She covered her papers with the book another time and shakily stood to her feet. With her ankle still sore but slowly beginning to improve, she was able to hobble across the library and reach for the bell pull suspended from the ceiling beside the fire. She pulled lightly on it a couple of times, knowing that somewhere deep within the house, it would ring a bell.
She stumbled back towards her chair, lifting her foot onto the cushion again as she waited for a response, looking towards the door repeatedly. Eventually, she heard footsteps on the other side, the sign of someone walking across the marble floor.
When the library door opened, she could see through the candlelight the face of Mr Arnold, smiling when his eyes found her.
“You called for me, Your Grace?”
Chapter 10
Owen couldn’t stop himself from walking forward into the room when he found how great the duchess’ smile became at his entrance. He eagerly closed the door behind him and walked towards her, pretending to be formal, though there was a lilt to his voice that showed he wanted to be anything but.
“Was it a drink you required? Tea, perhaps? Or a glass of port?” he asked.
“No,” she said, smiling at his playful voice as he reached her side.
“A light supper then?”
“No.”
“How about the fire being made up?”
“I am afraid I require nothing of you that relates to being a butler,” she said, her voice mischievous indeed as she gestured to the chair beside her.
“Then … what do you require?” he teased.
“Your company only.”
He smiled and took the chair, though he found himself incapable of leaving it where it was. He slid it across the floor instead until sitting directly in front of her, facing her, leaning forward in the chair with his elbows rested on his knees.
“How can I refuse?” he said softly as she leaned towards him too. “How is the ankle?” he asked, turning his voice serious for a minute.
“It is fine when I am not walking on it. The moment I stand, it is sore,” she explained with a wince. “I’m hoping it will recover soon, as I do not want to spend every day of my life locked away in this house.”
“That is rather how I see you at times,” he admitted with a grimace.
“What do you mean? You see me like some sort of prisoner trapped here?”
“I have thought that in the past. Am I very wrong?”
“Well, I wish I could say you were wrong, but that would be a lie,” she said, leaning towards him too. They were now so close that his knees practically brushed hers. He steepled his hands together, using the pressed fingers to slyly brush the side of her arm as she rested it on the side of the chair. “I rather suppose my father didn’t consider that aspect when he married me off to the duke.”
“Your Grace, may I ask something incredibly … personal?”
“Considering the way you kissed my hand earlier today, I feel barriers are gone now, Mr Arnold. You do not need to ask permission for such things.” Her words warmed him. He grew bolder and moved his hand closer to her arm, loving the way it turned from a teasing touch to something more intimate.
“Why did your father marry you to the duke? I would have wagered good money it was not a marriage for love.”
“Astute indeed,” she teased. The smile lasted for a minute until it wavered slightly, and she looked down at the connection of his hand brushing her arm. “When my mother died, it is fair to say my father’s world fell apart. I did not realize the extent of trouble he had got himself into with his gambling. I do not think my mother realized it either. At least, in a way, that is some comfort.”
She paused, showing it was clearly difficult to speak of. Owen took the opportunity to slide his hand down her arm, reaching for her hand. As their fingers entwined together, he could see the way her breath hitched, and she wriggled in her chair.
I love having this effect on you, Your Grace.
It was warming to know he wasn’t the only one that seemed to be under a kind of spell.
“After my mother died, my father grew bolder with his gambling. It wasn’t long before he had lost a fortune and people began to hear of it. His name was even mentioned in a scandal sheet. He was determined to repair his reputation, and he could only see two possible routes for that to happen.”
The duchess looked up from their hands to his eyes. “Either he could marry a well-reputed woman, something he was not prepared to do after losing my mother, or he could marry me off to a well-reputed man.”
