough and I are friends.” Berwick glanced at Giles. “If you change your mind, my boy, I have a mind to take the lady off your hands.”
Giles narrowed his eyes and actually growled. Thalia put a hand over her mouth to smother her laughter, but her family did not bother to hide their mirth.
“I take it you don’t like the idea?” Berwick was clearly fighting not to laugh.
“I do not.” Giles slipped his arm around her, pulling her close. “I will thank you for sending me to her.”
“I was glad to do it.” The older man’s expression softened. “I wish for you the grand passion I had with Elizabeth.”
“Shall we get on with the plan?” Bolton asked, although he did not wait for an answer. “So, Berwick was at Melbrough and met Thalia.” Guy’s brows lowered. “We have been here for almost two weeks. It’s roughly five or six days from Wiltshire to Berwick-upon-Tweed. If he met her during her first week, then we could arrive at almost any time.”
“And Catherine would agree to visit Berwick early because it would please Somerset,” Meg said.
“Does it matter that no one wrote Somerset telling him of the change in plan?” Euphrosyne glanced around the table.
“Not if she wrote a letter that didn’t get sent.” Uncle Melbrough shrugged apologetically. “I must have forgotten to frank it, and it is still on my desk.”
Bolton nodded slowly. “Berwick, you must write Somerset immediately and send it by messenger. Does anyone know where he is at present?”
“He will be in Leicestershire,” Laia said.
“Then that won’t work.” Bolton tapped his fingers on the table again. “He could arrive before we do.”
“What if,” Giles said, “we just go to Whiteadder and Berwick writes Somerset from there?”
“Of course,” Bolton said. “I wonder that I didn’t think of it.”
“You have forgotten about the settlement agreements.” Hawksworth looked at Berwick. “Did you receive them before you left?”
“I did, and I brought them with me.”
“Very well, I’ll review them, and we’ll have my secretary draft the new agreements with Kendal’s name and change your information to his.”
Euphrosyne shook her head. “That will not work. His secretary, Belling, reads everything Somerset signs and would easily spot the differences.”
“Drat.” Bolton rubbed one cheek. “How do we get rid of Belling long enough for Somerset to sign the agreements?”
“I really hate to ruin what seems to be an excellent plan in the making,” Uncle Melbrough said, “but is that quite legal? I believe Somerset could repudiate the contract when he discovered he’d been duped.”
“But would he?” Aunt asked. “He is very proud, and if it ever got out that he had signed the documents without reading them, well . . .”
Hawksworth prepared another bite before speaking. “It’s worth the risk. With the wedding taking place in Scotland, Thalia will be legally wed, and that’s what is important.”
Her uncle nodded. “Then how do we rid ourselves of Belling?”
The suggestions ranged from finding a woman to waylay the man—making Thalia blush—to joking suggestions of poison.
Berwick chuckled. “You are a bloodthirsty group. Remind me not to get in your black books.”
Finally, Giles asked, “Does he travel with the duke?”
Euphrosyne shook her head. “No, Somerset prefers to travel alone.”
“Then we can find a way to cause his carriage to break down and delay him for a day or two.” He looked around the table, and everyone nodded.
Guy glanced at Hawksworth. “We shall need to locate him and make the accident occur.”
He grinned wickedly. “That will be no problem at all.”
Thalia wondered how her brother planned to make it happen, but decided not to ask. She had a more pressing question. “When can Kendal and I marry?”
Bolton stared in her direction, but not at her. “In five days, if we can depart tomorrow.”
She looked at her aunt, who rose from the table. “I shall see you later. There is a great deal to be done.”
“Five days.” Giles’s lips moved against her temple. “I might die before then.”
Part of her wanted to laugh, but the other part knew exactly what he meant. Five days would be a very long time.
TO KENDAL’S AMAZEMENT, their group actually left before nine in the morning the following day. It would have taken his sisters a day more just to decide what they needed to bring.
He stood idly between Bolton and Hawksworth as trunks, bags, children, and servants were loaded onto several large traveling coaches. The ladies were in charge of all of the organization. Thalia nodded at something Meg said, and scurried off to the lead coach. “I am impressed.”
“I have come to believe ladies are born quartermasters,” Bolton said.
“And they don’t forget the food.” Hawksworth scowled at him.
“It was only once,” Bolton protested.
“That was more than enough,” Hawksworth retorted.
Kendal was wise enough to stifle his laughter, but sometime he would ask about Hawksworth’s obsession with food. Had it come from his time in the army or from his upbringing? “Do we have any idea where we’ll stop?”
“I studied all of our estates yesterday,” Bolton said, “and planned a route that will allow us to stay at properties one or another of us owns without going out of our way. Tonight we’ll be at my manor house just north of Boroughbridge. Laia sent a letter instructing them to prepare for our cavalcade.”
“I’ll take my son up with me if he becomes too troublesome.” Hawksworth smiled. “He likes the horse.”
“You are planning to ride?” Kendal didn’t want to travel in his coach alone. He would gladly share it with Thalia, but that would be dangerous. He didn’t think he could keep his hands off her for hours at a time.
“Yes.” Guy indicated the horses bring brought up from the stables. “Do you have your hack with you?”
“Unfortunately, I do not.” Kendal wished his mentor had suggested he bring one. “I was assured that Hull could find me a suitable horse for riding.”
“I’ve got an extra one with me.” Hawksworth motioned to one of the grooms. “You can ride Belen.”
“Thank you.” Kendal had begun to think of Thalia’s family as his own. Of course, he’d been helped in that by the way they had all embraced him and the sudden betrothal. By dinner last night, he had been on a familiar name basis with all of them except Hawksworth, who no one called by his first name. “I appreciate your generosity.”
His future brother-in-law nodded. “You’ll find we have all become quite close.” He looked around. “Where have Quartus and Anna gone?”
“They went ahead early this morning,” Guy said. “Their babies were being fussy, and she saw no reason not to depart when they were all already up.”
Kendal had spoken to the Duchess of Wharton—the only duchess in her own right he knew of—and her husband Lord Quartus only for a few minutes yesterday because they were busy attending to the children. “I hope they feel better soon.”
“Once they have a full set of teeth, they’ll be fine.” Meg had strolled up to them. “Giffard was horrible when he was teething.” She glanced at her husband. “We’re ready when you are.”
“Lunch?”
“I’ve had baskets packed for today.”
“Very well.” Hawksworth gave her a quick kiss. “We’ll ride in front.”
He and Guy strode off to where the horses waited, and Kendal followed. Before they mounted, the other gentlemen joined them. He’d never been part of a large family group before. Or a large group of men. Thus far, he liked it a great deal.
They rode to the front of the carriages, and some outriders flanked the coaches while others rode behind the last carriage. Berwick and Melbrough traveled in the latter’s coach.
Stopping at their own estates turned out to be an excellent idea. They had sufficient bedchambers, room for the servants, a nursery for the children, and stabling. Five days of traveling didn’t feel that long at all.
They arrived at Whiteadder Hall on Saturday afternoon, and the group soon settled into the large house, which had been renovated and improved many times over the past four or five hundred years.
Once they’d washed the dirt from the road and eaten, Kendal took Thalia around the gardens. “The house had a moat and walls at one point. I saw the plans in the muniments room.”
“You would never know by looking at it now.” She turned to him, and he drew her into his arms. “I am glad my family gave us time together.” They’d had time to speak for hours in the evenings.
“It gave us time to know each other better. I love you even more now.”
“Yes.” She smiled up at him, and he could not resist kissing her.
If only he could take her to his bedchamber. But he’d agreed with her family that the rest would have to wait until they’d wed. “We can look at the chapel if you wish.”
Sliding her fingers down his arm she took his hand. “Let’s do that. Do you know the story behind it?”
“I think Berwick will have to be the one to tell it. He’ll do a much better job than I will.”
Kendal took her around to the other side of the hall to the small stone chapel where in two days they would be married. If all went well.
CHAPTER 6
THALIA WAS ENCHANTED. Unlike the squat chapel with plain glass her family had at Somerset, this one was tall, rising two levels above the ground floor. Stained glass windows lined the one side she could see, and a massive double wooden door was studded with hardware that shone like gold when the sun caught it. A covered walk built with arches and columns connected the chapel with the main house.
This is where she would be married. “I have never seen anything like it!”
“Come and see the inside.” Giles grinned at her.
Berwick and her sisters, aunt, and mother stood in the open door exclaiming over the chapel.
“May I see it too?” Thalia asked.
Her mother, who had been absent for much of the time, finally felt she could join them, turned and smiled. “I think you will be very happy with it.”
Thalia stepped inside. Instead of boxes, the chapel had pews covered with bright blue cushions. Statues of saints stood in some niches, stone crypts in others.
Berwick came up next to Thalia and she indicated the crypt. “Are many in your family buried here?”
“Only one or two.” He stepped to one of the stone boxes and touched something.
Suddenly the top and side of the crypt opened, revealing stairs. “How ingenious.”
“And helpful.” He closed the box again. “These stairs lead back to the cellars in the house. Naturally, that was more helpful when the place was fortified. Others go to rooms in the Hall, and one leads to a cottage in the woods beyond.” He smiled smugly. “My ancestors had a great deal of foresight, I’m happy to say.”
Giles slipped his arm around her.
He glanced to the nave. “I think my vicar would like to meet you.”
“Your Grace.” A short man with sandy hair walked up the aisle and bowed.
“Mr. Kennedy, I trust you received my letter?”
“I did, and I am very happy to be conducting a wedding. It’s been too long since we have had one.”
Berwick performed the introductions, then the vicar took out a notebook. “I shall need your full names for the banns.”
Thalia glanced at her family, all of whom had frowns like hers. “Banns? But we wish to be married on Monday.”
Mr. Kennedy smiled gently. “In Scotland, the banns can be called three times on the Sunday before the ceremony.”
“Oh.” That was interesting. “I am Thalia Elizabeth Joan Trevor.”
“Giles Horatio William, Duke of Kendal.”
“Excellent.” Mr. Kennedy inclined his head. “Who will give the bride away?”
“The Marquis of Hawksworth,” Meg said.
“You will both need witnesses.” He glanced at the assembly. “I assume that will not be a difficulty.”
“Not at all,” her aunt said.
“Now, what time do you want the ceremony?”
Giles looked at her and shrugged. As far as she was concerned, the earlier the better. “Is nine o’clock too early?”
“Not at all.” The vicar smiled. “I shall have everything ready.” He turned to leave, but stopped. “You do know that, unlike in England, you must consummate your marriage for it to be legal in Scotland?”
“We do now,” Giles muttered.
Thalia took a breath and let it out. They would have to make love before her father could stop them. “Thank you for the information.”
“I should have told you,” Euphrosyne said, looking guilty.
Once the vicar had left them, they all looked at each other, and she wondered who would be the first to speak.
“Well,” Aunt said brightly. “It looks as if we will begin the wedding breakfast without the two of you. With your father here, there really is no other choice.”
Thalia did not even want to think about what Somerset would do if they had not consummated the marriage before he realized she had married the wrong man. But how were they going to do that? He might very well try to abduct her as he’d done to her sister.
Berwick pointed to a stone box near the nave. “Fortunately, the stairs in that one lead to a bedchamber.”
Giles drew her even closer. “How helpful.”
WHEN THEY GATHERED after dinner that evening, they received word that Somerset would arrive late on Sunday evening, and a chill ran down Thalia’s spine.
“He cannot do anything to stop us.” Giles rubbed her back. “I, we, will not allow it.”
“This must be very carefully planned.” Hawksworth’s brows lowered. “Berwick, you must keep him busy away from the chapel during the ceremony. He cannot know Kendal and Thalia are married until they are well away.”
Quartus swallowed his wine. “He tried to stop Anna’s and my wedding during the ceremony by objecting. Fortunately, the rector declared that as we were both of age, that was not a valid objection. We were in England, so once we’d signed the register, he couldn’t do anything about it.”
Markville dropped his head into his hand. “Why any man would not wish one of his younger sons to marry a duchess is beyond me.”
“There is no accounting for him.” Meg lifted one shoulder. “He tried to compromise both me and Hawksworth the night before our weddings by having a man appear in my bedchamber and a woman in Hawksworth’s.”
“Guy and I were able to get ahead of him to allow our marriage,” Laia said. “If he had not been convinced of a scandal, he would not have allowed it. As it was, he arrived demanding I return home with him.”
“You’ve convinced me.” Giles frowned. “How do we keep him out of our way?”
Berwick leaned back in his chair and drank his wine. “Is he an early riser?” They all looked at each other with puzzled expressions. “Let us assume that he is. When he arrives, all of you will quickly retire. It’s best if he doesn’t see Kendal or question any of you. I’ll post two footmen at his door to escort him to my parlor for breakfast, or he can break his fast in his room. I’ll tell him the wedding is at eleven. I should be able to keep him occupied until shortly before then.” He glanced at Thalia. “I assume he plans to give you away?”
“He gave Laia away. I imagine he will expect to do the same for me.” Thalia did not care if her father was at the wedding, but she did want her mother. “Is there any way Mama can be there?”
“Yes,” Berwick said. “She will need to stay out of sight during the ceremony, but she will have enough time to return to her chamber before Somerset is abroad. I’ll put him in my wing.”
Tears pricked Thalia’s eyes. “I might never see her again after this.”
Giles took her in his arms. “My love, you will. I’ll make it happen.”
“I will as well,” Berwick said. “It’s no secret that I was Kendal’s guardian and think of him as a son. I’ll make clear to Somerset that I fooled all of you into thinking he’d given his consent but could not arrive for the wedding.”
“Maybe we should wait until I find a piece of land bordering his.” Giles kissed her temple. “Then he’d give permission.”
“It’s not possible,” Markville said. “I tried. He has encroached so much that most of his neighbors refuse to sell if he will own the land. I would have beggared the marquisate for her. Others know there is an opportunity to marry one of their children to one of his.”
Euphrosyne sat on Thalia’s other side, taking her hand. “Mama will find a way. Never doubt it. She was at my son’s christening, and she is here now.”
Giles held Thalia as if he’d never let go.
“I think there is something Meg should tell you.” Hawksworth said.
She folded her lips and glared at her husband. “It was not my grandmother and me who decided Somerset would offer Thalia to Berwick. It was your mother. She wrote to me and gave me the information.”
“Sweetheart.” Raising her chin, Giles kissed Thalia gently on her lips. “She wants you to be happy.”
Then to her great disgust, she broke into tears. This time they were happy ones. Something that all her female relatives understood but none of her male ones did. Finally, they stopped, and the love of her life called for champagne.
“First a toast to Thalia and Kendal!” Berwick lifted his glass. “May all your days be happy ones! Great health and every good blessing to you.”
“Hear, hear!”
She was looking forward to the rest of her life, and thrilled that her family was helping her find happiness.
“Thalia wants to know the story of the chapel,” Giles said.
