by Lori Wick
part of the city and stopped before a grand mansion.
"Why, Roddy," Lucinda spoke with surprise. "This is the
old Wood mansion."
"Come along, my dear" was his only reply as he stepped
from the carriage and held out his hand for her. He led her to
the front door. Lucinda paused in indecision when Roddy
opened it without knocking and stepped inside.
"Come along," he turned back to say to her. "It's all right."
Lucinda followed him uncertainly and gaped at the interior.
Not only was no one there to greet them, but Lucinda
could not see a stick of furniture in any direction.
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"Well, what do you think?" Roddy wished to know.
"Of what?" Lucinda asked, feeling more confused than
ever.
"This home."
Lucinda looked around. "Roddy, it's beautiful, but I'm still
not sure what--"
"Have I ever told you that I love you, Lucinda? I mean,
really told you how I felt? I'm not sure that I have."
Lucinda was so dumbfounded by his words that she could
only stare at him while he paced around and spoke.
"It's taken me forever to gain the courage to ask you about
us, and I'm still nervous. It helped to buy this place, but I'm still
uncertain."
"Uncertain over what?" Lucinda asked, wondering if she
had heard him correctly about the purchase of the mansion.
"Uncertain if you'll take me seriously when I ask you... to
be my wife. I'm sure you've noticed a change in me. That was
to help you see where my intentions were headed. Then I
found this house and thought it would be the clincher.
"Now, I still have time to back out of the deal, but if you like
it, it will be ours after we're married."
Roddy stopped then. Lucinda's eyes were swimming with
tears.
"I've loved you for so long, Roddy," she whispered
"As I have you." His voice was just as soft. "Now, what's
it to be, Cinda. You have two questions to answer--yes or
no to my proposal, sloppy as it was, and yes or no to the
house?"
Roddy paused then and took a deep breath. "Please let the
first one be yes, Cinda."
"Oh, Roddy. I don't care where we live."
Roddy's chest heaved with relief for just an instant, and
then he was there, standing before her, his arms reaching to
hold her close. Lucinda's eyes closed when she felt his arms,
and then his lips pressed against her cheek before they met
; own. Lucinda's heart pounded. She was going to marry her
st friend; she was going to be Roddy's wife.
Stacy's second train ride was vastly different from her I first. Then she'd ridden in crowded conditions with the Binks
'and ate the food Hettie had sent with her. Now she was
experiencing a whole new world with her husband They ate
in a private car, had a private sleeping compartment, and not
once did she grow cold or have to clean up after herself. It was
her first taste of life as a duchess, and although Stacy tried to
take it in stride, she knew that she often looked like a child at a
circus.
Tanner seemed greatly amused by her response, but also
touched. He was as tender a husband as Stacy could have
dreamed of, and it seemed that she loved him a little more
with each passing hour. By the time they arrived at the train
station in Middlesbrough, Stacy was floating on a cloud of
adoration.
i Price hired a coach as soon as they disembarked. Within
minutes they were on their way to Morgan.
"Tanner," Stacy spoke when the coach was underway. "My
grandfather is not a wealthy man.",
Tanner looked at his wife's face and felt the familiar
squeezing sensation around his heart. She was infinitely precious
to him. He knew very well that Andrew Daniels was
without substantial means and had already spoken with Price
on the matter. All concerned were to see to it that Stacy was
not made uncomfortable in any way.
"Tanner, did you hear me?" Stacy spoke again when he
remained silent for so long.
"Yes. Does it bother you that your grandfather isn't a
wealthy man?"
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"It doesn't bother me; I grew up that way. I just don't want
you to be, well, inconvenienced"
"Will we have a bed?"
"Of course." Stacy blinked at him in surprise.
"And food to eat?"
"Yes."
"Then I shall be quite comfortable."
Stacy nodded, tucked her arm within Tanner's, and laid
her head on his shoulder with a sigh of contentment--a
contentment that wavered as soon as Stacy and Tanner were
alone in her bedroom. She watched him take in their modest
surroundings, finishing with the small bed.
"I'm sorry, Tanner. I wish the bed were bigger."
"Oh, I don't know," Tanner said calmly. "It means I'll need
to snuggle very close to my wife tonight."
"You mean you really don't mind?"
"Will you mind my snuggling close?" Tanner asked with a
raised brow.
Stacy laughed She darted around a chair and pointed at
him.
"That was not a challenge."
"Challenge or not, this should be an interesting game,"
Tanner countered as he began to stalk her. Just as Tanner was
about to catch Stacy, a knock sounded on the door.
Tanner looked rather perturbed over the disturbance, but
Stacy claimed victory as she ran to answer it.
"Your grandfather is awake now and would like to see
you," Peters told her as soon as she opened the door.
