Chapter One
Langford Hall
Yorkshire, England
December 1817
“Grimes, tell herto go away.”
Ailis Temple heard the Duke of Ramsdale’s deeply resonant grumbling as she stood behind his butler, who had told her to wait in the visitor’s parlor while he informed the duke of her presence.
Ailis was through waiting for the surly duke to beat homefor her. Did he not owe her more courtesy considering how bitterly cold it was on this winter’s day? Not to mention there was a snowstorm about to converge on their quiet village, and she needed to get back to the vicarage before the snow began to fall in earnest. “I have no intention of going away, Your Grace.”
Your Gracelesswas the more apt term for this oaf of a man.
“Ah, Miss Temple. I am in no humor for your visit today,” he said, frowning as he set aside some correspondence he had been reading that seemed to have displeased him. He rose from his chair and came around his massive desk that was piled high with more correspondence, invitations, and documents, to greet her with noticeable reluctance.
“This is the third time I have called upon you this week. Each time, you have turned me away. But I cannot allow it this time,for you are never in good humor,” she remarked, trying not to shiver. The shiver had nothing to do with him but with the cold that had settled into her bones, a result of spending too much time outdoors on this raw day.
Fortunately, the duke had a lovely fire blazing in the hearth. She wanted to edge toward it, but his big body blocked her way as he stood beside her.
He stared down at her.
She smiled back at him. “I can see you are busy, so let us get straight to the point.”
He sighed and nodded to Grimes. “Bring tea for Miss Temple. Her nose is an alarming shade of pink and in danger of falling off.”
“It is nothing of the sort,” Ailis muttered, touching the tip of it.
He then had the temerity to grin as he reached out to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. “Her ears are also pink and in danger of falling off.”
Ugh.
This man was such a churl.
Of course, he was an impossibly handsome churl, and ladies could not look upon his dark eyes and dark hair that held a dash of silver at the temples without falling into a swoon. Fortunately, she was impervious to his charms…or lack thereof.
She was also undaunted by his impressive height and brawn.
“Have a seat beside the fire, Miss Temple,” he said once his butler had gone off to attend to the task of ordering her tea. “The dangerous chill outside is no jest. What is it your uncle wants from me now? And why does he not have the courage to ask me himself?”
“As you well know,” she said, settling in the comfortable leather chair he had offered and enjoying the warmth of the blaze upon her cheeks, “Vicar Temple has pressing duties aboutthe parish and relies on me to handle the church’s financial matters.”
His snort was dismissive as he sank into the chair beside her. Despite its ample breadth, his broad shoulders were almost too large for the chair. “He thinks your pleasing smile and emerald eyes will soften a man and encourage him to open up his coffers. What is the dire need this time? Leaking roof? Crumbling stones?”
“Meals and other essentials for the poorest in the village,” she said, clenching her fists in frustration. “You do remember the widows and orphans, the sick and disabled, who reside in this parish. A parish that rests within your demesne. Or are you too busy to think of anyone other than yourself?”
He chuckled heartily. “By heaven, you are as frosty as today’s weather.”
Sighing, she apologized. “I do not mean to sound waspish, but you sorely frustrate me. How do I get through to you? How do I convince you of the importance of caring for others when you seem to disdain everyone?”
He was spared a response when Grimes returned with a tea cart laden with cakes as well as a teapot and cups.
This surprised Ailis, for she did not expect to be treated as courteously as he might treat a guest of rank. Obviously, Grimes had misunderstood the duke’s request. Yet the duke did not appear to be angry or the least put out.
Instead, he regarded her thoughtfully. “Grimes, hold on. Take Miss Temple’s cloak and gloves. Her hat and scarf, too.”
Did this mean he would allow her to stay and discuss the contributions he would make? Would he also agree to participate in the St. Augustine’s Christmas charity ball? It wasn’t really a ball so much as an all-day festival with games, baked goods, gifts for the children, and musical entertainments.