Berwick cleared his throat. “As you might imagine, living where I do, there have been many times over the years when a Duke of Berwick-upon-Tweed married a Scottish lady.” He raised his brows. “Sometimes, the lady was not too happy about it. The tale of the chapel begins at the time when the Marquis of Huntly owned the land adjoining on the Scottish side and wanted to marry his eldest daughter to my ancestor. She declared she would be wed only in Scotland, and the duke declared that she would be wed on his estate, as every other Berwick-upon-Tweed bride had been. She managed to hold up the wedding with her demands, and her father got sick and tired of her delaying the wedding, and said he’d give up a strip of his land that marched along the dukedom’s land so that she could be married in Scotland. Upon the marriage, the land would be part of the dukedom, but that would be her only dowry. Gone were the riches she would have brought to the marriage. As the story goes, it was meant to humble her. The duke was impressed that she kept to her principles, even in the face of her father’s decision, and bought land from her father, but just enough to build the chapel. As the lady and he planned and built the chapel, they fell in love. Later it was rebuilt as it is now. Ever since then, it’s been considered good luck to marry in that chapel.” He took a long drink of wine. “I married my wife there, and I can tell you I loved her until her death, and I still love her.”
Kendal kept his arms around Thalia as they listened to the story, one he knew and loved. “God willing, we will have a long, loving, and happy marriage.”
She smiled up at him, her eyes shining. “Yes, God willing. I am glad we will be married there.”
Her sisters and aunt decided to retire and took Thalia with them. Only one more day, and no one would take her away from him again.
Brandy had replaced the champagne—Kendal wasn’t certain how wise that was, but a glass or two shouldn’t hurt—and he stared into the amber color as he swirled it around in the glass. The stories about Somerset concerned Kendal greatly. The old duke must be mad, but unless he was exhibiting physical signs of it, no one would be able to obtain a guardianship order. As far as the world was concerned, he might be single-minded, but he was perfectly sane.
“You must be prepared.” Hawksworth’s voice intruded into Kendal’s musings.
Sitting up straighter, he put his glass on a table. “Prepared for what?”
“Somerset. He’s not to be trusted. At all. He could arrive tonight or tomorrow morning instead of the evening.”
Damnation! Kendal clinched his jaw. “We cannot marry until the banns have been read. This marriage must be completely legal so that he cannot attempt an annulment.” The other men were in various stages of thought, but he focused on Quartus, who looked as if he had something to say. Before his marriage, he’d been a vicar. “Quartus, what is it?”
“There is no law against marrying on Sunday.” He lowered his brows. “What I do not know is if there is a waiting time required between calling the banns and the wedding ceremony. In England, one could conceivably wed immediately after the last banns had been called.”
Melbrough took a languid drink of his brandy. “It would certainly make it less interesting for you if you could be married without Somerset breathing down your neck.”
Hawksworth shook his head. “He has to sign the settlement agreements.”
Rage filled Kendal, and he reached for his glass to throw it. “I don’t care about the damn settlement agreements. I want her.”
“But she cares,” Markville said in a surprisingly soft tone. “I know Euphrosyne felt it when she thought she would come to me with nothing.”
Kendal set his goblet down and pinched the bridge of his nose. “If he arrives early, what do we do?”
Berwick rose. “I shall inform my vicar to be prepared to perform the ceremony on an instant.”
“Thank you.” Kendal looked at the brandy and left it. He was going to find Thalia. He was going to do—what, he wasn’t sure. He’d never been so afraid of losing anyone in his life. He needed her like he needed air to breathe and water to drink. If it came to it, he’d throw her on a horse and ride across the border until he found someone to marry them. What he would not do was let her father take her away from him. “I shall see you in the morning.”
Footmen were stationed throughout the large, confusing house. He knew his way, but he didn’t know where Thalia was. Fortunately, he came across one of the maids he knew carrying a bucket. “Do you happen to know which room Lady Thalia has been given? I wish to leave something for her.”
The servant bobbed a curtsey. “Yes, Your Grace, she’s in the blue room fast asleep.”
“Very well. I shall wait until tomorrow. Thank you.”
“A good night, Your Grace.”
He acted as if he was heading to his room and when she was out of sight, changed course to Thalia’s chamber. He carefully lifted the latch. Thankfully, the door was not barred. But there would be no reason for it tonight. Danger had not yet arrived. Entering the room, he closed it again and turned the key. Kendal waited a bit for his eyes to adjust to the dark before moving further into the room, toward the bed.
The bed hangings had been left open and from the little light shining through the windows, he could see her. Reaching out with one finger, he caressed her cheek, and her eyes fluttered open. “My love.”
“Giles?” She clasped his hand. “What is it? Has something happened?”
“No, not yet.” He perched on the side of the bed. “Your brother suggested that your father might come before he said he would. The vicar will be told to perform the ceremony upon a moment’s notice. I wanted you to know.” That was a lie. He wanted to climb in bed with her and make her his. Now. Before her father could stop them.
“Thank you.” She rubbed his hand on her cheek. “I shall be prepared.”
She was so trusting. So innocent. Despite his need for her, he had to wait. If he made love to her now, and something happened . . . He couldn’t think like that. He’d simply trust that all would go as planned. “I shall see you in the morning.”
Kendal could feel her smile against his hand. “Good night, my love.”
He walked out of her room directly into Hawksworth, who linked arms with Kendal. “I know it’s hard. But I’m glad you made the decision to wait. Thank you.”
He should feel embarrassed being caught leaving her chamber, but did not. “It’s the only thing I could do. Under the circumstance.”
“I thought that was the case.”
The words were said with feeling, and Kendal knew the man understood his desire for Thalia, his need to see her.
They reached his room. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
His valet was waiting when he entered his bedchamber. In almost no time at all, he changed and got into in the large bed. At least Thalia was safe tonight.
CHAPTER 7
THALIA WOKE EARLY the next morning, determined to take control of her marriage to and her life with Giles. It was all well and good for the gentlemen to plan, but she could do some things as well. Such as find out where the rest of the tunnels from the chapel led. She would accomplish that directly after the service this morning.
She glanced around the room. Why was there no clock?
Tossing her covers aside, she threw her legs over the side of the bed. “Mannering.”
The maid came into the room from a small door at the end of the chamber. “Yes, my lady?”
“Do you know what time it is?” Thalia padded to the screen.
“It is half past seven. I was just getting ready to come to you.” Her maid ducked back into the dressing room. “Lady Hawksworth sent up three trunks yesterday. She had gowns made for you in London.” Mannering held up one of the garments.
Thalia’s jaw dropped, and it took her a moment to shut it. “Oh, my. Are they beautiful?”
“Yes, my lady. Beautiful and fashionable. I pressed one for this morning. Would you like to see it?”
New gowns! “Yes.” Several times over the past year, she and her mother had taken fashion plates to the local seamstress in the village near Somerset Castle, but the woman could never manage to make them up properly. When the gowns were finished, they always looked at least a year out of fashion. “It will be so nice to have something that is well-looking.”
The walking gown was primrose muslin embroidered with small violets. Mannering also held a spencer in Saxon blue. Thalia clasped her hands together. “I have never had anything so lovely.” But if she was going to explore tunnels, she might ruin the gown. “I think she meant them for me to wear after I married. Or perhaps I could wear one tomorrow for my wedding.”
Mannering sighed. “I suppose you’re right, my lady. They aren’t suitable for a young unmarried lady.”
Thalia felt sorry for her maid, who only wanted her lady to look as good as her sisters. “I shall ask when I see everyone this morning. If my aunt or mother approves, I shall change for this afternoon.”
“That’s just the thing to do.” Happy again, her maid went back into the dressing room and brought out one of her light-pink gowns.
As far as Thalia was concerned, the dress could get as dirty as it needed to be while she accomplished her mission.
When Thalia stepped out of her door, Giles was there. “I came to escort you to the breakfast room. It’s a bit of a journey from this wing.”
She joined her hand with his. “How did you sleep?”
“Well, but I knew you were safe.” He gave her a rueful grin. “Hawksworth was waiting for me when I left.”
“Oh, dear.” That could not have been comfortable. “What did he say?”
“He was glad I decided to go back to my chamber.” They reached the first level of the stairs and turned toward the back of the house.
“It will not be long now.” She wondered how difficult it was to open the stone chests. “Do you know how to open the stone boxes in the chapel?”
Tilting his head, he gazed down at her. “I do. Why?”
Thalia raised her chin. She would soon be a duchess and the mistress of her own house. It was time to go on as she meant to. Even with her husband. “I have decided to explore the tunnels to their ends in the event we need them.”
“Very well.”
They turned another corner. She had not been paying much attention, and at this rate, she would not be able to find her way back.
Giles said, “I cannot accompany you directly after the service, but I have time to show you soon how to find the levers.”
“Are they all the same?” That would make it easy.
“No.” He steered her left, and they stood in front of a green door. “But there is a trick that will help you.”
“Thank you.” He opened the door, and she found only the senior members of their party. “What happened to the others?”
“They were up and down all night with the babies,” her mother said, rising. “I am going up now to lend a hand.”
Thalia looked over the selection on the sideboard and found baked eggs and slices of ham. A fresh pot of tea was set before her when she took her seat as well as a rack of well-buttered toast.
Giles sat next to her with porridge and eggs. “It’s not breakfast for me unless I have porridge.”
“Too many years living this far north?” her uncle asked.
“That and a Scottish cook.” He poured cream on the porridge. “Bannocks are also one of my favorites, but I’ve yet to find an English or French cook who can make them properly.”
Thalia made a note to herself to speak with the cook here about making bannocks, whatever they were.
She had just finished her tea when Berwick rose. “It’s time for the service.”
They followed him out, and fortunately, the way from the breakfast room to the door into the chapel was straightforward. When Giles turned his head to speak to Berwick, she took the opportunity to ask her aunt about her new clothes.
“Meg bought me gowns, but they are not what I have been allowed to wear. May I wear them now or should I wait until I am wed?”
Her aunt glanced at Thalia’s dress. “I would wait. I know it is not the answer you want, but I am sadly superstitious, and do not believe in tempting fate.”
The news was disappointing, but not unexpected. “I think that is one of the reasons I asked.”
Her sisters and brothers-in-law joined them as Mr. Kennedy began the service. The banns were read three times, as she expected. It interested her that the reading upon which the sermon was taken was about Rebekah, one of the matriarchs of the Jewish people, and how she met her husband, and the importance of marriage. The sermon was much shorter than the ones usually offered by the vicar at Somerset, and the service was over.
“How are the babies?” Thalia asked her sisters.
“Cranky,” Euphrosyne answered. “It is a normal process, but it is frustrating because there is not much one can do. What are your plans for today?”
“Giles is going to show me how to open the stone boxes.” Thalia would not call them crypts, which they looked like and would have been if they were not hiding secret passageways. “I am going to explore the tunnels.”
“Do you mind if Euphrosyne and I come with you?” Laia asked. “I could use a diversion.”
Thalia nodded. It had been a long time since the sisters had done anything together. “It would be fun if we all went.”
The trick to opening them was not difficult, but it would not be apparent to anyone who had not been told. She made sure she could open them, close them, and get back from a tunnel before she and her sisters began their exploration.
The first one led—as she had been told yesterday—to the wine cellars. The sisters traced their way back to the chapel and went to the next box. That led to a long passageway ending in stairs that led into a lovely little cottage.
“How nice.” She and her sisters looked around the house and well-tended garden.
“Did you notice how clean the tunnels are?” Euphrosyne asked.
“This cottage as well,” Laia added.
“I wonder if they are often used or if the housekeeper simply keeps them in good order,” Thalia said.
The third tunnel led to a set of stairs that opened into a wardrobe in a large bedchamber. When the sisters entered the room, two maids shrieked.
“Goodness, my lady,” one of the maids said. “You gave us a fright. We’re not used to the tunnels being used.”
“Do you clean them?” Thalia asked to satisfy her curiosity.
“The footmen do, my lady. One of the boys—it might have been the Duke of Kendal—got a bad bug bite from something in the tunnels, and got sick. Ever since then, they’ve been cleaned regular.”
“And I thought they were secret.” Euphrosyne sounded disappointed.
“Well, my lady, as to that, only the most senior of us knows about them, and we don’t tell no one else.”
Euphrosyne grinned. “That makes me feel better.”
Trying to find out where, exactly, this room was located, Thalia walked to one of the windows. It looked out over a river, but was it the Whiteadder or the Tweed? “Let’s go out the door and try to find our way back to the hall.”
“Oh, my lady,” the older maid said. “I wouldn’t do that. It’s not easy. And I wouldn’t want you gettin’ lost.”
“Come, Thalia.” Laia took her arm. “We can go back through the chapel.”
“Very well.” Thalia smiled at the maids. “Thank you for warning us.”
They bobbed curtseys. “You’re welcome, my lady.”
They went back into the wardrobe and down the stairs. Thalia knew that look on her sister’s face. She had seen it a lot when Euphrosyne was attempting to escape from Somerset Castle. “What are you thinking?”
Holding the candle up, she stared into Thalia’s eyes. “I think you know. The only reason to find the ends of the tunnels is to plan an escape if you need to.”
“You are right. That’s exactly what I was doing.” What happened to her sister had made her extremely wary of the duke. “I think that room is my best option. We are likely to be found in the other places.”
“I think that is a good decision.” Her sister linked arms with her. “I hope you don’t need it.”
THAT EVENING, as Giles and Thalia’s family gathered in the family drawing room, Berwick’s butler entered. “The Duke of Somerset has arrived.”
“I didn’t expect him until much later.” Berwick rose. “Bring him to my study in about five minutes, not sooner.” The butler bowed. “Giles, lead everyone up the back staircase and be as quiet as possible. I don’t think you’ll be heard, but there is no sense in tempting fate.”
“Come with me.” Giles motioned them out the door and toward the back of the house and the servant’s stairs. When they reached the second floor, he lit the wall sconce. “Meet here at quarter before nine. There is a way to get to the chapel without being seen from the East wing of the house.”
As soon as he escorted Thalia to her bedchamber, he planned to go down and listen to the conversation Berwick and Somerset would be having. But Thalia didn’t stand aside and allow Giles to open the door for her. Instead, she leaned back against it.
“What are you planning?” she asked.
How the devil did she know he was planning anything? “I am going to kiss you goodnight.” Unfortunately, it didn’t come out like a definitive and slightly rakish statement. It came out as a question.
“I fully expect that you will kiss me, but that is not what I am referring to.”
A muffled laugh sounded behind him. “You might as well tell her.”
Bloody hell-hounds! “I’m going down to listen in on the conversation.”
Thalia’s normally nicely rounded chin turned mulish. “I am coming with you.”
“We are as well.” Hawksworth was leaning against the opposite wall with Guy.
Arguing with them would take too long, and he’d probably lose anyway. “Fine. Just be quiet.”
He led them across the stair landing and opened a door that led to a corridor and some stairs. He took his shoes off as he reached another corridor and waited while the others did the same, then made his way to the end of the passage, where he pushed back a small cover that hid a peep hole.
