Never Deny Your Heart (Kellington Book Five)

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Never Deny Your Heart (Kellington Book Five) Page 17

by Maureen Driscoll


  Could it be true? Did he love her? She knew that she was irretrievably in love with him. In fact, her earlier affection toward him had been a schoolgirl crush compared to the all-encompassing love she felt for him now.

  She took extra care with the scones and cleaned the small cottage in anticipation of his return. He was used to the grandeur of his London home and country estates. But she loved having him in her small cottage. It was wholly theirs with no servants to intrude on their privacy, no Kellingtons to contend with. She immediately felt guilty at that thought, because she loved Lizzie dearly and had always enjoyed her time with Ned, Arthur, Hal and their wives.

  But right now, she didn’t want to share Liam with his family. She didn’t want him to spend time as a duke with all his attendant responsibilities. She knew she was being selfish, but did not care. She wanted to spend time alone with Liam Kellington in this cottage. In their bed.

  She hoped he would return soon.

  She’d already had a visit from Mrs. Milton that morning. No doubt the old gossip had wanted to catch her with Liam, but he’d already gone out. Rosalind could tell the woman was dying to ask where he was at that moment, half expecting – likely half hoping – she would catch him coming down the stairs half clothed. After a suitably long period of procrastination in which Mrs. Milton waited in vain to learn the scandalous details of Rosalind’s involvement with the Duke of Lynwood, she reluctantly took her leave.

  Rosalind knew it was very wicked of her to be living in sin with Liam, even if the arrangement had not been explicitly announced. In any other village, she would likely be cut by the others. And she had no doubt the town’s forbearance had been engineered by Gabriel. It likely didn’t hurt that she was sinning with one of the most powerful – and handsome – peers in the empire.

  She heard the carriage stop in front of her cottage and Rosalind all but ran to the door. She took a quick look around to ensure that all was as it should be, then answered the door to her handsome duke.

  “Welcome home, my love,” she said as she helped him with his coat.

  He kissed her, then began nudging her toward the stairs. She laughed. Then laughed again at his affronted look.

  “Later, Liam. You left without eating this morning. I am only looking out for your best interests.”

  “My best interests lie upstairs.”

  She tugged on his hand to follow her to the kitchen. He resisted like a particularly stubborn mule – she would like to see his face if she said that out loud – then he finally gave in.

  “I have scones – and this batch turned out quite well – as well as fresh eggs.”

  “Where did those come from?” Liam asked.

  “Hens,” she said, stifling a smile. “Daisy brought them over this morning. Shirley, Lydia and Buttercup produced them.”

  “Daisy is very creative with her naming skills. Do you like cooking? I have found I enjoy watching you in the kitchen. I fear it shall give Cook apoplexy when I turn her stove over to you but I have grown to quite like your scones.”

  “You are too kind, your grace. And I must admit that while I have enjoyed cooking, I could grow quite accustomed to having it done for me once again. It would also give us a more diverse menu, unless you would like to have scones at every meal.”

  “Rosalind, with you by my side, I could stay in this cottage forever and eat nothing but scones.”

  “That is very romantical, but I, for one, should like to have working fireplaces in every room and the occasional roasted beef.”

  “Thank God,” said Liam, as he pulled her into his embrace while they watched the eggs cook. “I met with Lyman today.”

  “Were you able to get him to agree to the repairs?”

  “Even better. I bought the village. Actually, I believe I bought several villages.”

  Rosalind pulled back to stare at him. “You did what?”

  “I bought his unentailed land. Love, I believe the eggs are almost done. And we wouldn’t want Shirley, Lydia and Buttercup’s efforts to be in vain.”

  Liam removed the pan from the stove, while Rosalind put plates on the table. “Pray, tell me again how this came about.”

  “It occurred to me that even if I could persuade Lyman to make the repairs to the church, it would be only a matter of time before some other building was in similar straits and next time someone could be killed. I have grown rather fond of your little village and I do think it would be a good investment.”

  “Liam, even I can see that it will be many years before your investment bears fruit and will cost you a small fortune in the meantime.”

  “Not all investments are measured by profit and loss, though my man of business might disagree. Think of it as a wedding gift, though I’d wanted to shower you with jewels instead.”

  “I haven’t yet agreed to marry you,” said Rosalind, as she pressed her lips to his. “And there is nothing to say you cannot give me both.” Her eyes clearly laughed at him.

  He pulled her closer. “Trust me, love. I have not yet begun to give you what you deserve.”

  * * *

  Repairs continued on the church, with Liam spending much of the afternoon using the same muscles that were sore from his work the day before. He’d taken Gabriel aside earlier in the day to tell him of his business with Lyman.

