The Heart of a Duke (12 page)

“You did not.”

“I did. I would have gotten away with it as I had for over a week, but Mary Reynolds took umbrage to her shoes being his second course. As if she did not have enough pairs, carrying on so over the loss of a few.” She frowned, still irked at the memory.

Daniel threw back his head and laughed.

“I am glad you find it amusing. Mary and the headmistress did not see the humor in it,” she continued in a more serious vein. “Truth be told, I was always horrifically homesick. I was better off with a governess. I belong here.”

“Looks like we both managed to figure out a way to get where we wanted to be, despite our challenges.” He paused. “I am sorry about your mother and Jason, Julia. Sorry I was not here for you during that difficult time. It must have been lonely, handling so much on your own.”

His compassion caught her off guard. She dropped her gaze, blinking at the stinging behind her eyes. No one had ever dared to address those years, or thought to ask how she had fared.

She had been so scared, tired, and desperately lonely after she had lost her mother, watching despair steal first her father and then Emily from her. Her loneliness was compounded when all of her friends married and drifted away as they built their own families.

For the first time in years, she found herself wanting to confide in someone who would understand how deeply alone one can be while still surrounded by family.

“My father blamed Jonathan for my mother’s death.” It was a confidence she had shared with no one. She spoke softly, the pain of those years still raw. “He refused to see him. He would travel, visit other estates, or stay in London. Anything to keep him away from home. So I did what I had to. I took care of Jonathan and worked with the bailiff to keep things running.”

He nodded. “I cannot imagine you would do anything less.”

The compliment was like a warm wave suffusing her, moving her almost as much as seeing her family heal. His praise meant something, for he was the first to deliver it.

“Your father was devoted to your mother, so I can only imagine the depth of his loss. Few marriages have what your parents had. Mine certainly did not. What turned him around?”

That brought a smile to her lips. “One day, when Jonathan had turned two, he was outside with his nurse. She got distracted and he disappeared. My father thankfully was home then, and he orchestrated the search for him. We found him in an empty well. He had slipped in feet first and by God’s grace, landed in the bucket, which held his weight.” Daniel’s hand closed over hers as she drew a ragged breath. She did not pull away from the quiet comfort he offered. “When he was hauled up and into my father’s arms, it severed whatever held my father tethered to his grief. It took the near loss of his son for my father to find him.”

“Sometimes it takes the threat of losing something precious for someone to realize its true value.”

“Like Lakeview Manor?”

“Yes,” he said, as if he’d been considering something else of which he had belatedly realized its value. “And Emily? How did you almost lose her, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“She loved Jason in the same manner as my father loved my mother. And she did not have a child to pull her back. It was like a light had been snuffed out inside of her. She went to a very dark place, and . . . there were times, I feared she would never return. I thought if I took her away from everything that reminded her of Jason, it would help her to heal. I took her to Windermere, in the Lake District, and with time and distance, she began to find her way back to us, like my father.”

“They were both fortunate to have you.”

Surprised, she glanced at him. When his eyes smiled into hers, her voice dropped to a quiet murmur, for she feared if she spoke too loud she would sever this fragile thread binding them. “They would do the same for me.”

“I do not doubt it. That is the difference between your family and mine. Edmund and I never had that. I was not close with my father either, but in his last years, he did make more of an effort to seek out my company.” He shrugged. “I suspect he had spent so many years grooming Edmund for the title, that he was trying to catch up with me during those last few years.”

She turned her hand palm up, threading her fingers through his. For just a few minutes. The silence that settled over them was comfortable, the bond tethering them together sweet. She did not want to let go of it just yet.

“I apologize, Julia. I should have been honest with you earlier about Edmund’s and my relationship, but I wanted the chance to begin again with you. To set things right. I agreed to assist you with this venture for my father’s sake and yours, not Edmund’s. In truth, my brother never crossed my mind. I promised to assist you, and I will not renege on that.”

Her faithful squire
.