Standing in front of him, Thalia immediately stood on her toes, looked, and put her hand up to her mouth. Her brother gently moved her aside for his own look, then let Bolton have a chance.
“Painting?” he mouthed.
Giles nodded. His uncle’s desk stood to one side of the peephole so that he could see both Berwick’s and Somerset’s faces. Each man had a glass of brandy, and a set of documents lay on the table between them.
“Damn coach,” Somerset complained. “I was at the next inn before the groom caught up to me and told me my secretary was stuck.”
“It doesn’t matter, unless you want to change anything.” Berwick took a small sip of brandy. “If not, I have it all here.” He covered his mouth as he yawned. “We can wait to sign them until morning.”
“No point. I’d rather get it over with.”
Thalia scowled as her father practically rubbed his hands together with greed.
“What time did you say the wedding was?”
“Eleven o’clock.” Berwick moved the pen set toward the center of the table as if he didn’t care if the contract was signed now or not.
Somerset picked up the pen, dipped it in the standish, signed the document, and rose. “I’d like to be shown to my apartments now.”
Leaning back, Berwick tugged the bell pull, and his butler entered. “Your Grace?”
“Please show His Grace to his chamber.”
Giles could feel the breaths of those around him. When Somerset rose, Thalia, her brother, and brother-in-law stopped breathing, as if they were afraid the man would demand that Berwick sign the settlements now.
Rising, the duke inclined his head. “I look forward to tomorrow.”
“As do I,” Berwick said. “As do I.”
The door to the study closed, and they all sighed with relief. A few moments later, Berwick said, “Kendal you can come out now, and bring the others with you.”
Thalia’s eyes flew to his. “How did he know?”
Kendal looked at the men with them. “I think he’s had enough time to take your measure, all of your measures.” He unbolted the door. “Well done, sir.”
“Thalia, my dear, there is wine and brandy on the sideboard. Please pour for everyone. Kendal, sign this blasted document.” Berwick fixed a hard look on Hawksworth. “I hope you’re right about this.”
Ever the former colonel, Hawksworth held his own counsel, but accepted the wine his sister handed him and drank deeply.
“I hope so too, sir.” Bolton nodded his thanks and took a glass from her.
Kendal didn’t know his future father-in-law well. In fact, they were barely on nodding terms. But from what he did know, poor Berwick would be hard pressed to entertain the man until eleven tomorrow. “How are you going to keep him busy? You can’t have him running around the house by himself.”
“No. He will be escorted wherever he goes, and diverted if need be. First, he’ll be informed that I do not rise until nine of the clock and will not be available until ten. During that time, he will be served breakfast in his room. A footman will remain with him.” He looked at Giles. “The rest of you will break your fast in your bedchambers as well. I’ll not take the chance that he’ll go wandering and find you.”
“Yes, sir.” Kendal took the glass Thalia handed him. “Where shall Thalia and I go after the ceremony?”
A smile broke out on Berwick’s face. “Let your bride show you.”
She stopped with her glass of wine almost at her lips. “I beg your pardon?”
“I am told you spoke to some of my maids earlier.”
A deep flush painted her cheeks a rosy red. “I did not mean to bother them.”
“You didn’t. But you almost ruined the surprise I have planned. I’ll warrant Kendal doesn’t remember where the individual tunnels lead. Take him to the room you visited. ”
That was true. He remembered the ends, but not which crypts led to which destination. “I shall happily follow where you lead, my love.”
“You’ve done it now.” Guy groaned. “None of them forget what one has said in a moment of passion.”
A wicked grin formed on Hawksworth. “The diamonds?”
“Yes.” Guy drained his glass. “There is a mercenary streak in your family.”
Thalia raised one brow, and in a tone worthy of a duchess said, “You must simply not promise things you do not intend to give.”
“They learn quickly as well.” Guy filled his glass again.
Kendal had been counting on that. For more than one reason.
CHAPTER 8
THALIA HAD SEEN and heard enough to know that tomorrow’s bedding would have to be quick. When she and her sisters returned from the tunnels, she had searched for Meg and found her in her parlor playing with Giffard.
“I need to know—”
“Wait a moment. Nurse, please take Giffard for a short walk.”
The older woman picked him up. “Let’s go exploring and find some biscuits.”
When the door closed, Meg said, “What is it that you need to know?”
“What goes on between”—Thalia took a breath. This was much harder than she had thought it would be—“a man and a woman. I have asked my sisters, but even Euphrosyne turns red and sputters.”
“I’ll have to speak to them about that,” Meg mused. “It is clear that Kendal loves you and you love him. Most of what you need to know your husband will show you. Marital congress is meant to be very pleasurable. The part for which you need to be prepared is when he enters you.”
Thalia already knew about some of the pleasurable parts, thanks to that evening under the tree, but entering her? “I do not understand.”
“A man has an appendage. We shall call it a member. It becomes hard when he is aroused. You might have felt it when you were kissing Kendal.”
She had felt a hard ridge pressing against her when they were under the tree. “Is it like a thick stick?”
“Exactly.” Meg smiled. “That is his member. It is that part of him that goes in the place from which you bleed when you have your courses.”
“That is the reason it is painful.”
“If the man is skilled and not selfish, it will hurt only the first time. Your sheath is meant to be able to stretch.” Meg looked at Thalia as if to make sure she comprehended what would occur. “It will take time for him to make you ready.”
“I think I understand. You are saying the first time should not be hurried.”
“Yes. The first time you have marital congress, he should go slowly.”
That would not be the case if they were hurrying to meet the Scottish marriage requirements for consummation. “Thank you. I know what I must do.”
Studying her Meg frowned slightly, and Thalia hoped her sister-in-law had not guessed what she planned. “If you have any other questions, please come to me.”
She summoned a smile. “You have been very helpful, and I shall. Thank you.”
Now, holding Giles’s hand as they made their way back through the passage, she knew that if she wanted her first time to be pleasant, she must take the bull by his horns, as the saying went.
Her brother and Guy went their own ways when they gained the corridor. At the door to her bedchamber, she held Giles close and whispered, “Come to me when you have readied yourself for bed.”
Giles searched her eyes, and she hoped he found her conviction in them. “Are you certain? We will not be married until morning.”
“Yes. I am perfectly sure this is the right course of action.”
He hugged her tightly. “Give me thirty minutes.”
That would be just long enough for her to ready herself and dismiss her maid. “I shall see you soon.”
Thalia walked into her bedchamber, but her maid was not there as she usually was. Something that sounded like a sob came from the dressing room, and she opened the door. Mannering was crying as if someone had died. “What is it? What is wrong?”
“Oh, my lady!” She lifted her head, and Thalia saw a red handprint on her maid’s cheek. “Your father’s man, Sittle, said that if I didn’t spy on you, I’d be dismissed without a reference. I told him I didn’t care, that I owed my loyalty to you, just like your mother said when she hired me. Then he hit me and said I’d be sorry if I didn’t do what he told me to.”
Thalia’s hands clenched into fists as rage flooded her. How dare anyone abuse her servant? “I will not allow him to harm you. However, you must make your choice. Come with me when I marry, or stay in my father’s house.”
Her maid’s eyes were red, but the tears had stopped. “My lady, I want to come with you.”
“Let me ensure you have a safe place to sleep tonight.” She tugged the bell pull twice, and the under-butler soon appeared.
He bowed. “My lady, how may I help you?”
“Miss Mannering has been threatened by one of my father’s servants, by the name of Sittle. The man is a lecher and is violent.” Thalia pointed to her maid’s cheek. “I must ensure she has a safe place to sleep this evening and can come to me freely tomorrow morning.”
The man’s eyes flashed with anger. “Give me a little while, and I will have a solution.”
He almost stomped out, and the door clicked behind him. “Come help me change and get ready for bed. I shall want my robe as well.”
Giles arrived at the same time as the under-butler returned. “What’s going on?”
She took Giles by the hand and pulled him into her room. “My maid was attacked by one of my father’s servants.”
He looked at the under-butler. “Do you have a solution?”
“Your Grace, a chamber is being prepared for Miss Mannering. I shall post a guard outside of it to see that she is not bothered and to escort her to her ladyship in the morning.”
“Very well. Have her here at seven.”
“Yes, Your Grace. I have also locked the person in his chamber until morning. Do you have a suggestion as to when we should release him?”
A slow, wicked smile formed on Giles’s firm, well-molded lips, and a glint appeared in his eyes. “When Somerset is ready to depart, and not an instant before. I want him escorted by at least two footmen out of the house and not allowed to return.”
Thalia had never seen a servant look so—so—satisfied was the only word she could think of. Her father would have to be quiet about Sittle, as well as being duped over the settlement papers and wedding, or look like a fool.
“Do I have your permission to subdue the blackguard if he resists?”
If anything, her betrothed’s smile grew. “By all means. Do whatever is necessary. We cannot allow cravens such as him to prey upon women.”
The under-butler bowed. “Just so, Your Grace. I shall take the liberty of informing the rest of the senior staff.”
“Good man.” Giles looked at Mannering. “Go with Hamish. You’ll be safe.”
“Yes, do.” Thalia squeezed her maid’s shoulder. “You will be protected, and I shall see you in the morning.”
“Thank you, my lady.” Her maid curtseyed before leaving the chamber, but not before giving Thalia a curious look.
Giles closed the door. “Now, my love. Tell me what this is about. I thought we had agreed to wait.”
She did not know how to be a seductress, but she did know how to be herself and that he wanted her. Thalia gazed into his eyes, while she placed her hands on his strong chest and pushed his banyan off his shoulders. “I occurred to me that we will not have much time tomorrow to do more than quickly consummate our marriage.” He stood in a nightshirt that revealed a deep V of dark, curling hair. “I have been told enough to realize that a quick coupling is likely to be unsatisfactory for my first time.” She undid the four buttons that were fastened and spread the fabric apart. “Therefore, after due consideration, I decided that tonight we would have more time to engage in marital congress.”
He pushed her robe off her shoulders, and it fell to the floor. “How very wise of you, my love.” Giles pressed his lips to her neck and lightly sucked the skin beneath her ear. Her breasts grew heavy, and the place between her legs began to ache. “How did I get so lucky?”
“I do not know.” His fingers grazed her nipples, and she wanted to melt into him. “That feels so good.”
“Not as good as the rest of it’s going to feel.” He drew his nightshirt over his head and lifted the hem of her nightgown.
The next moment, they were naked. Bare skin reveled in touching bare skin. His hand skated over her back and derrière, and she caressed him in the same way. “Will it feel as good as under the tree?”
She had never seen a male body. Not even a picture. All the books with drawings of Greek and Roman statues had been removed from the library at home. But if Giles was any sort of representation, the male body was magnificent, all bones, sinew, and hard muscle covered by taut skin and dark hair. He growled as he sucked first one nipple, then the other, into his mouth, and it was all she could do not to scream with pleasure.
“Blast the tree. It will be better. As good as I can make it for you.” Lifting her into his arms, he carried her to the bed and gently placed her down before crawling in and covering her with his body.
His fingers discovered her core, she sucked in a breath, and the next thing she knew his mouth was on hers, covering her moans. The same tension she’d felt before grew, and this time she knew to let it take her on its wave of pleasure. She hadn’t finished convulsing when he entered her, and then stopped. There was a brief instant of pain, and then fullness.
“Thalia, my love. Are you all right?” Opening her eyes, she could see his concern.
“I am. I am fine.” He stayed where he was, not moving, and she lifted her hips. Or rather, her hips rose on their own.
That seemed to be enough for him to plunge more deeply into her body. She felt stretched and conquered, but she liked it. Nay, more than that. She finally knew what it was to be one with a man. With Giles. The tension she wanted grew again, and when she splintered, he groaned and plunged even more deeply into her, then collapsed, rolling off to the side, and pulling her next to him.
KENDAL’S HEART was beating so hard that he was surprised it didn’t wake the entire floor. He’d never experienced anything like making love to Thalia. Her small hand pressed lightly on his chest, and he pulled her on top of him. “Was it bearable?”
“More than bearable.” She smiled as he gathered her hair and put it to one side. “I have never felt anything so amazing.”
He wanted to believe her, but he’d heard the gasp of pain when he’d breached her maidenhead. “But I caused you pain.”
She lowered her lips to his. “It wasn’t as bad as I expected it to be. More like being stuck with a thorn.”
“A thorn?” He tried to decide if that was lowering, then decided it didn’t matter. As long as she was happy, he was as well. “Thorns are very painful.” He rolled them onto their sides. “But not too painful?”
She grinned against his cheek. “Not the way you did it.”
Leaning back, she frowned. “Are you looking for a compliment or trying to make yourself feel better?”
“Neither. I’m trying to make sure you want to do this again.” And again, and again, and again until they were old and gray.
“I do want to do this again. But I am a little sore, so we might have to wait until after we are married.”
“I wish I could call for a bath for you now.” He rose. “I’ll be right back.”
He walked behind the screen and found a basin with a piece of linen and cold water. Dipping the cloth into the water, he went back to the bed, and pressed the damp coolness at her core, hoping to ease the pain.
“That feels good.”
“I hoped it would.” Now to get rid of any sign that they had anticipated their vows. He rinsed out the linen and tossed the bloodied water out of the open window.
“What are you doing?”
“Saving your maid from embarrassment tomorrow.” The woman had suffered enough. She did not need to feel that what he and Thalia had done was her fault in any manner.
“I do not understand.”
He climbed back into bed and wrapped his arms around her. “You bled when your maidenhead was torn. I’ll have my valet take the sheet to whichever room we will go to after the wedding, as proof of consummation, but no one will know that you were no longer a virgin when we married.”
“Is that important?” Her expression was adorably confused. “Both my sisters anticipated their vows.” She frowned. “Although it caused difficulties for one of them.”
That was one way of putting it. “Normally, no. It doesn’t matter. But I have a feeling that it might for us.” He gazed at her, his heart never fuller than it was now. “Let’s not take any chances.”
“Tempting fate?” Her eyes were wide and worried.
“In a manner of speaking.” A sudden chill swooped down his back.
Kendal nestled Thalia’s back against his chest. With her in his arms, he slept better than he ever remembered sleeping.
A noise woke him—the sound of feet shuffling outside the door. What the devil was going on?
Then Thalia’s maid stepped into the bedchamber through the dressing room. “Hurry, come with me into the passageway.”
Thalia was still fast asleep. “Both of us?”
“Yes, Your Grace. You mustn’t be found in her room.”
That was a good point.
She awoke as he lifted her. “Your maid is waiting for us.”
Thankfully, she didn’t waste time asking questions, but headed immediately toward the servant. They entered the passage by way of a hidden door in the dressing room. Thankfully, one of the previous dukes hadn’t wished the servants to be running around the main house, and the place was riddled with secret ways in and out of the rooms. “Where are we going?”
“I’m taking her to another chamber. When she’s safe, I’ll tell Lady Hawksworth where she is.”
“Very well. I shall go to my room and change. Are the servant’s stairs still safe?”
“No, Your Grace.” A footman Kendal hadn’t noticed before spoke. “We will need to use the passages to make our way to the chapel.”