Stacy's heart swelled with pleasure. She had felt crushed
an hour ago when they'd arrived and been told that her
grandfather was sleeping. She had begged them not to disturb
him, but her desire to see him now was so intense that she
ached inside. Unfortunately, Tanner wanted her attention
right now also. Hesitantly she answered, unaware of Tanner's
approach from behind her.
"Peters, please tell my grandfather that I'll be down in a
short while."
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"Make that a few moments," Tanner cut in. Stacy swung
around in surprise. "Lady Stacy and I will be down in a few
minutes."
Peters nodded, and Tanner shut the door on his departure.
"Are you certain, Tanner?" Stacy immediately began. "I
can tell Peters that--"
Tanner silenced her with a kiss.
"We'll go downstairs and see your grandfather. I'm looking
forward to meeting him."
Stacy sighed, and her hand came up to stroke his cheek.
"Thank you, Tanner."
Tanner sighed also, but for another reason. He was not
used to putting his wants aside for others, but the look on
Stacy's face when she'd found her grandfather asleep caused
him to feel unusual compassion.
Tanner kissed Stacy again before taking her hand and
holding it all the way downstairs, releasing her only when
Stacy saw her grandfather and moved to hug him.
"Oh, Papa," was all Stacy could say as he held her. She
always tho
ught him a big man, and he was tall, but after
Tanner'ssolid strength he seemed very thin, almost gaunt. Not
that this mattered to Stacy. She was so content to be with her
grandfather for the first time in months that for the moment
nothing else really mattered.
"Good morning, your Grace," Peters greeted Tanner the
next morning.
"Good morning. Have you seen my wife?" Tanner had
wakened to an empty bed and no sign of Stacy or Rayna. Price
had no information as he dressed, so as soon as he was decent,
he'd made his way downstairs.
"Yes, my lord," Peters answered. "Lady Stacy and her
grandfather have gone fishing. Would you like your breakfast
now, my lord, or directions to the pond?"
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Tanner, an expert at hiding his feelings, was struggling for
the first time in years to keep his mouth closed The man said
his wife had gone fishing. Fishing. His statuesque, lovely bride
was sitting on the banks of a pond, fishing. The idea was
inconceivable.
These riotous thoughts invaded Tanner's mind for only
seconds before he noticed Peters' patient stance, reminding
him that he'd been offered breakfast. He was hungry, but his
curiosity over his wife's fishing won the battle.
"I'll take those directions to the pond," Tanner said softly
and listened intently as Peters spoke. Feeling like a vagabond,
Tanner reached for several biscuits, eating as he walked
toward the pond He believed that his wife really was fishing,
but the novelty of the idea forced a need in him to see for
himself.
"Now that's five to my one," Stacy said with a sigh as
Andrew brought in another fish. "I must have lost my touch."
"Indeed. It's the life of the idle rich that you now lead"
Stacy laughed in delight at the image his words portrayed,
but then she grew very serious.
"It does take a little getting used to."
"I imagine it does. It must also make it hard to come here
with all of our worn surroundings."
"Now that's where you're wrong," Stacy told him sweetly.
"Morgan will always be in my heart, old furniture and all."
"I'm thinking of leaving it to Noel and Elena."
"I think that's very wise, but I hope you're not in any big
hurry to leave us." Stacy's voice had been light, but Andrew did
not reply.
"Is there something you're not telling me?" Stacy asked
now, her voice fearful.
"It's nothing you don't already know. I just don't know
what I'll have to live for if I lose my eyes completely."
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"Oh, Papa," Stacy's voice was soft with pain. "I won't tell
you I understand because I'm sure I don't, but please know
how much I need you. If you can't keep going for yourself,
then keep going for me. I can't stand the thought of your being
gone."
Andrew took his gaze from the pond and stared intently at
'Stacy's tear-filled eyes. He was surprised to see those tears; he
could hardly remember her ever crying. In fact the tears did
I not spill but sat pooled in her great blue eyes. Only one
thought came to the old man. Was there a sweeter woman in
all of England? Andrew was sure there was not. After a moment
he reached and patted the hand she'd lain on his arm.
"Worry not, my dear. I shall keep on, if for no one else,
| then for you."
Stacy hugged his arm and brushed a quick hand across her
eyes. They fished in silence until Stacy felt a mighty tug on her
line. She stood with a shout, as did Andrew to watch as she
worked the line and brought in the biggest catch of the day.
This was the scene upon which Tanner walked. He stood
transfixed as he watched his wife laugh and unhook a good-sized
trout from her line. Before he was noticed, he had time
to take in the whole scene.
