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Authors: Olivia Ritch

BOOK: Duke Herheart Final
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If he didn’t find her soon, this Kathryn would be ruined if she wasn’t already.

The garish garment she had been wearing was pooled on his bed.

The moment he touched it, his pulse raced from the texture, from its surprising softness. He buried his face in the delicate bundle and Michael breathed in the earthy, provocative smell of vital, alive woman. He’d barely been home in the last eight years but the force driving him at this moment had nothing to do with getting home, but everything to do with finding one improperly dressed female. Stuffing the garment into his coat pocket, Michael quit the room on a frustrated groan.

“Your Grace?” Michael’s mousy man Minton caught him at the bottom of the steps.

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Duke of Her Dreams – Olivia Ritch

“Ah, just the man I was looking for. Can you and John Coachman see to the carriage and take my valise up with you? I have a bit of business here.”

“You want us to go on
without you,
Your Grace?” Minton spluttered.

“Yes, don’t be so surprised. Surely, you are ready to be at the end of your travels. You need no longer delay here with me.”

“Oh, I am ready, Your Grace, but I thought, I mean…”

“They’ll welcome you. Don’t worry, man, Hallthorpe is expecting you. Go!” The commanding tone left no more room for the servant’s excuses.

“Yes, Your Grace.” Minton had no choice but to obey the command.

Ridding himself of his all too worldly valet had been imperative so Michael could concentrate on his search for Kathryn. The inn’s stables had excellent prospects for hiding a wayward lady wearing ill-fitting men’s clothing. Looking as she must, quite enchanting and out of place, the lads would surely take pity on her. Once he ran Kathryn to ground, Michael could solve the mystery of her plight and see the woman settled and on her way to wherever she belonged—out of his life.

“Kathryn, are you in here?” Avoiding the lads working in the far stalls, Michael called her name in a low whisper. She did not answer.

Fists clenched, nerves taut, Michael meticulously checked the loft and each unoccupied stall but no minx was in the stables. He stalked through the village and after hunting in all the obvious hiding spots for well nigh an hour, Michael was gravely concerned for Kathryn’s safety and completely out of sorts.

After surreptitious glances into the storefronts along the street, to no avail, Michael stepped into the Climbing Vine Inn to inquire of the barman at the tavern. “A pint if you please.”

“Yes, milord.” The barman filled a tankard and plopped it in front of Michael on the bar. Michael placed a guinea next to the mug and the man’s eyes glinted at the largesse. “What can I do for ye?”

“I am looking for a lady who is dressed as a lad.”

“Nay. Haven’t seen anyone like that through here today. Had some visitors but I’d say they’re all in their right clothes.”

“Thank you my good man.” Michael tipped the mug and took another long drag but ale was not what he needed right now. He needed a titian-haired houri. Ah, yes, houri was the perfect description, she was truly an exotic temptress.

Michael calculated that Kathryn must have headed directly out of town but how and in what conveyance? Hadn’t she had told him she had 15

Duke of Her Dreams – Olivia Ritch

no money? There were not many ways to leave a town like Wilton when someone was without means to pay. But she had something any number of men would have accepted as payment. He cursed loudly since no one could hear.

The woman had been coy and quite lovely but she had not propositioned
him
. She had asked for help and he had freely given it. But what if the next man she approached was not a gentleman? That thought was enough to make an old soldier groan.

Cursing her possible fate wasn’t going to find the woman so Michael turned his steps back down the street, lengthened his stride and began planning the next move in his campaign.

There were only two roads leading into and away from Wilton and he doubted she’d choose any of the narrow bridle paths. So for departing, Kathryn could make for London or take the split that led to Hawthorne.

Unbidden, images of Kathryn carted off by ruffians or set upon by highwaymen flashed before him. His protective instincts surged and he said a quick prayer that she had chosen the Hawthorne track, where she would be safe. She would also get a nice surprise when she landed on the doorstep of the man she had asked to help her then deserted. Michael rather liked the idea that Kathryn would get the opportunity to pay him back in his chosen currency for the clothing she had pilfered.