“Cellars?” That would be the easiest way.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
He hugged Thalia. “I’ll meet you down there. Go with them. I shall see you soon.”
Kendal rushed back into the bedchamber and grabbed the blood-stained sheet. Once back in the passage, he turned in the direction opposite to the one Thalia had taken and exited into his room.
Hearing pounding and voices in the corridor, Kendal dropped the sheet on a chair, pulled on a pair of trousers, then stepped through his door. Four men in Somerset livery were standing outside of Thalia’s bedchamber. One of them looked as if he was preparing to break the door down. In his most dukely voice said, “What the devil are you doing?”
Two of the footmen flushed red, and another slumped back against the wall, but the fourth one said, “We are to bring Lady Thalia to the Duke of Somerset.”
“You can go to perdition. I don’t care if you came from King George. You will leave now and not return, or I’ll have you all thrown into the dungeons until your master is ready to depart.”
Hamish the under-butler came around the corner from the main staircase. “Your Grace, may I be of service?”
“Remove these interlopers.”
Kendal wanted to laugh when the under-butler snapped his fingers smartly, and at least ten footmen came rushing over. “Remove these men.”
“Where would you like them put, Your Grace?”
He felt a particular glee in giving the order, “The dungeons.”
Hamish bowed. “As you wish, Your Grace.”
The rest of Thalia’s family piled into the corridor, and Hawksworth raised a brow. “What is going on?”
“Your father’s servants were attempting to gain access to Lady Thalia’s bedchamber.” Kendal watched a scowl form on her brother’s face. “They are being taken to the dungeons.”
Hawksworth turned a malevolent look toward Somerset’s footmen. “I cannot think of a better place for them.” Once the servants had been taken away, he glanced at Hamish. “See if you can get their names. When I eventually become Somerset, I will not have them work for me.”
“I will do my best, my lord.” Hamish turned to Kendal. “Will there be anything else?”
“Keep a guard on this part of the house.”
The corner of the under-butler’s mouth tipped up, as if he knew no one would be here any longer, and the guard was a ruse. “It will be done.”
“Where is Thalia?” Laia asked.
Of course they would all be concerned. “Safe elsewhere. I suggest we all dress and meet back here. I’ll lead you to the chapel.”
“There are things we need to give her before you marry,” Euphrosyne said.
He raked his hand through his hair. “I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t even know where she is.”
CHAPTER 9
THALIA FOUND herself in the same bedchamber she and her sisters had discovered yesterday. Now the only question was what was she going to wear to her wedding?
Mannering joined her. “If you come with me, there is a bathing chamber through that door.”
The room was tiled and had a fully tiled stove that went from the floor to the ceiling as well as a large bathtub. She had read about this from the accounts of travelers, but she had never thought to see one. “Does that pump bring hot water?”
“Yes, my lady.”
In much less time than it would have taken if servants had carried in hot water, she was in the tub soaking.
About the time the water was cooling, her maid returned. “I went to your old chamber and brought the gown Lady Hawksworth planned for you to wear to your wedding.” A pained expression crossed Mannering’s face. “Your sisters, aunt, and Lady Hawksworth insisted on coming with me.”
As Thalia got out of the bath and wrapped herself in a flannel robe, she couldn’t help but laugh. “I want a house with secret passages.”
“I have to say,” her aunt said entering the bathing chamber, “I have been trying to come up with a way to put them I our house.”
“I have as well,” Laia said.
“It is amazingly practical,” Euphrosyne said.
“I think Somerset castle already has them.” Meg’s brows came together. “At least I am sure that’s what your brother said.”
“I’ve never seen them. But how did you know where I was?”
“It was easy.” Meg fluttered her fingers as if anything she wished would appear. “I sent one of my maids to keep watch in your old bedchamber until your maid returned. You might like to know that every servant Somerset has sent to pester you has been locked in the dungeon.”
“That is the best thing that could happen to them.” Thalia had no sympathy for the men who had lost or misplaced their sense of what was right and did her father’s dirty work.
“I just wish I knew what he is thinking,” her aunt said. “He must have a feeling something is going wrong with his plan.”
The other murmured their agreement.
“I believe some sort of sustenance is to be brought to us and tea.” The way Laia said “tea” sounded as if she would perish without it.
An hour later, Thalia was dressed in the yellow gown she had not worn yesterday, and her maid was putting up her hair.
Euphrosyne handed Mannering two silver combs with pearls. “Can you find a place for these?” Euphrosyne’s smiling eyes met Thalia’s in the mirror. “They are new.”
Laia opened up her hand to reveal sapphire hairpins. “And I would like to give you these pins. They are blue.”
Her aunt moved to stand behind Thalia. “This necklace is very old, but I think it will suit.” Aunt clasped pearls and sapphires around Thalia’s neck.
Meg lifted Thalia’s arm and slipped on two silver bracelets. “These are borrowed.”
“My darling girl,” her aunt said. “It is time to go the chapel.”
They made their way down a different branch in the passageway—how many paths ended in that chamber?—and found themselves in the room that led to the chapel’s office.
“My ladies and Your Grace.” Mr. Kennedy’s smile included all of them. “I understand some unwelcome events have occurred this morning, but here we are. His Grace of Kendal and the other gentlemen are waiting.”
Thalia and her sisters and aunt followed the vicar to the nave. Giles came straight to her and took her hands. “Let’s marry.”
“Yes.” Before her father did anything else.
Remembering that her mother would be in the balcony, she said her vows in a firm, strong voice. When Giles promised to worship her body, heat rose in her cheeks, and she heard light laughter from the pews. As soon as the rector pronounced them man and wife and they had signed the register, she took his hand. “Come with me.” Thalia lifted the lever in a stone box and they were through the entrance before she heard her father cursing.
“That was close.” Giles took the lead up the stairs. “I’d forgotten where this went.”
“I am glad it was the closest one to the nave.”
They burst into a room, and Giles closed the door from the passageway and barred it, then did the same with the door to the rest of the house.
She turned her back to him so that he could unlace her gown. “Where are we in the manor?”
“I’m not exactly sure. I’ve never left this chamber except through the passage to the chapel.”
Her bodice sagged, and she turned around and started to untie his cravat. “I must say you looked very elegant.”
He threw the length of linen over his shoulder and pushed down her gown. “And you were exquisite. How do you manage to become more beautiful every day?”
He kissed her neck, and her stays dropped down. “The same way you become more handsome.”
Soon all their clothing was somewhere else in the room, and they were in bed. “Well, wife.” His eyes were silver and full of love. “Shall we make this marriage legal?”
“Yes.” Thalia drew him down to her and kissed him deeply.
He kissed and caressed her until she was begging to be taken, and this time she reveled in him entering her. They cried out together when they came. He stayed on top of her as their hearts thrummed, and she wanted to stay like this forever.
But someone knocked on the door.
Giles groaned. “When I get you to Kendal, I’m not letting anyone interrupt us.” He rolled off her, and she pulled the covers up. “Who is it?”
“Tiller, my lord.”
“My valet,” Giles told Thalia. “What do you want?”
The man cleared his throat, and she could imagine him turning red. “Your Grace, the Duke of Somerset wishes to see the bloodied sheet.”
Thalia bit her lip. “The cur! I cannot believe he would demand such a thing. If you had not insisted on keeping the sheet, he’d say we weren’t married.”
Now all he had to do was find the damn thing. “I think I left it in my bedchamber.” His beloved wife glared at him. He asked Tiller, “Where is the sheet I brought in this morning?”
For several seconds there was silence. “I sent it to be laundered, Your Grace.”
Giles lost any patience he possessed and bellowed, “Find the blasted thing now and bring it here, and it had better not have been cleaned!” He lay back against the pillows. “I can’t believe this. Why in the name of heaven would he have done that?”
“Did you tell him not to? His job includes insuring things are clean.”
“No. It never occurred to me.” He threw his arm over his eyes. “I’m going to have to run away with you and keep you hidden until you’re obviously with child.”
Their situation was dire, but Thalia had to smother her laugh. “Perhaps it will not be that bad.”
Another knock came on the door. “My lady, I mean, Your Grace,” Mannering said. “Do you wish to dress?”
Thalia glanced at her husband. “I suppose I should, but first, can you please help Tiller find the sheet from my bed last night?”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
For the moment, they were alone again, and she felt so sorry for her husband having to deal with her father. “It will be all right. I might be breeding even now.”
Giles rolled over and held her. “The only thing that’s important is that we are together.”
“I agree.” Trying to cheer him, she said, “If need be, I know the way from the chapel to the cottage.”
“You are a remarkable woman, and I could not be happier that you are mine.”
“I am.” Leaning over, she kissed him. “Forever.”
Sometime later, his valet and her maid knocked on the door and were given permission to enter.
“We found the sheet,” Mannering said. “It was not washing day.”
That was a blessing.
“We have your clothing,” his valet said. “You are wanted in the Duke of Berwick’s study.”
They dressed and made their way to Berwick. Kendal was not surprised to find Thalia’s brothers and brothers-in-law there as well as her sisters. What did surprise him was the way in which his wife addressed her father.
“Somerset, what is the meaning of this?” She stood just out of arm’s reach of her father. “To demand the bedding to prove I am married, that is outside of enough.” She pointed a finger at him. “I trust you have seen it and are satisfied that I am no longer a virgin.” Her brothers and sisters quickly masked their shocked looks. “I am waiting for an answer.”
The man’s mouth worked as if he was having trouble responding. “I never gave you permission to marry Kendal.”
Thalia raised one brow and her chin, and Kendal almost started clapping. “Indeed? That was not what I was told. Did you not sign the settlement agreements?”
The old man started to grab them off the desk, but Berwick beat him to it. “He did.” Holding the documents out, he read, His Grace the Duke of Somerset agrees with His Grace the Duke of Kendal that a marriage shall take place between Lady Thalia Somerset and the Duke of Kendal . . .”
Somerset lunged at Berwick and Kendal caught the man. “Don’t do it. You signed the contract. Whether you meant to or not is not at issue. She is now my wife. You will look like a fool if you attempt to repudiate our marriage.”
Shaking with rage, Somerset pointed at Hawksworth. “You knew about this.”
“Of course I did.” His son’s face was as cold as the father’s usually was. “But you signed the contract. You couldn’t wait to sign it even when Berwick suggested you wait until morning. I am a witness.”
“How?” Somerset demanded. “You weren’t even in the room.”
“Not in the room, but we saw everything from where we were.” Kendal released the old duke, and Thalia placed her hand on his arm. “I witnessed it as well. You did not even care that the other signature wasn’t on the contract. I signed it immediately after you left. Thalia is my wife, and I will not allow you or your tools to interfere with her or me in any way.” Her father’s cold blue eyes glared at Kendal, and he glared back. “I suggest you depart. Immediately. The rest of us have a wedding breakfast to attend.”
“Father”—she said as they turned to leave the study—“I wish you well.”
“Where is my wife?” Somerset raged. “Did she know about this?”
“No.” Laia stepped forward. “Mary has not been well, and my mother has been helping to nurse her. She knew nothing. She will no doubt be as shocked as you are.”
He stalked out of the room followed by two of Berwick’s footmen, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
“It’s done.” Kendal said. “I see now why you take such precautions to protect the duchess.”
“If he knew what she was doing,” Meg said, “he’d refuse to allow her to see the younger children and send her to some remote estate.”
“Come.” Guy took his wife’s arm. “We have reason to celebrate. Do we not?”
“Yes.” Giles glanced at Thalia. “I certainly do.”
Her eyes shone with love. “I do as well.”
“I have a question,” Guy said as he escorted Laia away. “Do you really still have dungeons?”
“We do indeed,” Berwick said. “One never knows when there will be another uprising.”
“I think Sittle should be prosecuted.” Thalia had a militant look in her eyes, and Kendal was not going to argue with her. She was turning into a formidable lady.
“I agree,” Euphrosyne said. “He was the one who tried to stop my marriage.”
Markville scowled. “Perhaps we should put him on a ship to the Antipodes.”
Somerset departed within the hour with a reduced number of servants. The next day, Kendal arranged for Sittle to indeed be shipped to the Antipodes.
Five days later, Kendal handed his duchess out of the coach and introduced her to their staff. He’d never been so happy in his life.
One month later.
THALIA STROLLED THROUGH THE GALLERY, looking at family paintings, and came across one of Kendal with his dead wife and daughter. “Is that Lillian?”
“Yes.” His arm was already around her, but he needed her closer. “We can put it in the attic if you wish.”
“No, why would I want you to do that? You had a beautiful daughter, and you loved her. That is how it should be.” Thalia turned and kissed him. “We will never forget her.” She placed her hand on her stomach. “And we will not let our children forget her either.”
His throat closed, and his heart couldn’t be fuller. “You’re going to have a baby?”
“No.” She smiled in her gentle way, but her tone was firm. “We are going to have a baby.”
AUTHOR NOTES
The fabric tulle is actually from the French town of Tulle and debuted in 1818.
The year 1819 was, in general, a cold year in England. A severe frost struck as far south as the Forest of Dean and into southern Scotland. This caused crops to fail and added to the hunger and misery started by the extreme cold in 1816 from which England had not recovered. The Corn Laws made the situation much worse as imported grain was out of the reach of most of the population. In August of 1819, there was a large protest against the government’s policies was in the process of taking place when the local militia charged resulting in the Peterloo Massacre.
There was actually a Duke of Berwick-upon-Tweed. He was the illegitimate son of James II. Although, the English title is extinct, the title of Berwick is carried on in a Spanish line.
Dukely really is a word. It dates to the early 19th century.
We don’t think much of dowries now, but they were very important, many helped to support a lady’s younger sons, some became part of her widow’s portion, and they could also be put in trust for the lady’s use. They also gave a lady a sense of worth.
If you are interested in Hawksworth’s obsession with food, or any of the other references in the book regarding other family members, please read the other Trevor books and Miss Featherton’s Christmas Prince, part of my Marriage Game series.
And finally, those of you who read my books with notice that Your Grace, for example, capitalized where it should not be. That was the majority decision of the group.
If you haven’t already, please join me on Facebook at www.facebook.com/EllaQuinnAuthor and join my mailing list either through the Facebook Link or at www.ellaquinnauthor.com. You can also follow me on BookBub at https://www.bookbub.com/authors/ella-quinn. I look forward to meeting you!
HOW TO DITCH A DUKE
JULY
MAY MCGOLDRICK
PREFACE
Lady Taylor Fleming is an heiress with a suitor on her tail. Her step-by-step plan to ditch him is simple. But there is nothing simple about Franz Aurech, Duke of Bamberg. When Taylor tries to escape to sanctuary in the Highlands, her plans become complicated when the duke arrives at her door and her loyal allies desert her. But even with the best laid plans, things can go awry…
CHAPTER 1
How to Ditch A Duke
– Step 1 –
Neglect Your Appearance in Important Situations
April, 1820
Angus, The Scottish Highlands
LADY TAYLOR FLEMING stood with her maid a few yards off from the stranded coach-and-four. The hard downpours had eased to a miserable, drenching rain, and water had long ago soaked through her boots. She was chilled to the bone. From the sound of the teeth chattering next to her, Taylor knew her maid wasn’t faring any better. She took the satchel, allowing the older woman to warm her hands.