Her pulse skittered, and she withdrew her hand from his, needing to regain some distance. Needing to ignore the tumultuous feelings the simple touch of his hand evoked. Like a gentle caress, it stoked buried yearnings. Ones he could not answer.

She gripped her fishing rod with both hands. “I appreciate your helping me. If Edmund will not listen, you don’t perchance have any other ideas of what we can do?”

He shifted his position on the hard bench. “Well, we still have the ace up our sleeve.”

“What ace?”

“
You
. Edmund has a right to reject my interference, but you are his fiancée, who can be very persuasive when she wishes to be. You got me to kiss—”

“Yes, yes. Let us not revise that.” She ignored his low rumble of laughter.

“Edmund must know of and admire your fine head for business. He has to be aware of how much of an asset you will be to him.”

“Well, I am not sure . . . That is . . .” Her voice trailed off.

Daniel continued. “I can imagine that at the beginning of your courtship, Edmund, like most men, was dazzled by your beauty. That is understandable, but as he got to know you better, I am sure that, like myself, he saw how clever you are, so it is little surprise that he asked for your hand.”

She did not think Daniel should be saying such things. He should not be discussing her dazzling beauty or her cleverness, but she could not summon up the will to stop him.

“Edmund clearly perceived you to be an intelligent woman who spoke her mind. One he would want to keep at his side at all times.” He shrugged. “That is where I would keep you. If you were mine, I would never let you out of my sight. I would be afraid someone might steal you from me, for you would be my most valued asset. I would have to keep you under lock and key.”

The sweet tenor of his voice was low and seductive, and like trailing a tantalizing aroma, she followed his words off topic and into dangerous territory. Riveted, she struggled to remember what they were discussing. Hadn’t a clue. All she heard was
intelligent woman
and
most valued asset
. Cheeks burning, she needed to end things before she couldn’t circle back to safety. “Please, you should not say such things.”

“Why? It is the truth. Doesn’t Edmund tell you the same? Tell you how lovely you are and incredibly talented, being able to manage estates, wash dishes, sweep floors, and if asked, you probably could rebuild Lakeview Manor.” A huskiness entered his voice. “Or does he talk about the color of your eyes, how they shine like blue diamonds, or that your skin looks satin soft and how he must yearn—”

“No, no, he does not,” she snapped, desperate to quiet him, for she could bear no more. “Please, what Edmund does or does not say is not relevant. What is important is that you cannot speak to me like that because I am marrying your brother, and—”

“So you keep reminding me, which makes it difficult to forget,” Daniel grumbled. “And I really want to forget it.”

She stared at him. When his eyes met hers, she froze, for she read in them things she shouldn’t see. The smoldering intensity in his expression stirred feelings she didn’t want to feel. Touched places that had never been touched. Forbidden feelings and dangerous places. Her breath hitched and her heart ached.

She looked away. This would not do. “You need to try,” she whispered. “For me. For the sake of our friendship.”

Silence fell and Daniel said no more. He reeled his line in, lifted it from the water, and recast into the lake.

She resisted the urge to press her hand to her chest, where a throbbing ache pulsed.

She sought to appreciate the beauty of the crisp day, the windswept lake, and the distant cry of a songbird. She used to steal away to Lakeview Manor, its tranquility settling her during those years when her life had been in turmoil. She prayed for it to settle her now.

But she couldn’t focus. It was all a blur as Daniel’s words wrapped around her like a warm blanket.
Eyes like blue diamonds. Satin-soft skin. Dazzling beauty
. They were more compliments she would add to the keepsake box deep in her heart, where she could take them out and savor later, when she had no others to fill it. When she sought to recapture this moment, the touch of his hand, the sound of his voice . . .

“I have a bite,” Daniel cried, jarring her from her thoughts.

Daniel jostled her as he stood, severing the spell that had woven around her. She shook her head and stood on unsteady legs.

“He is strong.” He struggled to reel in his catch.

“Hang on,” she said, finding her voice. As she watched his line stretch taut, her nerves settled. The wind whipped her skirts around her and cooled her overheated body. She resisted the urge to reach out and grasp his fishing rod and tug with him as she would have with Jonathan. “Don’t let it get away.”