The satisfaction of that thought was fleeting as he stalked back into the Blue Bell, settled his account, and summoned for his horse to be brought around. Michael could not shake the tightness in his chest he felt at the woman’s effective disappearance. He had to beat a swift and steady pace toward the missing woman and to intercept her before she arrived at Hawthorne. As much as he wanted her to be heading there, he didn’t want her to precede him. His staff would be in a spate if she arrived at the door dressed …or only partially dressed, as a man in clothes that Minton or his all-too-perceptive butler Hallthorpe might even recognize as Michael’s own. That would be unacceptable.

Fury’s hooves ate up the distance while Michael scanned the open fields for any sign of her. He remembered every copse of trees, the hedge, and hiding places that had been the site of childhood adventures.

Today his land was alive with the smell of earth, sheep, cows, horses and hay, and fresh grass and he breathed it in deeply, letting the familiarity and the constant pounding of the hooves calm his fraying nerves.

As the road drew to its familiar end, Michael’s concern for Kathryn mounted. He should have overtaken her by now and since he had not, he knew she had not headed in this direction after all. He contemplated turning around but his mount would not be able to ride that distance.

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Duke of Her Dreams – Olivia Ritch

Michael was too close to home and the possibility of gaining a fresh horse to risk it. He would go back but not yet.

Slowing Fury to a walk, Michael scrubbed his hand over his face and tried to clear his mind from his pursuit of the missing woman to prepare for what lay ahead. He was coming home for the first time since losing his father and brother. He had for thirty years been the second son, the spare after all, the one destined to be a soldier. Now he was riding toward a completely new destiny. Surveying the familiar land spread out before him on all sides, Michael was indeed quite keen on taking the reins of his family’s vast holdings and becoming the Duke of Asterleigh.

He kicked his heels and spurred on his horse.

Excitement building, his heart welled as the façade of Hawthorne came into view. Nothing had prepared Michael for the emotion he would feel, the possessiveness of being master of this…of Hawthorne.
Home
.

He reined in. A lad rushed from the stable for Fury and stopped short when he realized who the rider was. The boy was not alone in his wonder and curtains tittered throughout the building, curious eyes peering out in awe at the lone rider.

“Milord, welcome home,” the boy murmured.

“Thank you, lad. He should cooperate for you as he’s been ridden hard.”

“Yes, milord.” Michael saw acceptance in Fury’s huge eyes as he gave himself to the lad, as if he too realized the weight of responsibility that fell on his master’s shoulders and deigned to acquiesce to the ministrations of an underling just this once. The horse also likely recognized a dab hand. Michael expected the boy would become a fine stableman.

Taking in the view on all sides, Michael admired the long row of stately trees marching alongside the drive that culminated in the wide circular graveled forecourt, then glanced at the lane leading to the stables where the lad had started off with Fury. He could see the stable down below and smell the faint scent of manure and constantly churned dirt.

He had been up this drive too many times to count but now he studied his home, its gardens and buildings anew, appreciating how impressive it all was. And, it was
his
. Michael’s chest swelled with pride and he couldn’t help but smile.

But he would dally another day and time to enjoy the sights. For now, he had a mission. His long stride gained him the steps quickly and Michael watched the great doors swing wide, spilling servants out into the Courtyard while their stately leader Hallthorpe stood at attention on the top step. “Welcome home mi’lord.”

17

Duke of Her Dreams – Olivia Ritch

“Welcome!” “Huzzah!”

“Good show, mi’lord.” The hearty greetings came from throughout the line of servants that had formed down the steps and extended back into the great hall. His maids curtsied and the footmen bowed and from all around him he felt the genuine warmth of their welcome that was evident in their wide and glowing smiles.

“Your Grace.” He heard affection in Hallthorpe’s deep baritone.

“Hallthorpe, I see you have kept the household in order.” He clasped the elder man by the shoulder and gripped his hand firmly.

“Your Grace, we have been preparing for your return. The staff is heartened to see you returned hale and whole.”

“I have heard that more than once today. I am as relieved as you.

Thank you.” In a louder voice he repeated, “Thank you all for your kind welcome. Be dismissed back to your posts.” On his words, the greetings died away and servants melted back into the house and the gardens.

“Hallthorpe, will you please not ‘Your Grace’ me just yet? My investiture is not for another ten days and I’d be quite happy being Lord Stafford or Captain Stafford until then.”