Andrew was bundled from head to foot, but Stacy was
wearing only a dress, a dress that had been patched many
times over and was too tight across her bosom. He wondered
how many years she'd had it. Her hair was also coming down
around her face, and there was a smear of mud under one eye.
"Oh, Tanner," Stacy suddenly spoke, and Andrew turned.
'I didn't hear you come up."
Tanner hated the uncertainty he heard in her voice. His
own voice was meant to soothe as he smiled and came forward
"So when do we eat this catch, for breakfast or lunch?"
"Well..." Stacy began, still looking uncomfortable with a
fish in her hand and a look of stark vulnerability on her face.
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"We'll eat them for lunch," Andrew interjected, not noticing
Stacy's hesitancy, or choosing to ignore it. "Why don't you
run ahead to the kitchen, Stacy, and see that Mercy gets these."
"Yes, Papa," Stacy answered and moved to obey him, but
Tanner caught her hand when she would have passed by him
in silent embarrassment. He stood staring into her eyes. Stacy
glanced over to see that her grandfather had begun to fish
again, his back to them, so she spoke softly for Tanner's ears
alone.
"You must be wondering what kind of woman you married"
"As a matter of fact I am."
Stacy looked crushed.
"I'm probably going to need the next 50 years to decide
which woman I like better--the woman who has a wardrobe
full of silks and satins and usually smells of flowers, or the
adorable urchin before me, whose cotton dress looks like a
rag and who smells of fish."
"You're really not angry or ashamed of me?"
"I'm furious and my reputation is shot." Tanner's tone was
dry.
Stacy chuckled low in her throat and went on her way.
Tanner sent her off with a smack to her backside and then
joined the older man on the banks. Stacy's pole was nearby,
but Tanner did not reach for it. Fishing held no interest for
him.
"You don't fish?" It was the first time Andrew had talked
with Tanner alone. Tanner genuinely liked his wife's grandfather
and answered easily.
"No, sir, I don't."
"How about hunting?"
"Yes, I hunt. Do you?"
"Not with my eyes growing so unpredictable. My younger
cousin, Noel, hunts. If you've a mind to be here awhile, you
could go with him. He'd know all the best areas."
They were silent as Andrew pulled in another fish. Tanner
watched him for a time, but then his gaze strayed across the
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pond to the beautiful area beyond. While Tanner studied the
scape, Andrew, whose eyes were clear that day, studied Tanner.
There was plenty of temptation at a time like this to give
speeches, but Andrew knew they would do no good. Either
Tanner was going to take good care of Stacy or he wasn't, and
Andrew sincerely doubted that anything he said would make a
difference.
What he'd seen so far looked good, but Stacy had been
raised in a different world, and her level of trust was very high,
even when it ought not to be. As a duke, Tanner was certainly
used to having his own way, and Stacy was a people pleaser.
The old man shrugged mentally. It was out of his hands. As
much as he'd like to wring a promise out of this young duke
that his granddaughter would be well cared for, he knew
better than to even try.
As it was, Tanner began to speak, cutting into Andrew's
musings. He extended an invitation to Winslow, if ever Andrew
wanted to make the trip, and then proceeded to tell him of the
house and grounds. By the time they returned to Morgan for
breakfast the older man was feeling much better about this
young man.
In the next ten days that they visited, Andrew was given a
measure of peace concerning Stacy's happiness. It wasn't
anything specific, but Tanner proved repeatedly in the little
things he said and did that he cared deeply for his new wife.
Because Andrew didn't know when Stacy would come
again, the goodbyes at the end of their visit were harder than
the ones in the spring had been. But from what he could tell,
he believed Tanner was going to do right by Stacy. Beyond that
Andrew could only hope.
105
standing in the doorway of the master bedroom, Stacy
was pleased that Tanner had warned her before they arrived.
This room, the suite actually, was as massive as everything
else at Winslow.
On one end were Stacy's spacious sitting room and large
dressing room. From Stacy's tour, she knew that Tanner's
sitting and dressing rooms were of the same size. Centered
between these four smaller rooms was the bedroom itself.
The master bedroom was a room in which all the furniture
played court to the huge bed that stood against the main
wall. The headboard was over six feet high with pillared
columns on the two corners. It was ornately carved in a rich
cherry wood and inlaid with mahogany and ash. Large windows
with beautiful smokey-gray hangings looked out over
the perfectly manicured acres of Winslow.
If she leaned very close to the glass she could see the other
wings, which housed dozens of rooms: bedrooms, private
sitting rooms, small dining areas, a multitiered library, a music
room, studies, lovely galleries, servants' quarters, and more
than Stacy could keep track of.
The kitchen was at the rear of Winslow, off the first floor.
Although Stacy had only gained a peek, her impression of hundreds
of square feet of floor space and gleaming pots hanging