“What do you think I am doing? He is not budging.” He grunted as he yanked harder, the wooden rod arching in a half moon. “It is caught on something. Rooted.”

“Fish do not put down roots.”

“Tell that to this one,” he muttered, leaning back. “His friends are helping him, holding him back. Fish are smart, they swim in schools.”

Her gaze was glued to the line, but at his banal jest, she glanced up in surprise. It was a mistake, for his eyes danced with laughter and she feared she diagnosed the throbbing pain in her chest. Feared it was her heart being wrenched in two.

His smile faded, his eyes shifting back to the rod. “Ah, why don’t you give me a hand? Even things out?”

His words shattered her immobility, though she hesitated before placing her gloved hands over his, adding her strength.

“Now it is fair game,” he said, grinning.

He retreated a few steps and she stayed with him, frowning as the line refused to break the surface. “What . . .” Her question ended in a screech, for suddenly the line broke free with an explosive splash of water.

The tension abruptly released like a popped cork and Daniel lost his balance, stumbling backward.

Involuntarily she sought to assist him as his arm circled her waist.

His knees backed into the overturned trunk, and the next thing she knew, she was tumbling over the makeshift bench.

She cried out, vaguely aware of Daniel catching her against his side as they landed with a thud that knocked the wind from her. Daniel’s body cushioned her fall, as much as a rock-solid muscular chest could soften anything.

Daniel grunted as her elbow connected with his stomach and she ended up sprawled half on him, half beside him. Mortified at the feel of his body intimately aligned with hers, the heat of him seeping through her riding habit, she quickly rolled to the side, too winded to speak or sidle farther away. She hoped the fall had knocked some sense into her.

“Who’s idea was this?” Daniel groaned.

“You never could catch anything.”

Rather than take offense at her comments as Edmund might have, his laughter vibrated through her side in a delicious ripple.

He turned his head to face her, and his proximity stole what little breath she had managed to draw. Good lord, he was handsome. She wanted to reach out and press her finger into that enticing cleft in his chin.

“I caught you,” he whispered, his breath warm against her cheek.

It was then she realized it was not a branch digging into her back but Daniel’s arm, and he was slowly drawing her closer.

“What are you doing?” she gasped.

“Reeling you in.”

His arms were like iron bands, her body now sprawled on top of his, one of her legs intimately tucked between his.

“Let go of me!” She squirmed, then stilled when his grip tightened at her movements. The shock of his body beneath hers, a sturdy muscular wall of strength, had her hesitating, for her hips were intimately pressed to his. Mortified, she shoved at his chest, but found it immovable.

Her eyes widened when he lifted his head to sniff at her neck, as if she were a puppy dog. “What are you doing?” She arched away.

“Rosemary and mint.” He sounded pleased.

A calloused finger skimmed the curve of her cheek. She stared into his mesmerizing eyes. She was so close she could see the rim of black circling his irises, feel each breath he drew gently lifting her, savor his arms, strong and cradling her to him. Holding her. If only she could stay there for just a little while longer.

When Daniel’s fingers moved from her cheek to her lips in a featherlight touch, it brought her back to her senses. Her voice shook as she spoke. “You must stop. This is not proper.”

“And you are always proper?”

The husky cadence sent shivers down her spine and goose bumps rising on her arms. It took all her willpower to ignore them, for the answer was yes. Despite her desperately wishing it was no. She wished to be that girl who first met Daniel, reckless, daring, and so very improper. To lean low and press her lips to his as she had done that fateful day. To touch him as her heart yearned to do.

But it was not to be.

She was the dutiful daughter of an earl. She was proper, dependable, and responsible.

And she was marrying his brother.

She twisted away, the tear in her heart widening, her vision blurring. “I cannot. Please. I cannot,” she cried, planting her hands on his chest and scrambling to her feet. She swiped at a blinding strand of her hair that had tumbled loose in her fall, securing it behind her ear. “I have to go. I have to go now.” She cursed the breaking hitch in her voice.