“As you wish, My Lord.” He did not miss his proper butler’s reproving gaze.

Michael took a deep breath and found the light scent of Jasmine floated on the air in the hall since the doors were still open. He had spotted the vine creeping up the arbor marking the entrance to the garden. It had been his mother’s favorite place on the property and he had ensured it was well tended in his absence. Like the stables, Michael had paid the garden particular attention in his directives. Bright blooms registered that indeed the gardeners had followed his instructions.

With the hall empty save for his trusty retainer, Michael turned his attention to his butler. “Thorpe, I need a dress.”

“A dress, My Lord?”

“I know where. I can get it myself.” While he had not originally expected his first action upon returning home would be a visit to his deceased wife’s bedchamber, Michael’s very real and growing concern for small, bold Kathryn compelled him forward. His legs leaden, he forced himself to mount the stairs. He was completely unsurprised at the scene that met him in Catherine’s room. Her closet, untouched for years but for the maids’ infrequent attention, was largely empty. As it turned out, there were only two dresses hanging. He selected the brown muslin day dress, leaving an evening dress for a change of clothes. Michael found a valise and stuffed in the only pair of shoes left in the bare expanse of dressing room.

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Duke of Her Dreams – Olivia Ritch

Fumbling through half-empty drawers, he found two unmatched garters, old limp stockings and heaven forbid, a bodice that looked and felt like it could stop a speeding shot. The thought of his earthy American cinched up in that armor…
Had he just thought of her as

“his” American? Arrgh.

Demmit.
“Hallthorpe?” he bellowed.

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Er…yes…how did you get here so fast? Were you lurking after me?”

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Why?”

“I thought you might…need me,” the man replied softly.

“Thank you, no. I have much greater concerns at the moment. I need a fresh mount. I have to return to Wilton.”

“Yes, My Lord.” He answered but he did not move. Michael could tell that Hallthorpe was expecting some form of explanation. They did have a more personal relationship beyond that of a Master and his butler.

“There is a woman…a lady…”


I see
.”

“It’s
not
like you see, Thorpe.” Michael resorted to the name he had called the butler since the time he was in short coats. “I came across a woman traveling alone, far from home and without proper clothing. She is lost. There seemed no one to help her but she slipped off while I went to find her appropriate attire. I mean to see her safe.”

His repeated “I see” was infused with far more perception than Michael welcomed.

* * * *

Thunder ate up the return distance much as Fury had on bringing him home. As the buildings of Wilton came back into view, Michael’s thoughts returned to their obsession with the wayward American. Where would she be hiding?
What if she had taken the afternoon coach?

“No, My Lord, no young ladies or lads on the coach today. Only two men and an older woman.” The Innkeeper at the Blue Bell shook his head. Michael was grateful this one was not the same scraggly youth who had been unaware of Kathryn earlier that morning.

“Have you by chance seen a gentle lad dressed shabbily in his Father’s clothes?”

“Well, yes, now you mention…odd fellow, excuse me, odd woman in truth asked for the road to London. Had no shoes on. I noticed special cause when he, umm she, quit the door, the taproom men stopped their yapping and stared. She was a piece, mind you. Hard to miss. No 19

Duke of Her Dreams – Olivia Ritch

mistakin’ her for a man even though she was in breeches. Small hands, and feet and well, she hadn’t been able to disguise everything. She didn’t stop at the door even with all those eyes trained her way, just walked right out into the street with no shoes.” He clucked his tongue, clearly puzzled.

Yes, that would be her, someone who drew eyes not even realizing she was causing heads to turn. “How long ago?”

“Been a while. An hour maybe two. I was worried she would walk out onto that road and be first target for some highwayman. Man or woman can’t look right dressed as that.”

Michael tossed a coin onto the counter tipped his hat and strode briskly for the door signaling the lad who had led Thunder away. If she had been walking an hour, it would take him but a matter of minutes to overtake her. As long as she was on the road and not stopping or worse… He pushed the unwelcome thought from his mind. Hauling the sack of ladies clothes up onto Thunder’s broad back, Michael mounted in one fluid motion and raced from the inn yard toward the errant American.

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