She could do what she aways did and lose herself in the story and forget everything about the day. In her fantasies, she could be who she wanted to be and not think about tomorrow. It was what she always did when life became too difficult. Now that she was back home with her grandfather, she would need it more than ever.
There was only one problem with the plan. There were parts of today she definitely wanted to remember. Talking to Grandfather had been horrible, as usual. But the duke had eased the sting of that when he’d told her she was pretty.
He’d actually paid attention to her at dinner. It was not unusual that he’d spoken to her. They were directly across the table and he couldn’t exactly look past her. But there had been a moment when he’d seemed to forget what he was saying. He’d been looking straight at her when that had happened. Was it something about her that had distracted him? What could it have been?
She gave the book cover a gentle pat, then left it where it was. Then, she turned and walked through the French doors on the opposite wall, out into the garden. The moon was bright, but she did not need the light of it to find her way. When she was home, her happiest hours were spent out here, tending the plants or walking past the landscaping and down the hill to the fieldsbeyond.
Since it was high summer the flowers were in full bloom, the night bloomers open, their scents mingling with the herbs in the knot at the centre. She reached out and pinched a bit of sage, holding a dusty green leaf to her nose. The smell of that was a fantasy in itself. She’d heard that witches could work spells with it, banishing evil and changing their world.
‘Enjoying the evening?’
She dropped the herb and turned to see the duke standing on the path a few feet away from her.
‘I didn’t mean to startle you,’ he said, holding his empty hands up in front of him. ‘I just saw the open door and thought it might be nice to get some fresh air.’
‘Where is Percy?’ she asked, looking past him.
‘Setting up a card table in the salon,’ he said. ‘Will you be joining us?’
‘It has been a long day,’ she said evasively.
‘Not so long that you won’t take a turn around the garden with me, I hope,’ he said stepping closer and offering her his arm.
She only hesitated for a moment. If the place was lovely before, it would be even better if she had a memory of sharing it with him. She tucked her arm into the crook of his elbow as if it was the most natural thing in the world and they walked side by side down the path.
As they strolled along, she allowed herself to stray a little too close to him, letting his coat sleeve brush against her shoulder, just as she imagined real lovers might.
Next to her, he sighed in contentment, as if he agreed. ‘The flowers are lovely.’
‘I chose them,’ she said, reaching out to touch a blossom as they passed. ‘And I helped with the design of the paths and beds. It is the only thing I would miss if I left here.’
‘Does your grandfather enjoy it as well?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘He cannot see this place from his window.’
‘Which is why you like to visit it, I suppose,’ he said perceptively. ‘Were you designing gardens like this when you first came here? You were only a child.’
She smiled, embarrassed. ‘The back of the house was spare when we first arrived. There was only a small kitchen garden. But Grandfather wanted the house to look like a grand estate. So, I made a few sketches and learned as I went along.’ She shrugged.
‘It is as good as anything I have seen at the homes of my friends,’ he insisted. ‘You are very talented. Perhaps, someday, you might come to my home and advise my gardener.’
‘Your farm, you mean?’ she teased, remembering the parts they were supposed to be playing.
He laughed. ‘That’s right. I am sure you will want to make many changes when we get there. It is in a sorry state and needs a woman’s touch.’
‘I will be happy to help,’ she said, allowing herself to live in the dream he’d created for just a moment.
‘Your grandfather is a fool,’ he said suddenly. ‘He would have to be, to have something so beautiful, so close, and ignore it.’
Perhaps it was a trick of the moonlight, but there was something about the way he was looking at her that made her wonder if they were still speaking of the garden.
‘It is his loss,’ he added and she felt a gentle squeeze on her arm. ‘Is that a bench I see at the end of the path?’
‘It has a very nice view of the surrounding land,’ she said.
‘You must show me,’ he urged, smiling down at her.
She led him to the seat. He removed his handkerchief from his pocket to brush it off before inviting her to sit. Then, he took the place at her side.
