“I’m honored to be the first you share it with.”
She threw him an abashed look, a mix of innocence and bravado. He could spend his whole life discovering every one of her facets. But then her gaze snapped forward once again as she coaxed more speed from her light-footed mare. He kept up with her easily, noting she was a splendid rider. Her seatwas elegant and confident, and she handled her mare with the perfect mixture of gentleness and assertiveness. Another thing to admire about her.
She had not exaggerated the beauty of the meadow. If anything, words did not do justice to the place. Even early in November, a showy display of purple flowers covered the ground, forming swirls and drifts of different colors that swayed on the gentle breeze. Here and there, a stalwart tree provided dappled shade.
After loosely tying the horses by the brook so they could graze and drink, they set up their blanket in the shade of a great oak and set to unpack the saddlebags.
“This smells delicious,” she said, glancing at him with such unadulterated joy that it made his heart somersault.
“I asked the kitchen to pack a full breakfast, and they took the task to heart,” he answered with a smile. “They assembled enough food to feed ten people.”
There were rolls, still warm from the oven, a pot of butter and another of marmalade, slices of ham and cheese, and a big ceramic jug of still steamy coffee liberally laced with cream and sugar.
They worked together in perfect harmony to prepare the feast, then settled to enjoy the food. The morning was chilly, but as the sun continued to rise, gilding the tops of the trees and evaporating the dew, the temperature became milder. The hot coffee was bracing, warming his body from the inside.
“I hope you are not cold. In my enthusiasm for organizing a picnic, I forgot early mornings are a bit raw this time of year.”
“Not at all. In order to ride as early as I do, my riding habits have to provide warmth. And this coffee does an excellent job of warming my insides.”
“I’m relieved to hear it. Why do you like riding so early, despite the cold?”
“I don’t know. The world is quieter, and I like to see the sun as it rises. It symbolizes the promise of a new beginning, of projects to undertake, dreams to plan.”
He smiled. Who knew his practical duchess had a romantic bend?
“And you? Why do you ride so early? Or are you only doing it to shadow me while at Stanhope Abbey?”
“No, I always do it.” He shrugged, selecting a roll and spreading butter on it. “I wake up early, and it is a time I can carve out for myself. An enchanted hour before I have to deal with the troubles and tribulations of the day.”
She paused before saying in a contemplative way, “I am aware of the troubles you face with your estate.”
“Ah, yes. My estate. A legacy I don’t deserve, in light of recent revelations.”
“If you don’t deserve your legacy, does that mean the child we may have will not deserve to be the next duke?” she asked quietly.
His head snapped up to meet her uncertain eyes. Eyes full of doubts and vulnerability.
“No. Our child will be the duke’s blood descendant. And wanted. I was neither.”
“Don’t think like that. At least you are trying to save the estate. To be honest, other than the title, you inherited nothing of value. Anything you make of your estate will be through your own effort, and therefore, you deserve it.”
“Thank you for your words, Duchess. But not even that is true. If I manage to save the estate, it will be thanks to the duke, not my own efforts.”
God, how it galled him to admit that. But it was true, and she probably knew it. She was well aware of the terms of this deal. She nodded, confirming she knew.
“Harold told me he holds the mortgages to your properties, and he intends to return them to you. It is no more than he owes you. And not for this bargain,” she added imperiously, when he would have interrupted. “He owes you because you are his son, and he has done precious little for you your whole life. But, Brentworth, restoring an estate takes a lot more than just money. It requires hard work, dedication, and cunning. I should know. Yes, he might provide the capital you need, but the effort will come from you. It is my hope that his overdue help will lessen your burdens.”
“Thank you,” he replied, touched by her belief in him. “Tell me, does it bother you that a bastard will sire your child?”
She stared at him for a few heartbeats. He almost squirmed under her intense gaze.
“Why would that bother me? You are not to blame for the sins of your parents. And from what I’ve heard of the previous earl, you are much better off not being his offspring.”
His smile was bitter this time. “That is an excellent point. But enough about me. You know more about me than I know about you, and I want to remedy that circumstance. Tell me about you.”
“Me? There’s nothing interesting to tell about me. I have had a very ordinary life.”
“I’m sure that’s not true. Tell me about your family. Do you have siblings?”
