“But there’s my acknowledged passion for castles,” he pointed out. “And I haven’t seen the dungeons yet. Please tell me you have dungeons. Every castle must possess them to be worthy of its name. Along with the requisite ghosts, rattling chains and distant screams of agony as the spirits of tortured prisoners shriek for eternity.”
Ivy rolled her eyes. “I forgot to add that you have an unusually colourful imagination for a peer of the realm.”
“Someone has to break the mould,” he replied.
Apparently she needed to give that comment some consideration, since her only response was a chuckle. They strolled back to Siddington together, arm-in-arm, warmed by the sunshine and at ease with each other. For the Duke, it was another in a series of rare and unexpected moments of enjoyment. As if he had laid aside his ducal obligations and could simply be a man relishing the companionship of a woman he…he what?
A conundrum that would need an answer.
But for now, just being, naturally existing in this idyllic afternoon with Ivy, was enough.
Chapter Nine
The sun shone until late afternoon, dimming slowly as clouds darkened the western horizon and thickened ominously.
The Siddington party was finishing tea in the parlour as Elvina strolled to the window and looked out. “Storm coming, I would say.” She sighed. “The rain is always welcome and at least it held off until you both returned.”
Ivy glanced up from the desk. “We’re tracing our route on this old map. It is so interesting…”
The Duke bent over beside her, chuckled. “I cannot believe I am actually staring at something that was drawn nearly three hundred years ago.” He reverently touched the paper with a fingertip. “How it has remained in such good condition, I will never understand.”
Lady Siddington nodded from her comfortable chair. “We try to take the best care possible of our legacy, your Grace. I’m sure you do the same. These things are part of the Siddington estate, of course, but I’ve always believed that we are holding our history in trust for future generations. I hate the thought of having to sell anything, for example.” She sighed. “But it’s likely that in time the need will arise. I just hope I won’t be here to see it.”
Maidenbrooke smiled in agreement. “Well this map is certainly a treasure for the family.” He turned back. “But this stream here…it appears to be on a different course than the one we saw this afternoon, Ivy?”
She looked at where he was pointing, noting the terrain and the charming illustrations done by a long-ago hand. “I believe there was probably some sort of landslide here.” She gestured to the edge of an escarpment. “Those slopes are so gentle now. Nowhere near as steep as they’re shown. So if they fell…”
“They would push the river to re-route itself around them. Yes, I see. That does make sense.”
Ivy watched her fiancé pore with fascination over the ancient document. There was no pretence there, no effort to gain favour by praising a Siddington relic, just a clear and obvious curiosity.
Close enough to breathe in the fragrance of man, sandalwood and fresh air, she briefly closed her eyes and sniffed, inhaling, finding it very much to her taste.
As were his kisses.
In spite of his much-vaunted reserve, his Grace the Duke of Maidenbrooke possessed the skills of a passionate man; skills Ivy guessed he would bring to the marriage bed. She watched his gaze, riveted by something he’d noticed on the map. Would he bring that intensity to the act of love? Would he look at her the same way?
He held an old and respected title, his reputation was one of cold and unemotional demeanour—expected of the very wealthy—and he maintained that appearance almost all the time. Few would imagine he could be so intrigued by an old map. Even fewer would imagine the fire she had sensed within his kiss. And yet she knew it was there.
Which brought her around to the knowledge she was desperately trying to avoid.
She wanted him for her husband.
Fate had presented him in a neatly, if scandalously, wrapped package. The entire situation had forced her to this moment, the instant when she accepted her feelings about this man.
Was it love? She wasn’t sure. How did one know? He didn’t look any different to her, but she now understood the tiny shiver that made her catch her breath when he looked at her, and the quickened beat of her heart when he took her hand, or smiled at her, or danced with her or…
Oh, good Lord.
The distant rumble of thunder was echoed by a sudden accelerated thudding within her breast. Ever practical, Ivy closed her eyes for a moment or two—and accepted the truth. Yes, there was a very strong probability that she’d gone and fallen in love with the Duke of Maidenbrooke.
It was unexpected, improbable and unlikely, and yet it had happened. When, she couldn’t say, but there it was, staring her in the face, defying her to turn aside from the evidence.
“Don’t you agree?” He glanced up at her.
“Er…your pardon, Colly. My mind was wandering.”
Another rumble of thunder preceded a gust of wind that rattled the windows and drew everyone’s attention. Ivy was grateful that even the Duke looked surprised.
“Perhaps we should adjourn.” Lady Siddington stood. “Dinner at half-past six, my dears. Early, I know, but we keep country hours.”
“And this storm may well keep us up half the night,” frowned Elvina. “My bones are telling me it’ll be a rough one when it hits.”
Lightning