A thick grey cloud had been chasing them since she and her family left the Lowlands. The accident could not have happened at a worse place, for the chance of help arriving anytime soon was unlikely. She’d traveled this road a hundred times, and she knew there wasn’t a crofter or a village for miles. They were stuck.
They’d needed to leave Edinburgh. Sporadic outbreaks of violence had followed the social protest assemblies earlier in the week, and the clashes had spooked her father. The weavers’ guilds and other reform groups had been shutting down business in cities from Manchester to Glasgow to Edinburgh to Aberdeen, and the authorities were retaliating everywhere with military force to suppress the voices of protesters. When a pitched battle had spread to a hospital surgery near the university, killing a doctor, it had been the last straw.
Their escape had hardly been an easy one, but the sodden road going west toward the family hunting lodge had been a nightmare ever since they left the coach road at Montrose. Then, nearly an hour ago, a rear wheel slid into the ditch. They’d been fortunate the carriage didn’t turn over, but the wretched thing was sunk in the mud up to the axle.
So now, they were marooned on an isolated road in the Highlands.
“Lift the blasted thing. Put your backs into it.”
The querulous voice was getting on everyone’s nerves. The men were trying. Taylor looked from the driver, urging the tired horses, to the two grooms and the pair of valets struggling to keep their footing in the cold muck. Her father and brother stood beneath the solitary oak tree beside the road. The Earl of Lindsay and Viscount Clay. Both men were completely ignorant of how much horse and manpower it took to move the heavy weight of a carriage from a predicament such as this. But that didn’t stop the incessant directions.
“Lighten the load, you fools!”
The trunks and other luggage were sitting in a pile, having been unloaded immediately after the accident. Taylor seethed as her father continued to berate the men.
“Lay a whip to those horses. This is no Sunday ride in the park. Show them who is master.”
Her skin burned with irritation. Incessant harassment was the earl’s standard response whenever things didn’t go as he wished. As the only daughter, Taylor had been on the receiving end of his carping for as long as she could remember. Since her mother’s death seven years ago, however, she’d learned that the secret to dealing with him was to keep her distance when she could manage it and pay no heed to him when she couldn’t. Of course, her aptitude when it came to investing and managing their money played in her favor too. So long as she took care of her father’s and brother’s expenses and didn’t bother them about their exorbitant spending, a fragile peace was maintained.
“Blast you all! We don’t want to be out here all day.”
The men’s faces were streaked and spattered with mud, and their clothes were soaked and filthy. They continued to push as the driver pressed his tired team. The horses snorted and pulled, and the carriage groaned and rocked dangerously, but a moment later the contraption settled back where it was. They were getting nowhere.
They needed help.
Just then, one of valets, a slight, middle-aged man, slipped and went down, sliding into the roadside ditch.
“Get up, man. Come out of there this instant, or you’ll feel my cane.”
That was all she could take. Taylor peeled off her gloves and handed them, along with the satchel, to her maid. As she stalked toward the tree, the muck sucked at her shoes and her cloak dragged behind her, but she didn’t care.
“Help them, Clay,” Taylor ordered when she reached them. “We’ll never get out of here without extra help for the men.”
Her brother, standing beside the earl, gazed into the distance, pretending not to hear her.
“Push harder. Lift!” The earl shouted a string of curses when the valet was too slow in regaining his place.
“The horses and the men are tired,” Taylor said to her brother. The rain continued to beat down on her, but neither man shifted an inch to make room for her under the tree’s branches. “They’re no closer to moving the carriage than they were an hour ago.”
She wanted to shake Clay. He continued to disregard her, brushing water droplets from his cloak.
“Don’t ignore me,” Taylor persisted. “You need to go out there and help them.”
“You must be daft.” He glared at her. “Help them how?”
“Lend a hand. Help push the carriage onto the roadway.”
“No bloody chance of that. I’m wet enough as it is.”
She hated to admit it, but her brother was becoming more and more like their father every day. “We’re all wet. They need more muscle.”
“Have you forgotten my shoulder? The deuced thing will never heal if I don’t give it a rest.”
“You tripped climbing two steps six weeks ago, and it hasn’t stopped you from fencing at the club or rolling dice with your friends.”
“You’re a cold fish. You have no sympathy. No heart. You couldn’t care less about the pain I’ve endured.”
Taylor definitely had no patience for the drama that came part and parcel with every interaction with her brother. Four years older than Clay, she wasn’t his mother. She wasn’t his keeper. And she was tired of the jealousy that lay just beneath the skin of every comment he directed toward her. During arguments, he made no attempt to veil his hostility and resentment. She knew the source of his antipathy. Over five years ago, her mother’s brother had left a fortune to Taylor. Not to his nephew, not to his brother-in-law, but to his niece. And any moment now, she knew Clay would bring up the topic.
“I wouldn’t even be here if you weren’t such a tight-fisted harridan. If you’d paid my way to Bath—”
“Save your complaining for another day. They need you now.” Taylor pointed at the men struggling in the storm. “Go.”
“I think not!” Clay shot back hotly, turning to the earl. “Father, speak to her. If you don’t curb her, she’ll have us driving the carriage ourselves.”
Lord Lindsay looked down his nose at her, at his son, and back again at Taylor.
“Look at you. You’re as tall as your brother. Wider in the shoulders. And you’re surely twice his weight. Too bad you’re not a man, because you’re hardly a woman.”
Her throat closed. Her eyes burned. Her skin flushed in anger. His barbs were nothing new. She’d been the target of his demeaning comments about her size and shape for all her adult life. During the years when she was paraded out in front of society’s eligible bachelors—only to be treated as if she were invisible to them—he’d have the same sharp jabs. She could ignore the scoffing efforts at wit from strangers, but not from her own kin. She could pretend her father’s gibes didn’t sting, but the hurt never went away.
Throwing the hood back and shedding her cloak, Taylor shoved it into Clay’s stomach and turned on her heel, moving down toward the carriage.
“What are you doing?” The earl’s shout followed her. “Come back here this instant.”
Tears escaped but immediately washed away, mingling with the droplets of the rain. She wouldn’t allow them to see her cry. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of knowing they could still hurt her. Her anger regarding their carelessness and lack of responsibility, they were accustomed to. Her temper, when unleashed, was the only thing they feared and respected. And in moments like this, she valued it, as it provided her with a shield.
One foot sank into the mud, followed by the other, as she trudged toward the carriage. With each step, she tried to silence the haranguing voices behind her and instead focus on the men who’d paused for breath. They were all staring as she approached.
“Shall we?” she asked, rolling up her sleeves to the elbows.
“M’lady, you shouldn’t.” The driver glanced uncertainly at his master and back at her.
She shook her head at his soft-spoken words. “I believe I should. Let’s do this now. Let’s show them how it’s done.”
Ignoring the murmurs of protest coming from the others, she put her shoulder against the rear of the vehicle. She braced her feet, and after a moment’s hesitation, the men returned to their places.
On three, the driver shouted his commands to the horses and they all pushed. But the carriage remained anchored in place.
Rain pelted down on them. At least, her father was silenced for the moment. Again, they threw their weight into the effort, and the neighing of the horses was accompanied by the grunts and muttered profanities of the men.
Her feet sank in the mud up to her ankles. The exertion wore on her. She wasn’t used to strenuous physical labor, but she persevered. Still, there was no movement. Her breath caught in her chest with the next push, and she tasted the saltiness of tears on her lips.
She knew nothing about pushing carriages out of a ditch. She’d hoped to stir some shred of guilt in her brother. One person in this family needed to demonstrate some semblance of moral fiber. One person needed to show some appreciation for the efforts of others. She was also down here slogging in the muck to send a message to her father that he couldn’t hurt her. His insults meant nothing. She was a woman. A strong, financially independent woman.
Taylor closed her eyes and focused on the task as they started again, but she was suddenly aware of the presence of a man behind her.
“If you please, step aside and allow me to help.”
She didn’t know who he was and where he came from, but she wasn’t about to give up her place.
“My lady, I can be far more effective if you give me room.” The voice carried the hint of an accent.
A stranger had stopped to rescue them while her family stood watching. She edged over a little, not about to leave her position at the back of the carriage. “We appreciate your help, sir.”
“If you were to rejoin your party beneath the tree—”
“I’m staying here, helping these men,” she said tensely.
The newcomer acquiesced and shouldered in beside her. They all pushed together, and the carriage inched forward. He had shed his coat, and his satin waistcoat was already dark with rain. The soaked sleeves of his shirt were plastered over muscled arms. His hands, latched securely onto the spoke of a wheel, were large.
“Let go.” He still hadn’t looked at her, and it was the tone of a man accustomed to being obeyed, but she continued to hold on.
“I can’t. I won’t.”
They all heaved again. She realized she was little more than an ornament in the process. Taylor felt the raw power exuding from the man. The earthy, masculine scent of leather and fresh air filled her head. His face was turned away, and she stared at his wide shoulders.
The next concerted effort caused the carriage to shift with a jerk as the wheel popped up onto the surface of the road. But as it did, Taylor fell and slid down the bank of the ditch into the muck and the runoff from the rain. The vehicle continued to move, and a cheer went up from the men.
Taylor pushed herself onto all fours. Her hands were deep in the mud, her knees sunk in it, and filthy brown water dripped from her chin.
Shame and embarrassment washed through her, more painful than any physical distress. Here she was, an earl’s daughter. One of the richest women in Scotland. While her mother was alive, Taylor had been doted on, loved, cherished. But those days were gone. Today was proof of it. Here, in the presence of a stranger on a storm-soaked Highland road, she was on her hands and knees, chilled and wet and bedraggled—an object of derision in the eyes of everyone. And to what end? Simply to prove a point to her selfish family about character.
Tall boots, caked in mud, and muscular legs encased in buckskin came into her view. The man crouched and held out his hand. The palm was callused. Another cold wave of humiliation washed through her.
“Allow me.”
“Thank you. I can do this by myself.”
“I know you can. But please allow me to help. You’d do the same for me.”
Somehow, she couldn’t picture him groveling on all fours in the muck.
He produced a handkerchief from his waistcoat.
She shook her head. “It would be ruined.”
“It’s only a bit of cloth, made for this purpose.”
She reluctantly accepted it and wiped her eyes. A dark blot of mud covered the fine fabric.
“I’m sorry; it’s stained already.” Embarrassment thickened her voice.
“That was clearly its destiny, fulfilled in the hand of the worthiest of women.”
His kindness tugged at her heart. Hearing his subtle accent and gentle words, she envisaged him as a prince on a fine horse in some far-off land, rescuing damsels in distress like herself. Beginning to think she might simply be imagining this man, Taylor tried to claw her way up the low bank, only to slip back down.
“Please, will you deny this fellow traveler the same happy fate as his handkerchief?”
“I’m covered with mud.”
“What’s a smudge here or a smudge there?”
Taylor shook her head, unable to stop a smile from forming on her lips. He was definitely trying to make light of the situation. Still, she wasn’t ready to face him—face anyone.
“If you had not taken the plunge, then the task would have fallen to me. In every rescue, one person must be sacrificed. And you bravely took on that role yourself. Allow me to show my gratitude.”
He wasn’t giving up. With a resigned sigh, she took his hand, and he began to pull her up.
“I think I can manage from…” Her words were lost as her feet flew out from beneath her and she collapsed against him.
“I’m certain you can.”
One cheek lay on his chest. Dirt smeared his waistcoat. She took the time to inhale his enthralling scent and appreciated the powerful muscles supporting her before slowly trying to push herself away. “That was unexpected.”
“I must confess, such unexpected outcomes are far more enjoyable than the….”
He slipped, and suddenly she was holding him up. His face was pressed against her breasts. His arms wrapped around her hips. She tried to help him to straighten up, but instead, he held on tighter. The ridiculousness of the moment was colossal. She wanted to laugh. And from the little that Taylor could see of his face, he was amused too.
When he got his feet under him, she let go at the same time that he did.
“I think I’ll be fine now,” she murmured. “If you’d be so kind as to…”
Suddenly, she was on her way down again, one leg heading for Aberdeen and the other toward Edinburgh. Somehow, she’d turned in his arms, and he was holding her up, his hands just beneath her breasts, squeezing her against him.
“My apologies.”
“Perfectly fine,” she managed to chirp. “Your intention was quite chivalrous.”
For the first time in her life, a man was touching her breasts, her bottom, every inch of her—front and back—but none of it was in the cause of romance.
She finally stood, and he released her. Taylor turned. Both of them now having regained their footing, she hazarded a glance. His shirt and waistcoat and trousers were as filthy as hers.
“I’m so sorry,” she murmured. “That was my fault.”
“Hardly. The pleasure was entirely mine, liebling.”
She heard the huskiness in his voice, but hers didn’t sound any better. She felt warm and tingly and excited, regardless of the ludicrous circumstances.
“You’re shivering. May I assist you into the carriage?”
Taylor was shivering. Too soon, reality had returned. She still hadn’t really looked him in the face, and she was embarrassed to do so now. But it couldn’t be avoided. And when she did, she wished the ground would open and swallow her entirely.
The stranger was beautiful, the embodiment of every woman’s dreams. Water glistened on the sharp planes of high cheekbones and a strong jaw. His lips were full, and his tanned and weathered skin indicated that he was a man who spent a great deal of time outdoors. His eyes had the grey-green hue that the sea took on in a storm. And they were focused on her.
Her skin warmed. A delicious knot formed in her belly. Taylor’s breath caught in her chest. She averted her gaze, staring at his lips. That was no help. Her heart drummed so loud against the walls of her chest that he had to hear it.
“You’ll catch a fever standing here in the cold. Please allow me to escort you to your carriage.”
She already had a fever, and it had nothing to do with the cold and the weather. “I’ll be fine. Thank you, but I can manage.”
She took an involuntary step back and nearly tumbled once again into the ditch.
He reached out and steadied her. His fingers lingered before letting go, and he offered his arm. “Wherever you wish to go, please allow me.”
“Thank you. You’re very kind.” She practically sighed the words. The truth was, she could have stood there looking into those eyes all day. “But I should be able to manage…now.”
Taylor carefully stepped across the soft ground and moved away from him. Her boots were heavy. Her dress sagged on her body. Her wet, filthy hair stuck to her face. She put one foot resolutely in front of the other, looking straight ahead as she passed the carriage. The grooms were already handing up the trunks to get underway.
Her father was calling from the direction of the tree. She passed a magnificent black stallion pawing the earth. A cloak and hat had been tossed onto the saddle. She didn’t slow down. She had to keep going. She had to disappear. She shut her ears to everything and forged onward.
