You accept Pandora, regardless of her quirks (I have a separate note on that). You even respected something as unorthodox as a hobby of collecting and talking to rocks. What is important to those you care about is important to you.
The rock you gave me at the cove was the most precious gift I have ever received. I think it was the first time I felt as though someone might be able to accept me, flaws and all. I wish I could put into words what that means to me. But as always with you, words fail me.
And now, for the sake of complete honesty, I need to fess up to something: I have never collected rocks, nor named them, nor talked to them.
But I do now.
My collection starts with yours. The beauty you gave me is resting on my nightstand. She and I had quite the chat last night after I acted like England’s biggest bloody arsehat. Anyhow, I was thinking we could call her Wilhemina, Willow for short…since you found her by Willow Grove.
Well, that little sniveling sly-boots! She smiled, shaking her head at the note. At the silly bloody fool. She should have guessed, she supposed. He’d admitted over their chess match that he had been trying to dissuade her. And with every attempt, she had only fallen harder.
She started up the steps again. By the time she found her next note, she was panting. So. Many. Blasted. Stairs. Ash couldn’t have picked somewhere with about fifty fewer steps? She snatched up the next note. Thank goodness he had left these to break up the climb.
How you are with my daughter.
I am sure you are unaware, but the morning after you arrived, while we were breaking our fast, Pandora provided you with the perfect opportunity to extend your stay here. She desperately wanted you to remain for her birthday. But you chose not to prey on a young girl’s hopes. In that moment, I knew I was in grave, grave trouble.
You may have attempted seduction with scandalous dresses and suggestive statements—but seeing you comfort Pandora after my near-accident at the arena? Seeing you provide advice to her woman-to-woman in our kitchens? Helping her gain confidence in dancing a waltz? Never judging her and embracing her instead? It was the most effective seduction tactic you never intended to employ.
You are everything I could have ever wanted in a mother for Pandora.
Goodness, everything was tight all of a sudden. Her chest, her throat, her lungs. She fanned herself. Were the walls closer than before? She could swear there was less air to be had now. She blinked rapidly and gruffly cleared her throat. That bloody Duke was going to have her puffy-eyed and blotchy-red if he kept this up.
She hurried up the steps and paused at the last window—the last note—the doorway to the top of the tower only a handful of steps away.
You are strong. You are tenacious. You are a warrior. You are a goddess walking amongst mortals.
My Freya.
There are endless reasons I could list in these notes, Lissy, but there are some things that I would prefer to tell you in person. I’d ask that you ascend the remaining steps and join me at the top of the tower.
—Your Duke
She paused and took a bracing breath. Which did absolutely bloody nothing to calm her rioting heart. Then she took the remaining stairs and stepped out onto the observation deck.
And was stunned by a sunset setting the heavens afire.
Ash’s silhouette, his back to her, stood stark against the burning reds and oranges and pinks streaking through the darkening purple-black sky. Tapers littered the tower’s stone floor, hundreds—if she were to guess—scattered around the perimeter. She followed the small path left from the doorway to the center of the tower where blankets were strewn across the floor. Her eyes flew to a basket, a bottle of wine, glasses, and finally back to Ash—facing her now.
“What is all this?” And even though she whispered, her voice was loud in the quiet dusk air.
A soft breeze kicked up, and the flames of the torches lining the walls of the round tower created dancing shadows on the stone. She shivered, and Ash quickly strode to her, snagging one of the many blankets along the way, and wrapped it around her shoulders.
He stepped up close to her, his stormy blue gaze, the color nearly discernible in the rapidly fading light, glued to hers.
She opened her mouth, but he silenced her with a finger to her lips and a small shake of his head.
His knuckles grazed over her jaw. “There are a few things I would like to say to you, should you be so inclined to grant me the opportunity.”
She dipped her chin, gaze remaining locked on his.
“My entire life I have always felt so alone here, growing up and throughout my marriage. In a place so massive you get lost, even from yourself. It is not a cozy, warm place to live. It never felt like home. No matter how hard I tried, it never felt like home.”
He reached out, trapping a loose tendril of hair the soft breeze had sent fluttering over her face. “Until you, Felicity.” He tucked it behind her ear and cradled her cheek. “Until you stepped foot inside. And I tried to ignore the fact. Because you were young and betrothed to my son.
“I tried to hide from it, from the strong pull you have on me. Something that should be easy in a castle such as this. But it seems no matter how hard I fight it, I cannot hide—cannot keep myself away from you.”
He let his hand drop and looked away. “I thought it was fate’s way of punishing me, and I welcomed that. It was nothing less than I deserved.”
