Without waiting for her response, he turned and left the drawing room. He had won battles before. He would win this one too, no matter how long the siege.
"June, when do you plan on putting that poor duke out of his misery?" April asked, linking her arm through June's as they rounded a perfectly trimmed hedge. They were strolling through the gardens, enjoying the rare sunlight since winter began. Aweek had passed since Dominic's unexpected arrival, but one that had been filled with extravagant gestures that left her both flattered and frustrated.
She adjusted her wool cloak against the chill, trying to ignore the sound of children's laughter drifting across the lawns. Trying, and failing, not to search for the source of that deep, masculine laugh that accompanied the higher voices; the laugh that still made her heart skip traitorously in her chest.
May chuckled from June's other side. "He's like a lovesick schoolboy. The servants have started a wager on how many more days you'll make him suffer."
June shot her sisters a reproving look. "I'm not making him suffer. I'm considering my options."
"Options?" April laughed. "Since when do you have options beyond the Duke of Icemere? You've been infatuated with the man since you were sixteen."
"I was not infatuated," June protested, though her cheeks warmed at the accusation. "I merely found him intellectually stimulating."
"Is that what they're calling it these days?" May murmured, adjusting her spectacles with exaggerated innocence.
June opened her mouth to deliver a sharp retort when April touched her arm, directing her attention across the lawn. "Look," she said softly.
Against her better judgment, June turned. There, in a patch of winter sunlight, Dominic played with April and May's children. His fine coat lay discarded on a bench, his cravat loosened, his usually perfect hair tousled by exertion and the playful hands of her nieces and nephews. As she watched, he swung little Leonardo in a circle, the boy's delighted shriek carrying across the garden. Rydal, Logan's young brother who was visiting for the season, darted around them, clearly waiting for his turn.
Dominic looked different here than he had in London or even at Icemere. Younger somehow, unburdened. The man who had carried her from the ruins was visible in the strength of his movements, but there was a lightness to him now that she had never seen before.
Because he's free from the shadow that haunted him all his life.
"You should see the list of things he's done this week," May said, drawing June's attention back to her sisters.
"List?" June arched an eyebrow.
May nodded. "I've been keeping a record. For posterity."
"And to tease you with later," April added cheerfully.
May began counting on her fingers. "Daily bouquets, each with a different handwritten poem about your eyes, your wit, or your 'magnificent scholarly mind,' as he put it on Tuesday."
"The commissioned painting of the Oxford library where you first met," April continued. "Which, I might add, required him to dispatch a rider to Oxford with specific instructions for the artist."
"Arranging for Professor Everett to visit," May added. "The Egyptian scholar you've wanted to meet for years? He's bringing actual artifacts from a recent expedition."
June's eyes widened. "Professor Everett is coming here? To Stone Manor?"
"Tomorrow afternoon," April confirmed. "The duke convinced him to make a detour on his journey to Cambridge."
"And let's not forget," May continued, "he's endured our relentless teasing with remarkable good humor."
"Particularly when I told him about the time you practiced writing 'June Blake, Duchess of Icemere' all over your diary," April said with a grin.
"You didn't!" June gasped in mortification.
"Of course I did. He turned the most interesting shade of crimson, but smiled like he'd been given the crown jewels."
June turned away, pretending to adjust her gloves so her sisters wouldn't see the way her lips curved upward. She had maintained her distance this past week, accepting Dominic's gestures with polite gratitude but offering little encouragement in return. Pride, perhaps. Or fear. Or simply the need to know that his pursuit was genuine, not merely the result of guilt.
"He loves you and you love him, so stop being stubborn," April declared, nudging June's shoulder. "Some of us aren't fortunate enough to have a handsome duke pursuing us with such determination."
"You're already married to a duke," June pointed out.
"Yes, but Theo never wrote me poetry. Though to be fair, we're all grateful for that. His verses would likely involve horses and hunting."
June couldn't help but laugh at that. She glanced again toward Dominic, who now had little Annabelle on his shoulders, her tiny hands clutching his dark hair for balance. Something in her chest softened at the sight.