Memories riffled through her mind like pages of a book open in the wind. Ballrooms. Standing on the edge of dance floors, hoping for a look, a glance, a flirtatious gesture. Like any other young woman, she’d wanted to be noticed. That wish had never been granted. Empty dance cards. No one even addressed her, let alone held her or called her liebling.
Her father had always been quick to identify everything that was wrong with her. Happy to enumerate why no suitors sent up their cards. Too tall. Too fat. Too pale. Too smart. Too outspoken. So, after two long, disastrous Seasons, she closed her heart. She needed no romance. It was too painful.
Taylor slipped as the road rose again, but she stayed upright. The rain-drenched Highland countryside blurred around her, but she continued on.
Fortunately, after two years with not even the hint of a suitor, she became an heiress. As a rich and independent woman, she was secure for the rest of her life.
With the money came attention. Her modest dowry had become a fortune, but she had no interest in a husband. She busied herself in the financial affairs of her family, visited her trusted friends, and ignored the social invitations that arrived every day.
At twenty-seven years old, Taylor thought she was immune to men.
Until this man. His chivalry. His strength. His kindness. His eyes. That liebling. And those absurd moments of clutching and falling and supporting each other in the mud.
Don’t be a fool, she told herself, picking up the hem of her dress and increasing the length of her stride.
“My lady. My lady, please stop.”
Her maid’s distressed call cut into her thoughts. Taylor waited until she caught up with her.
“You’re going to catch your death.”
Taylor took her cloak from the older woman, who proceeded to fuss over her in an attempt to make her presentable. Taylor knew it was a lost cause.
“They’re coming, my lady.”
Taylor glanced back down the hill and was surprised at how far she’d walked. She caught a glimpse of a cloaked man astride his black steed, riding away. As he disappeared around a bend in the distance, she felt oddly disconcerted, as if a beacon on the shore had suddenly vanished. He was here, and then he was gone.
The handkerchief was still miraculously clutched in her fist. She tucked it into her sleeve.
“His lordship said to wait. They’ll pick us up here.”
Taylor watched the men finish strapping down the luggage. Her father and Clay had to be inside already. She felt drained, exhausted. She was not looking forward to climbing into that carriage. She had no stomach for any more arguments. Whatever had been said, whatever she’d done, it all meant nothing. This was simply another day in the wearying life she led with those men. What she really wanted to think about now was a pair of grey-green eyes.
A few minutes later, the driver stopped the carriage, and Taylor and her maid climbed in. With the exception of her father looking disdainfully down his nose and Clay shifting his position so that his knees wouldn’t brush against hers, nothing else was said. Taylor looked out the window, wishing for one more glimpse of their rescuer, but he was long gone.
“Looking for the duke?” Clay asked.
Duke? Taylor tried to think of the dukes she’d met in her life. Not one had been like him. And he’d come to their aid. She didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry. A duke had helped them while an earl and a viscount stood by and did nothing. If she lived to be a hundred, she would never forget the feel of his powerful arms around her.
“The man was a duke?” she asked finally.
“Franz Aurech, Duke of Bamberg.” Her father was thumbing a card.
“Bamberg,” her brother clarified. “In Bavaria.”
The accent. Liebling. It all made sense. “He left his card? Are you going to see him again?”
“Indeed,” Lord Lindsay replied curtly, tucking the card into his waistcoat pocket. “He mentioned that he traveled here from the continent to find a suitable wife. I offered you to him. And as strange as it seems, he might be interested.”
CHAPTER 2
How to Ditch A Duke
– Step 2 –
Maintain a Healthy Distance
The Abbey Hospital
Western Aberdeen, the Scottish Highlands
Three Months Later
NO WARNING. No knock. The door into Taylor’s rooms flew open, and in marched Lady Millie Pennington McKendry, preceded by her exceptionally large, round belly. True, she was nine months pregnant, but Taylor had never been in the company of an expectant woman so close to giving birth.
And her dearest friend was not happy.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Millie shut the door and leaned her back against it. “You didn’t come here to keep my company until this bairn is born. You came north to run away.”
The stung look in her eyes caused Taylor to shrivel a little with guilt. It was true that she’d traveled to this hospital tucked away in the Highlands in order to escape. It seemed the perfect place. A private asylum where Millie’s husband treated patients suffering from head injuries and mental disorders. She’d said nothing because she wanted to spare her friend some of the chaos that her life had become. Her silence had clearly been for nothing, however. Somehow, Millie knew.
“You’ve said not one word about it. A whole month and not one syllable about a suitor.” Millie pressed a hand to her lower back as she waddled away from the door. “And not simply a suitor. A man who’s made his intentions known to you.”
“I did come here to be with you…for the most part.” Taylor moved a chair and helped her friend sit down. “But if I wasn’t bubbling over with news, it’s because there’s nothing to bubble about. And besides, I didn’t see any point in mentioning my problem because I’m hoping it will disappear on its own while I’m…well, away.”
“What problem?” Millie breathed deeply and pressed the side of her belly.
“The problem with my father and this proposal. Yes, I have a suitor, but I want him to disappear.”
“Taylor, a real suitor doesn’t simply disappear.”
Lord knows, Taylor was aware of that.
“And people are saying you’re engaged.”
“Falsehoods, I swear it. A real engagement involves a proposal of marriage and an acceptance. It is a verbal agreement between a man and a woman. Not a father pressuring someone to take his unsightly harpy of a daughter off his hands.”
“You are neither of those things. You make me so angry when you talk about yourself like that.”
“Be angry all you want, but I need you to support me in this.”
Millie sat quietly for a moment. “I know almost nothing of the details, but from what I understand, the man is a duke. How can the earl influence someone of that rank?”
“The man stepped into a trap.” Taylor wrapped her arms around her waist, recalling the most embarrassing moment of her life. “The duke came upon us after a carriage accident and, out of sheer kindness, stopped to help. Naturally, my father thought it was the perfect time to throw me at him. I believe he tried to sweeten the deal with pair of goats.”
Millie smiled. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“I wish I were. I’m all too familiar with his methods. Influence, plead, beg, promise, lie, embellish. Stay after him like a hound on the scent of a fox. Whatever he had to do, he did over the weeks that followed…and somehow managed to succeed.”
It was only when they’d returned to Edinburgh that she’d been able to find out more information about the duke.
“Franz Aurech, the Duke of Bamberg, is financially strapped. His estates are on the verge of collapse.”
“I see.” Millie paused, her brow drawing together. “And he’s looking for a rich wife?”
“An heiress,” Taylor answered. “His Grace is looking for a woman with substantial wealth. And from what I gather, the moment he arrived and his intentions were known, he had invitations to every salon and assembly from London to Bath to Edinburgh. The social circles are still abuzz with a list of prospects.”
“But I doubt there’s any woman richer than you.”
Taylor cringed to think what exactly her father had revealed to this total stranger.
“Why would the earl want this?” Millie asked. “You and I both know that without you handling the business of the family estates, Lord Lindsay and your brother would be…well, ruined.”
It was true. They’d be lost. While Taylor was growing up, her mother had controlled the finances of the family. And when she’d grown ill, Taylor had taken over her role. She had an aptitude for it. She enjoyed the manipulation of funds and stocks, as well as the budgeting of estate revenues. Her father, who had absolutely no interest in such responsibilities, had been off somewhere serving in some ceremonial capacity during the war when her mother passed away. Since then, under Taylor’s management, the family’s fortunes had grown, and Millie was correct that the two men would squander their fortunes in no time without her.
“I imagine he expects that I’ll somehow continue to do from a distance the same thing I’ve been doing. But more important, having a duke in the family tree is a prize beyond his wildest dreams. Never mind that it settles the question of his daughter’s future,” she explained. “I believe in his own twisted way, he worries about me. My fortune is independent of his. He’s said outright that it’s only matter of time before some no-good, penniless swindler will seduce me and steal all my money.”
“He doesn’t know you very well, does he?”
Wealth brought attention. But Taylor was invulnerable to the flirtations of fine-looking men. At least, she thought she was, until she met Bamberg. That chest. That accent. “You’re correct. He doesn’t.”
“What else do you know about the duke? Other than his name and that he’s looking for a rich wife?”
“To be honest, he’s quite accomplished. He’s an explorer. A world traveler. I’ve been trying to learn what I could, aside from the gossip, and there’s actually quite a bit of information out there. Lord Bamberg is highly celebrated in academic circles. After the war, he partnered with Prince Maximilian of Wied-Neuwied in an expedition into the jungles of Brazil. He’s even published journals on the ethnography of people living in the Amazon.”
“I’m surprised. I was half expecting you to tell me he was a ne’er-do-well, living a dissipated existence in gaming hells all over Europe.”
“Nay, that would be my brother, as you know.” She took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. She couldn’t allow her memory of her first meeting with the duke to influence her judgment. “Bamberg is well-respected as an explorer and a scholar. But his accomplishments have come at a price. I imagine his absence and neglect might be the cause of the dire situation of his estates in Bavaria.”
Millie frowned. “And that, of course, would all be remedied as soon as he finds a rich wife.”
“Apparently.”
Her friend asked for a glass of water, and Taylor brought it for her.
She still didn’t know how it was that Millie had found out about Bamberg. Her friend was not a person with any interest in or access to society natter. She doubted that any of the city gossip rags were delivered to the Abbey.
“Tell me, what is he like as a person?” Millie asked, handing back the empty glass.
“I don’t really know.”
Millie’s eyes rounded, and a smile tugged at a corner of her lips. “You mean, you haven’t spent any time in his company?”
Taylor was suddenly interested in the pattern of the rug at her feet.
“I would have thought this strong opinion of yours, this outright rejection of the man, would be based on personal observation, along with what you’ve learned. Are you telling me it’s not?”
Taylor slipped a hand into the pocket of her dress, touching his handkerchief. Foolishly, she considered it a gift. A keepsake of the man that she dreamed of at night and ran away from by day.
“We exchanged a few polite words the day of the carriage accident.”
They’d exchanged more than a few words. He was gallant, charming, handsome. He was every woman’s dream and Taylor’s ultimate fantasy. Her father’s assertion that the duke was going to call made her the happiest of women. It was only later, when she found out that he was impoverished, that Taylor realized her mistake and started running.
“Since our first meeting,” she continued, “I’ve evaded the meetings my family has engineered. When he was invited to dinner in Edinburgh, I dashed off to the Borders. When a messenger from my father arrived to tell me they were coming and to remain where I was, I bribed the man and fled to Fife to visit your sister Phoebe. And there were other occasions that I narrowly escaped. Still, the earl has managed to keep the duke on the hook. Last word was that he hasn’t given up on me.”
Millie rested her palms on her round belly and gazed critically at Taylor.
“So, you’ve avoided him. You don’t know him, but you’re dead set against him. Do you truly believe this man has nothing to offer? There’s nothing about him that interests you?”
Millie the peacemaker. Millie the organizer. Millie, who was known for her wisdom and ability to set any wrong to right and formulate remarkable suggestions, was frowning at her.
“It’s not that Bamberg has nothing to his credit.” Taylor considered how to answer. How could she convey, without sounding like an idiot, that the mere thought of the man was enough to make her insides flutter like a country lass at her first ceilidh? That this was a nobleman with unexpected compassion. A man who was not afraid to get down in the mud to help others. A man with the face and body of a god. Even now, she still felt herself growing warm deep in her belly at the recollection of their bodies pressed against each other as he helped her after the fall. “He certainly has qualities that would make him attractive to some.”
“Such as?”
This was also the Millie she knew. Line up the positive virtues. Then line up the negative traits. Then decide.
“In terms of his looks, he is striking, I’d say. Impressively tall. His voice…well, I never knew how charming an accent could sound. And we must credit him for his integrity. He’s announced publicly his financial hardship. No woman who marries Bamberg can accuse him of having an ulterior motive for the marriage. His Grace is not searching for love. He’s looking for an economic arrangement.”
Perhaps if they’d met somewhere else, without her family present. Maybe if he’d come to her rescue when she’d been traveling alone. Or if there were no coercion by her father involved. And he had no knowledge of her wealth. Maybe then, Taylor would have been receptive to…no, excited about his pursuit. She shook her head and turned her attention back to her friend.
“A union with him does seem to offer something,” Millie said quietly. “Even if it’s not a love match.”
“Your union has far more. Your marriage has it all.”
“Mine has.” She smiled, patting her belly absently.
Since marrying, Millie and Dermot had settled here in the Highlands. And Taylor knew how important this baby was to her friend. She’d survived the trauma of surgery and recovered as quickly as one could expect after having a breast removed because of cancer. This child would be proof that she could live a normal life. No one wanted that for her more than Taylor.
“The prickly relationship you have with your family should be considered, don’t you think? They constantly chastise you for everything, regardless of all you do for them. That hasn’t changed, has it?”
Millie had witnessed some of that treatment over the years, in London and in Edinburgh and at their estate in Fife. Millie’s family presented a far different picture. Taylor never knew such affection and respect could exist between siblings…and now between their respective families. And she knew the Pennington family values could all be traced directly to Lord and Lady Aytoun.
“My father and brother will never change. How is that relevant?”
“I can’t help but think that snaring this duke might be the relief you need from your family. Imagine if you never had to live with them again. Unless there are real points against the duke. Are there?”
Not to have to hear her family’s daily complaining or be mortified by their self-interest was a dream, but there was a reality about the situation that Taylor had to face.
“Bamberg is a world traveler. An adventurer. I have no interest in marrying, only to be stuck in some cold, empty castle in Bavaria—knowing no one and having nothing to do—while he traipses about the world.”
That was important, she told herself. A point her friend could understand. Millie and Dermot were here together, building a future. One was not off in the wilds while the other sat at home doing nothing.
She strode to the window and gazed out at the golden fields spreading east. Beyond the stables, a series of fish ponds descended in the direction of the River Don, and cottages and farm buildings snuggled between heather-covered knolls. She loved it here. What would life be like in the forests of Bavaria?
Also, there was Taylor’s own insecurity about how she compared with all the women who must constantly be throwing themselves at someone with his looks, his title. She would never stand for infidelity. She didn’t want the pain that was unavoidable with such a husband. She wouldn’t be made to play the fool. No, even when she’d been young and gullible enough to hope for marriage, she’d wanted it to be for love. Not for some tawdry financial arrangement. Not for some empty title. What could Bamberg possibly offer her in return for her hand in a marriage of convenience such as this?
She looked over her shoulder at Millie. “I can’t do it. I can’t marry him.”
Her friend sat in silence for a moment. “Then say no to him, Taylor. But speak to your father first. He’s the one that started all this.”
“But that’s the problem! I can’t openly defy him. I can’t tell the duke no when my father is hounding me to say yes. He’ll make my life miserable. He’ll remind me at every opportunity how I ruined a connection for him.” She wrung her hands. “The answer lies in Bamberg backing away and withdrawing his offer. I still believe if I continue to hold him off, refuse to see him, he’ll grow tired of the chase. He’ll find another heiress. Please allow me to stay here.”
A pained look creased Millie’s face, and Taylor rushed to her, wondering if the moment had come. “Shall I run for your husband? Is it time?”
