“Welcome to my home. I’m the Duke of Peddleton.” He stood straight, his eyes tracing Lady Caroline’s face.
“Thank you,” she murmured softly.
Something strange happened. Behind Lady Caroline, her maid appeared to nudge her. At once, Lady Caroline cleared her throat, lifting her chin a little higher. When she spoke again, her voice was a little louder and clearer to hear.
“I am glad to meet you at last.”
Marcus smiled. He had a feeling that Lady Caroline was holding much back. She must have been furious to be brought here, instructed by her father that she was to be married without ever meeting her betrothed.
Marcus cast a glance at the lady’s maid, wondering why she wasn’t helping get her mistress’ bags down from the coach. His eyes found the maid’s face and saw there were similarities between the two ladies.
They both had similarly dark hair, though the maid’s eyes were blue, and they were missing something of the intensity in Lady Caroline’s face. At his glance, the maid seemed to realize what she had to do. She darted off towards the back of the carriage.
Marcus took the opportunity to step towards his future bride.
My bride … how can a woman be so beautiful yet not be taken by marriage?
“I know there is much for us to talk about,” he whispered to the lady, conscious of the staff that had gathered who were now watching him. “Perhaps first, we could start with a tour of the house?” He offered his arm to her, worried for a minute that she might not take it.
He wouldn’t have blamed her for throwing insults at him, for even cursing at him after what he had done, but contrary to his expectations, she offered him another one of those demure smiles, then her hand slipped into the crook of his elbow. She had petite and elegant fingers that rested perfectly on his arm. He inhaled sharply, startled at the power of that touch.
She nodded, not saying much as he led her towards the house. They were walking up the stairs towards the front door when she tripped suddenly on the hem of her gown, for she was too busy looking around and not where she was putting her feet.
Marcus acted on instinct, reaching out with his other hand to catch her. As he held onto her arm, his other hand caught her around the waist.
A breathy gasp escaped her lips as she stared up at him.
Those eyes …
He had come far too close by catching her, far closer than was appropriate. Seeing those eyes so near was making him think of the way they could stare at him if he pleasured her – if he were to make love to her. Would they stare at him then in equal wonder?
“Thank you,” she whispered again, standing straight and steadying herself. He released her waist slowly, in no rush to let go of her. She blushed such a deep shade of red that he felt the tension hovering in the air between them.
I have not known such sparks in years.
“Well, at least I have done one thing right in our association so far,” he jested quietly. She smiled again as he led her into the house. They stepped through the door and into the bright hallway.
She untied her bonnet, pulling open the ribbons, her eyes drinking in the sight of the room. Marcus didn’t even glance at the tall windows or the high steps nearby, bordered with the dark wooden banister.
Neither did he look at the light wooden floor, the fine rugs, nor the pastoral landscapes on the walls. He’d seen it all a thousand times before and was much more interested in gazing at Lady Caroline’s face as she admired the place.
“Goodness,” she said softly. “It is a beautiful place.” She took off her bonnet, and he tried to be helpful, taking it from her as his eyes raked over her black locks.
Her hair was perhaps not the finest updo he would have expected, but he found that all the more endearing, as if Lady Caroline was slightly rough around the edges. He noticed, too, that when she spoke, her accent was not as formal as he would have thought either, though she seemed to be trying to make it more so.
That may be in my imagination.
Marcus glanced back, checking to see how alone with his betrothed he was. Her lady’s maid was now hurrying up the steps with one of her portmanteaus as his footmen carried the rest. There seemed to be a lot of bags to take to her new chamber.
“That is quite a look, My Lady,” Marcus whispered to her, longing to be completely alone.
“What look?” She jerked her head away to look at him instead of the hall.
“That look of wonder. Any man must be lucky to be looked at in such a way.”
“Ah, they must earn that look first,” she teased him.
Startled by the quiet wit, he chuckled deeply as she smiled.