Her friend shook her head. “He…he’s coming.”
“Who is coming?”
“The Duke of Bamberg.” She took Taylor’s hand, stopping her from running to the door. “Dermot received a letter from His Grace this morning. He mentioned you by name. His message said he would need to impose on our hospitality for a short visit.”
Her father knew that she was coming to the Abbey, but Taylor never imagined he would be so indiscreet as to send the duke this way.
“When will he be here?”
Millie shrugged and shook her head. “A few weeks? A few days? Today? I honestly don’t know.”
CHAPTER 3
How to Ditch A Duke
– Step 3 –
Employ Trusted Friends as Allies
THE DUKE of Bamberg stood with his back to Dermot McKendry and scanned the grounds below. A dozen men, whom he assumed were patients of the hospital, were visible in the garden walkways, accompanied by attendants. Some were walking without assistance, but some were in chairs equipped with wheels. The object of his search, Lady Taylor, was nowhere to be seen.
“McKendry, we have been friends since our days at the university,” he said, turning to the doctor. “You know everything there is to know about me. About my family. About my life.”
“Perhaps a wee bit too much, Your Grace.”
“That’s very funny. But if you ‘Your Grace’ me one more time, I shall be compelled to toss you from this window.”
“Odd you should say that, Bamberg.” Dermot laughed. “Because I hear the exact same threat from my partner, Captain Melfort, quite often. I’ve actually been considering moving my office to the ground floor.”
“Don’t try to change the subject.” He glared at his friend, sitting in the only chair not piled high with books and papers. It didn’t matter. Until he was able to see the lady and resolve the issue between them, his restlessness wouldn’t allow him to sit. “The fact is, you know me. You could have offered some testament of my good character.”
“Believe me, I would have wracked my brain to come up with something positive to say about you if I’d known that’s what you wanted.”
“If you’d known? We corresponded about this five or six months ago.”
“Did we?”
“Ja. If you recall, I expressed my deep joy regarding your news. You told me you were married and your wife was expecting.”
“I remember now. Your exact response was, Good for you. I too need to be married. It’s time. Your joy positively leapt from the page.”
Bamberg didn’t recall wording it precisely that way, but it did sound like him. “And I sent another letter of congratulations, along with a case of the finest Sylvaner wine Bavaria has to offer.”
“Well, of course, I remember that.”
“And in that letter, I told you I was attending a number of functions in London and Edinburgh. That I planned to choose a wife.”
“Planned. You mentioned no name, my friend. And at that time, no one had drawn your interest,” Dermot reminded him. “I invited you to come and visit us in the Highlands.”
When Bamberg left Bavaria, he’d imagined a month or two of attending rather dull social events, meeting eager and delicate heiresses, and having occasionally uncomfortable conversations. He knew he wasn’t approaching the process with the right attitude, but he’d been tired of it before he started. All of that changed, however, the moment he’d come upon the Earl of Lindsay’s stranded carriage.
He saw her from a distance as he approached. The bows of the servants and their concerned attention told him she was a lady of rank. It wasn’t until later that he learned her name.
With the rain streaming down, she wore no cloak. No hat. No gloves. Golden ringlets of hair danced and lit the grey scene. Her hands were fisted, her stride confident. She was Athena, inspiring her heroes at Troy. She was Boadicea, rallying her fellow warriors. She was Joan of Arc, joining the battle.
Nothing attracted him more than a strong woman. One who knew her mind. One who wasn’t deterred by any foolish constraints imposed on her sex.
Lady Taylor Fleming was that woman.
He paid no attention to the milksops cowering under the tree. He went straight to her. Working beside Taylor to free the carriage, he was deeply impressed by her determination not to give up.
Bamberg’s heart melted when she fell and slipped into the ditch at her moment of victory. His compassion quickly turned to anger, however, when he saw neither man move from their place of relative comfort. When he approached to assist her, she held back for a moment, but he would have crouched there for an eternity until she took his outstretched hand.
His attempted rescue was anything but smooth. But it was hardly a disaster. Her curves filled his hands. Her voluptuous body pressed against him. In the confused clutching and grappling that ensued, he was touching places he shouldn’t have. And his body reacted. Unexpected desires flared. A moment later, she stood before him. And regardless of the mud on her face and hands and clothing, everywhere he looked, he saw beauty. Her lips were full, made to be kissed. Her eyes were blue as the morning sky above the Amazon. Her neck was uncovered, and he imagined running his lips along the delicious length of it. Her breasts strained to break free. Wicked possibilities flashed into his imagination. He thought of the two of them, rolling naked in the mud in some tropical jungle, the sweet, warm fragrance of brilliantly colored flowers surrounding them.
His body’s response to hers was as astounding as it was immediate. He’d transformed from gentleman to rake in an instant. And there was something in her brief glance that told him he was not alone. Taylor saved them both, however, when she turned and left him standing there, gawking at her like a schoolboy.
When he learned a few minutes later that Taylor was an earl’s daughter, and wealthy in her own right, it didn’t matter at all. She could just as well have been the carriage driver’s daughter. Bamberg was entranced. He wanted to know more about her. He wanted to spend time with her.
After that, however, she avoided him at every turn. She was never present at any event her father invited him to attend. Other men might have considered her actions outright rejection of him. Not Bamberg. He’d already spent enough time in the company of the earl to know he was a dreadful man. She was simply reacting to family pressure and her father’s oafish attempts to treat her like a commodity. The pompous ass didn’t deserve her.
A little distance was needed. He would separate himself from Lindsay and seek out Taylor on his own, when the time was right. London beckoned, with its academic lectures and its invitations from societies of explorers and scientists. Then, about a fortnight ago, he returned to Edinburgh. He could no longer stay away. A visit with Dermot in the Highlands was in order, but he wanted to see her. When he called on Lord Lindsay with the hope of finding Taylor there, the man sorrowfully told him that his daughter was away visiting friends in the Highlands. At a “blasted asylum” called the Abbey.
Bamberg turned to his old friend. “Some might think it’s a coincidence that Lady Taylor is here, but I think it’s fate.”
Dermot crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Do you mean fate, as in being struck by lightning on a clear day, or fate, as in finding a gold sovereign in your coat pocket after a week of drinking and carousing?”
“You joke, but I’m serious. Do you not find it strange that she is your wife’s best friend and I’m yours?”
Dermot cleared his throat and gave him a thoughtful look. “Actually, I wouldn’t say you’re my best friend. Or second. Perhaps third.”
Bamberg shook his head. He was more than familiar with the other man’s sense of humor. “When did my most recent letter reach you?”
“A few days ago. And that was the first time I learned of your interest in Lady Taylor.”
“She’d made no mention of me to Lady Millie?”
“None. And when my wife confronted her about an attachment, she vehemently denied it. She doesn’t want to have anything to do with you. Which shows good judgment on her part, I’d say.”
Bamberg frowned, but he wasn’t surprised. The earl’s maneuvers were incentive enough for her to refuse him. “She’s your wife’s friend. Couldn’t she say a few words in support of me?”
“You’ve met Lady Taylor once, but you don’t know her. Not the way my wife does. She is an incredibly intelligent woman. And she’s headstrong. You must already know, she’s rich. She doesn’t need you. From what I gather, she doesn’t wish to marry, regardless of the earl’s persistence.” He cocked an eyebrow. “By the way, why does she think you’re poor?”
Bamberg waved a hand. “A rumor I started myself. I’d hoped to dampen some of the enthusiasm of parents throwing their daughters at me.”
“Has it worked?”
“Not at all. I underestimated the irresistible combination of my charm and my title.”
Dermot laughed, but then grew serious. “She’s not impressed by titles either. And to be honest, because Millie doesn’t know you well, she would consider it a betrayal of her friend’s trust to recommend you.”
Bamberg understood. He’d only met Millie a few minutes ago. How could she endorse the character of someone who was little more than a stranger to her?
“You’re here now,” Dermot reminded him. “You can do your own talking. Your own convincing. Your own winning of her affection. I’m sure that irresistible combination of whatever it was you said will win the day.”
“Exactly. I’m here, and she’s here. Finally, we can walk in the gardens or sit across the table from each other at breakfast and have a normal convers—” Bamberg paused, worried by the scowl on Dermot’s face. “She is still here, is she not?”
“She’s here. My wife, at least, did you the favor of coercing her to stay. But the bad news for you is that Millie’s entire family is descending on us at any moment.”
“Of course. For the birth of your first child.”
He knew from one of Dermot’s letters that his wife was the youngest of five siblings. And the family was very protective, especially after a health scare Millie had survived the year before.
“My two brothers-in-law and their wives and children will be arriving soon, as are Lady Phoebe and Captain Bell and their infant. Captain Melfort, my partner here, is married to the eldest sister, Lady Jo. They live at the Tower House, a short walk from here, with their son. And of course, the Earl and Countess Aytoun will be here too. And in addition to all these guests, there’ll be—”
“I understand. You invited me, and now you have no room for me.”
“I’m so happy you understand, Bamberg.”
He smiled. “That’s no problem at all. I can stay in the village. I believe I saw a deserted hovel there as I rode through. I can ride over here and call on Lady Taylor—”
“There is an inn, but you don’t have to go that far. We have a small cottage on an island in the loch just beyond the Tower House. It would merely involve a pleasant walk and a very short boat ride. It’s much nearer than the village. And another thing in its favor, it lies in the direction where Lady Taylor takes her daily ramble.”
In Bavaria, Bamberg lived in the manner that was required of a nobleman of his standing. While in London or Edinburgh or one of the capitals on the continent, he kept a handful of servants. But when he traveled like this, he went alone. No servants. No carriage. He’d learned, as an explorer, that traveling unencumbered was often the best way. And though he was teasing Dermot, he’d roughed it many times. The thought of staying in a cottage sounded perfect.
“Tell me more about this island.”
FROM AN UPPER WINDOW, Taylor watched the duke arrive. No carriage, no valet, no formality. He traveled on the same ebony steed she’d seen him riding the first time they met.
He seemed taller. His hair longer, his chest broader, his face handsomer. Taylor could see Millie and Dermot standing beneath the window, waiting to greet His Grace. Bamberg handed his mount’s reins to a groom and strode toward the house.
He smiled at them, and Taylor clutched her chest and backed away. The chaotic entanglement of their first meeting was still fresh in her mind. His touch, their bodies dancing against each other. She wasn’t strong enough to meet him again. She couldn’t retain her outward indifference to him, and that would surely lead to disaster. Taylor didn’t want to wake up one morning and find herself married to someone who only wanted her money, and left alone in some cold, ruined castle in Bavaria.
Evasion. That was still the best response.
But why did he have to be so bloody perfect?
When Millie arrived an hour later, Taylor told her what she’d decided.
“Well, you can put that thought out of your head. You’re not leaving. I’ll not allow it. I could be delivering this baby any day now, and you promised you’d be here for me.”
“But your whole family is coming. Your sister Jo is a five-minute walk from here. Your husband is a doctor.”
“Stop whining. I refuse to accept any excuses. You’re my friend. Two days ago, you swore that you had come to the Abbey for me…but now…”
Guilt squeezed Taylor’s heart. Last year, when Millie had gone through the frightening operation to have a breast removed, Taylor didn’t hear about it until later. Since then, she’d tried to find some opportunity of helping her best friend. She wanted to be here when she was needed, whatever the circumstances.
She put an arm around Millie’s shoulder. “I saw you greeting the duke. Does he know I’m here?”
“He does. If you recall, the two of us decided that your best course of action was to meet him.”
It was true. She had to explain to him why he must withdraw. Millie had been coaching her for the past couple of days. It wasn’t that she was afraid of him. She was afraid of herself.
Still, Millie’s words echoed in her mind. Seeing him is the best way to ditch the duke.
Taylor had thought she could do it. That was until she saw him ride up and wedding bells began to ring in her ears.
“How long do you think he’ll be staying?” she asked tentatively.
“Probably as long as you’re staying, or until you reject him and send him away.”
Taylor walked off and looked at the ceiling as she paced. How could she possibly face the man and reject him? She couldn’t.
“I don’t know what to do. I’m torn. All those reasonable strategies we talked about suddenly seem frightening.”
“He is certainly not frightening.” Millie walked to the wall and absently straightened a picture. “He is…well, quite handsome. And charming. And considerate.”
“You had one brief introduction, and now you’re under his spell too.” Taylor threw her hands up.
“He has placed no spell on me. I’m only relaying my observations.”
Taylor shook her head and resumed her pacing. “The man may be impossible to resist in person. I’m afraid I shan’t be able to say no to him.”
Millie sat on a chair and watched her go from the window to the door and back again.
“Promise me that you’ll stay, and I’ll make the arrangements so you won’t have to see him.”
It took a few moments for Millie’s words to sink in. “How?”
“I’ll lie for you. I’ll make some excuse about an urgent letter arriving. I’ll tell him you needed to depart for Edinburgh.”
That would be another snub to the duke, but as much as she hated it, she didn’t know what else to do. “I’ll stay here in this room. I’ll hide until he’s gone.”
“Not here. I can hardly lie when everyone else knows you’re here. I have a reputation to protect.”
“Where should I go?”
“Do you recall the loch that is surrounded by forest just beyond Jo’s house? You and I walked there. It has that pretty island in the middle.”
The shimmering lake had been their morning destination several times the first week after Taylor arrived. Since then, she’d been walking the path by herself on almost a daily basis. Millie was uncomfortable going so far. “I remember. Why?”
“I didn’t take you to the island, but a quaint little cottage stands on the far side of it. Do you think you might be able to stay there until the duke is gone? It would only be for a day or two, I’m quite certain.”
“Is it livable?”
“Of course, it is. Dermot and I used to take a basket and have picnics out there before I grew this big. It’s a lovely place.” Millie struggled to her feet. “Why don’t you come with me, and I’ll have one of the grooms row you out to the island? Inspect it, take an inventory of what you need, and send the man back with instructions. I’ll send your maid after you with the supplies.”
“And you think this might work?”
“Absolutely. Trust me.”
CHAPTER 4
How to Ditch A Duke
– Step 4 –
Choose the Most Advantageous Time and Place to Let Him Down
THE SUMMER AIR was unnaturally still, and the waters of the loch lay like silvery glass beyond the ripples sliding outward from the boat. In the distance, the round-shouldered peaks of the Cairngorms wore a mantle of thickening grey clouds.
Taylor stared at the swirling pools formed by the oar blades and tried not to think of the ridiculousness of what she was doing. Never in her life had she been a coward. Never had she failed to rise to a challenge. She prided herself on her independence. On her willingness to stand up to the men in her family. Why she ran away from the duke was a mystery that plagued her.
She turned her attention to the island ahead. It was indeed pretty and small. She’d admired it from afar when she walked along the shoreline. At one end, a copse of pine trees bordered a grassy meadow. At the other end, the land rose high above the loch, covered by another grove of trees. The refuge was just distant enough from the shore to require a boat and a pair of strong arms to row to it.
As they approached, she was surprised to see another boat pulled up onto a beach of sand and stone. She turned to the wiry old groom who’d been tasked with bringing her out.
“Does anyone live on the island?”
“Nay, my lady.”
“Whose boat is that, then?”
The groom turned and squinted at the craft. “A few lads were out fixing a hole in the cottage roof last week, but they’re done with it. A maid out cleaning up, I’d wager. The isle has scant visitors. Family folk, mostly. Could be the Squire and the minister are out here.”
Taylor had seen a great deal of Dermot McKendry’s uncles this past month, battling one another almost daily with their cleeks and mashies and niblicks in the meadows. And if it wasn’t some golf shot they happened to be arguing about at dinner, then it was a giant fish that got away back in the reign of Robert the Bruce.
As the boat bumped onto the shore, the groom jumped out and pulled it up onto the sand. Taylor accepted the proffered hand and climbed out. She looked up the gentle incline and saw the peak of the cottage roof beyond the crest of the hill.
“I’ll wait here, my lady.”
It was an easy climb from the beach. The rippled clouds covering the sky had the look of fish scales, and Taylor breathed in the warm morning air. The smell of pine and earth surrounded her. She undid the ribbon and tore the bonnet from her head when she reached the top of the grassy knoll. Just beneath her, the thatched cottage was surrounded by a carpet of yellow, scarlet, and white flowers.
The serenity of the view drew a breathy sigh from her. Small wonder Millie and her husband liked to come here to spend a day.
She scanned the shore but saw no sign of the elderly McKendry brothers.
One or two days in such a place would be heaven. Taylor was born to privilege, but she was most comfortable when she was away from it. No foolish expectations. No contrived formality. No false vanity. Here, she could be herself with no one to judge her. No one to disapprove of her.
A movement drew Taylor’s gaze to the cottage. The door stood open. Perhaps someone was working in the house. A tall boot appeared on the threshold. Above it, tight breeches that didn’t belong to any groom or farm worker. A head of dark hair ducked under the low doorway, emerging into the light, and broad muscled shoulders followed.
He was here. Bamberg.
The ribbons of the bonnet slipped through her fingers.
Immediately, Taylor’s pounding heart rose into her throat, even as a delicious warmth spread through her body. When he lifted his face to the sun, the cottage and the flowers and everything else disappeared. Birds ceased singing. The long grass stopped waving. The earth stopped turning.
She couldn’t move. The man enthralled her. Amid this moment of madness, Taylor suddenly knew that her own body was betraying her, robbing her of all sense of reason, leaving only desire.
Bamberg lifted a hand to shade his eyes, and he saw her.
Immediate panic seized her. She whirled, ready to run. But her feet refused to comply.
Suddenly, her vision cleared and her eyes focused. Far from the beach, the old groom was rowing away from the island. And tied to the stern, the second boat trailed behind him.
“Oh, Millie,” she murmured. “How could you!”
Taylor closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She shouldn’t be surprised. Her friend faced life and its challenges head-on. No evasion. No time wasted on fears or heartache or second thoughts. Millie believed in drawing every bit of goodness from each day. Naturally, this would be her solution to Taylor’s dilemma.
At the sound of approaching steps, Taylor pressed a hand to her stomach to ease the jitteriness and turned to face the duke.
“Your Grace,” she murmured.
“Lady Taylor. Finally, we meet again.”
THE FIRST TIME THEY MET, Bamberg had been taken with her courage. Her strength and character shone through, regardless of the unfortunate circumstances. And when it came to physical attraction, she was irresistibly beautiful, even knee-deep in mud.
At this moment, however, standing on this island in these wild Highland hills, Taylor Fleming was nothing less than transcendent. From her hair of spun gold to her angelic face to her voluptuous curves, she was Aphrodite. She was Diana.
But she was also the woman who’d successfully ditched him at every turn for the past three months. Her reticence only fueled his interest. His inquiries about her confirmed that she was a prize worth chasing. In coming to England and Scotland to choose a wife, he’d never imagined running into someone like her. Now that he’d met her, she was the only one who would do.
Taylor had never flatly rejected him, but she was unconvinced, unwilling. So he had today, perhaps only until she made a dash for the beach, to convince her otherwise.
“Your Grace, is that your boat departing with mine?”
Her question forced Bamberg to tear his eyes from her and look out at the loch.
“Damn…!” He took a couple of steps down the hill but immediately remembered his manners and turned around. “My apologies.”
She smiled. “I believe our hosts are playing games with us.”
Bamberg reluctantly looked away from the upturned corners of her lips and motioned toward the departing groom. “I’ll swim after him and bring a boat back if you ask me to. I have no desire for you to feel trapped or forced into meeting with me.”
The prettiest of blushes bloomed on her face. How could she possibly get any more attractive?
“That’s very kind of you. But I’m hardly a strong swimmer. I couldn’t come to your rescue you if you were to call for help.”
He returned her smile. “An excellent point, because I would, without doubt, be calling out to you.”
He picked up her bonnet, and their fingers brushed as he handed it to her. They both drew back at once. If a mere touch sparked the air around them, Bamberg wondered what would happen if they were to kiss.
“What was their ploy in sending you here?” she asked.
“Lady Millie’s family is arriving at any moment. The good doctor told me there are no available guest rooms at the Abbey. And you?”
She started to say something but then shook her head. “I think my friend’s intention was for me to speak with you alone, without the presence of family.”
“I’ve been hoping for the same thing.” He offered his arm. “Would you care to walk with me?”
“Where to?”
“We could see what the island has of interest to offer.”
She looked around her. From where they stood at the crest of the hill, they could see the entire shoreline. Nevertheless, she took his arm, and they started down the slope.
Bamberg felt the pressure of their limited time together, and he had so much he wanted to say. Dermot had hinted that they might have this moment when the men met in his office. He knew that somehow, somewhere, his friend and his wife would arrange for the two of them to meet. And Dermot had made good on it. But now that Taylor was here, Bamberg was already lamenting the moment when she’d be gone.
“Your Grace—” she began before he interrupted.
“Please. My friends call me Bamberg.”
“Very well.” She nodded. “I owe you an apology for the way I’ve behaved toward you.”
“I find no fault in anything you’ve done.”
The hill was steep, and as they descended, she had no objection to an occasional touch along her waist to steady her step.
“I’ve been avoiding you.”
He smiled. “I thought you were avoiding your father. Or was it your brother? I certainly didn’t think I was the cause.”
He hadn’t realized before that the sparkling blue irises of her eyes were encircled by a thin silvery band.
“Now, I’m feeling especially guilty. I left you time and time again in their company.”
“You should feel guilty about that.” He adjusted his hold on her, taking Taylor’s hand to assist her down a particularly slippery patch. At the bottom, he didn’t let go, telling himself it was because of the uneven ground. “I don’t care to talk about them. I endured them for you. Because frankly, from the moment I saw you pushing that carriage, I’ve been fascinated.”
Her brows pulled together, and her eyes narrowed, conveying her skepticism. Discreetly, she withdrew her hand. “You have considerable charm, Your Grace, but you’re wasting it on me.”
“I’m being honest, my lady.” He motioned to the waters of the loch. “I don’t know how much time we have here, and I’d like to speak plainly, if I may.”
“These past months notwithstanding, I prefer straight talk as well.”
“Thank you.” He faltered for a moment, wondering if the things he wanted to say would only serve to frighten her off. Casting doubt to the wind, he decided to dive in. “Aside from your obvious beauty, I already know that you’re highly intelligent and have a mind of your own. You are clearly a woman of courage. You have compassion for others, and you act on it. I don’t want to offend you in referring to your family, but you are, in fact, nothing like your male relations. If I may ask, were you a foundling?”
Her surprised laughter filled the air, and the sound of it was music to his ear.
“But seriously. Your mother. Was she, like you, one of the seraphim?”
The smile stayed on her lips. They reached a pile of large stones, and he took her hand again to help her over them. She needed no assistance, but she allowed him to keep his hold as they continued on.
“You are trying to charm me, and I need you to stop.”
“Charm you? I just called you an orphan,” he argued. “But I did take it back by recognizing the gratitude I owe to the parent who no longer graces us with her presence.”
Bamberg wished he could retract the last words, as a shadow of sadness flitted across her face. It was too flippant a reference.
“Did my father mention her to you?” she asked.
“He did. He showed me her portrait when I visited your town house in Edinburgh. She had the same rare beauty that you possess. And Lord Lindsay told me you have inherited many of her qualities.” Bamberg didn’t care for the way Lindsay spoke disparagingly about his marriage, which had been the result of a financial arrangement, even as he acknowledged his wife’s value to him. “He clearly misses her.”
“I’m too much of a reminder of her.” Taylor stopped and studied the shoreline across the water for a moment. “Enough about me. Let’s talk about you.”
He bowed. “As you wish.”
“I have so many questions that I don’t know where to start.”
Bamberg felt a sense of relief wash through him. She was interested. Perhaps she would stop running once she found out more about him. He sensed she didn’t really believe his compliments, but there was time for him to convince her.
“Ask anything.” He looked directly into her blue eyes. “I shall be nothing but an open book for you.”
DERMOT SEARCHED the Abbey high and low for his wife. From the housekeeper he learned that Millie was revisiting the arrangements for her family, going room to room, even though she’d done the same thing last night and again this morning. He finally caught up to her, accompanied by a serving woman in the last apartment in the East Wing.
“How long do you think we should give them before I send a boat back to the island?” he asked, after dismissing the servant.
She stopped by the window, and the light coming through cast a glow around her beautiful face and round belly. “Before dinner, perhaps? Do you think that’s enough time?”
Gazing at her, Dermot forgot why he’d come here. If anyone asked him just then, he’d have a difficult time coming up with the names of the two friends they’d stranded in the loch. All he could think of was that he was the luckiest man alive.
Millie was his life, his love, and the bravest woman who ever lived. Holding her hand during her surgery a year ago, he’d prayed that she would never experience a moment’s pain again. But here she was, ready to give birth any day now.
“Come here.” She opened her arms. “I believe you’re more nervous than I am.”
Of course, he was nervous. Dermot was a doctor. He’d trained as a surgeon. He knew too much. He knew everything that could go wrong.
He gathered Millie in his arms. He kissed her brow, her lips. “I wish I could take on the pain of this childbirth for you.”
She clutched his coat and leaned against him. “I might wish for that too, if the pain gets any stronger than this.”
“Millie?”
“Yes, my love. It’s happening. Right now.”
BAMBERG’S EYES flashed with excitement as he spoke of his expeditions. His voice grew thick with emotion as he related stories about the kindness of those he’d met in the farthest corners of the world. They continued to walk, and Taylor was swept into his world.
“Knowledge of other people is the only way to end the arrogant prejudices and the narrow-mindedness we seem to pride ourselves on here in Europe. Travel is the answer. We cannot achieve any understanding by stagnating in one place.”
Taylor had been entranced by this man the first time they met. And she’d been running away since because of her own insecurity. But now, she silently sent a prayer of gratitude heavenward for her meddling friend Millie and her wisdom in making her meet Bamberg again.
She’d been whiling away her time in large, secure houses for much of her life. Thanks to her mother, Taylor had acquired an education that surpassed that of most British ladies. But still, that wasn’t enough. What she knew was nothing in comparison with what this man had seen of the world. Her heart swelled hearing him talk, learning what it was he believed.
Taylor lost track of how long they’d been walking. The more time they spent with each other, the more at ease they became. Her arm remained linked with his. Their shoulders touched, their steps had found a comfortable rhythm. The initial awkwardness she felt had disappeared. Every now and again, he took her hand to assist her over an uneven patch.
She guessed if the groom returned with a boat right now, she’d tell him to wait. She had so many more questions to ask.
“You said that you often travel in small groups, but do women ever join you?”
The grey-green eyes focused on her face. “Some of the places are quite remote and difficult to reach, but wives or daughters often travel on these expeditions.”
“What is your view of them coming along?” she asked. “Do they slow you down? Do you consider them a nuisance?”
“Hardly,” he replied with no hesitation. “I admire them. I’ve seen only fortitude and courage in women who take up the challenge of exploring places previously unknown to us. To be honest, I’ve found myself quite envious of the men they accompany.”
“Envious? Why?”
“Because I would suppose only a woman truly in love would part with the comforts of her life here and go on a journey that is inherently fraught with danger.”
Taylor respected and admired his sentiment, but she doubted that was the only thing that would motivate a person to go. She stopped and turned to face him. “But what if a woman simply seeks adventure? What if she craves the knowledge of the world that, as you say, only travel can provide? Don’t you think her thirst can be the same as a man’s?”
A droplet of rain fell on her face, and she held a hand open to catch the next. She glanced up and was surprised by the ominously dark clouds that had closed off the sky above them.
“I have no doubt of it. Still, here in Europe, women are considered the gentler sex and—”
“And they are admired by men for their softness, their vulnerability, their gentle manner.”
“I can’t speak for other men. Only for myself. I admire a woman for her courage. I respect one who thinks and speaks her mind, who refuses to be constrained by our society’s rigid expectations of her sex.” He held her gaze. “I was spellbound when I saw you charging through the mud to help a handful of exhausted servants. I knew at that moment, you were the woman I’d come searching for.”
Before Taylor could react, before she could even force a breath into her lungs, a flash of lightning split the air on the far shore, and she felt the crack of thunder in every fiber of her body. An instant later, another bolt lit the sky, and the heavens suddenly opened, sending them running through the teeming rain toward the cottage.
THE HANDSOME FACE took on a dark purple shade before the end of each contraction.
“Breathe, Dermot. Breathe, my love.”
Millie couldn’t believe she was the one giving directions to her husband in a time like this, but she was worried about him. Somehow, they’d managed to make it to their own bedroom. And with Dermot shouting orders along the way, the midwife from Aberdeen was already waiting at Millie’s bedside when they arrived in the room.
“Do you want to get into the bed?” the woman asked.
“Not yet. I’d prefer to be walking,” Millie answered, clutching her husband’s hand.
“Your sister Jo has already been sent for,” Dermot told her. “And my aunt is at the door if you want her with you.”
The pain continued to come in waves, and the intensity was still bearable.
“I only want you,” she whispered, leaning into her husband’s embrace.
The memory of her operation last year came to her now. Her parents and every one of her siblings had been present in Dr. Drummond’s surgery. But Millie had wanted only Dermot with her.
“I need you to be as brave for me as you were the last time I was in pain,” she murmured. “Can you do that for me?”
“I love you, Millie. I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”
CHAPTER 5
How to Ditch A Duke
– Step 5 –
Smother Him with Attention
THE SKY OPENED, and the hard wind gusts battered them as they ran across the meadow. Brilliant flashes of lightning and deafening cracks of thunder exploded around them. The air crackled. They were both breathless when they burst into the cottage. Bamberg pushed the door shut to keep out the driving rain.
“I can’t believe this storm was part of Millie’s plan.” Taylor laughed as she pulled off her soaked short jacket.
“McKendry has always been an incorrigible rogue. I believe he’s capable of anything.”