  “I don’t understand, your grace,” said Gabriel. “What exactly have your purchased?”

  When Liam told him of the extent of his transaction, Gabriel could only shake his head. “You’ve taken on quite a task. These are good lands, but in terrible shape. Do you have any idea how much coin it will take before you ever see a shilling of your investment?” Then his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Unless you plan to ‘manage’ them like the earl. I warn you, the farmers have had just about all the bad luck we can stand.”

  “I assure you my methods will be nothing like Lyman’s.”

  “Your steward is a good man?”

  “I have several of them, one for each property. A dukedom comes with a great deal of responsibility and I wanted to ensure no one estate suffered because attention was being paid to another. The men I have overseeing my properties grew up there. They have a vested interest in making sure the land is used as it should be. Which is why I would like you to be my steward here.”

  Gabriel’s look of astonishment was almost comical. And Liam took a perverse pleasure in having shocked him so. “I need you here and not just in Kibworth. I would like you to oversee all of my holdings in this area.”

  “But, your grace, I….”

  “I thought we established you would call me Lynwood.”

  “I do not know what to say. I’ve had no formal education, though I can read, write and do sums well enough. I do not have the background for such a job.”

  “But you know the land and the people.”

  “Of course.”

  “Then I fail to see the problem.”

  “Well, for one thing, I have my own farm to work.”

  “With the wages you will earn, you’ll be able to hire someone to help you on the farm. It seems like there are any number of hard-working young men in the village anxious to prove themselves.” He looked around at the men and lads who were making quick work of the salvage operation. “There is a sense of community here I have never experienced. In some ways I envy you. Those in the ton care for little more than position and wealth.”

  Gabriel chuckled. “It’s not like this lot doesn’t care about money.”

  “I am sure not. But this is their home. Why else would they have stayed here for so long when conditions worsened? That is why I need you here. To ensure their sacrifice and faith have not been in vain. Will you take the position?”

  Gabriel considered the request. “Aye. I’ll do your work. But regardless of whether or not you’re my employer and own my land, if you mistreat Miss Carson I’ll beat you to a bloody pulp.”

  Liam begrudgingly smiled. “I would expect nothing less.” He held out his hand, then he and G
abriel sealed their agreement.

  * * *

  Rosalind worked with the other women of the village to serve the men food and drink as they toiled. But though she worked alongside them, she noticed a distance growing between her and the others. Finally, she pulled Olivia aside to ask her why.

  “I suspect part of it is they know now you’re not just a lady but soon to be a duchess.”

  “I have not yet made up my mind,” Rosalind said quickly, though her mind was growing quite accomplished at picturing her married to Liam.

  Olivia smiled in sympathy. “I’ve always felt marriage should be more than a financial decision. If I’d thought otherwise, I’d be married to the smithy’s son from my village and probably have three children by now with another on the way. But I didn’t much fancy him and I had a desire to experience more of the world. I can say now that I wasn’t very impressed with what I saw in my last position, what with the earl’s home little more than a bawdy house. But it’s obvious to me, at least, that your duke truly loves you and that you love him, too. I’m sure you can get out of that sham betrothal your family forced you into.”

  “How did you know about that?”

  “That Lady Elling is naught but a gossip. I think you should marry your duke and get to producing the heir and the spare and a lot of baby girls.” At Rosalind’s look of embarrassment, she added conspiratorially, “He can afford it, you know. Also, another reason the ladies are treating you with some distance is that word has spread that his grace bought the village. I’m sure they don’t want to offend you in any way. ‘Specially, that gossipy cat Mrs. Milton.”

  The lady herself chose that moment to approach them. “Miss Carson,” said Mrs. Milton, ignoring Olivia completely. “The other ladies and I were thinking that perhaps we should have our fest tonight. If you agree, of course.”

  “Can we do it in so short of a time?” asked Rosalind, amazed that the gossipy cat was deferring to her in any way.

  “I believe we must. After all, the men have worked so hard. We have to feed them anyway, so all we would need to do would be to gather wood for the bonfire, which the children would be pleased to do, and serve a meal out here. Tommy told me that Gabriel has just butchered one of his cows. ‘Twould be no work at all to get the rest of the food in order and decorate with greenery. I have any number of women who would volunteer to discuss this with Gabriel.”

  Rosalind noticed Olivia’s eyes narrowing at the mention of other women speaking to Gabriel. “I believe that is an excellent idea, Mrs. Milton, save one detail. Miss Morrison shall work out the specifics with Mr. Mills.”

  “The servant?” Mrs. Milton looked Olivia up and down – mostly down.

  “She is his guest,” said Rosalind. “And I know his grace would be pleased to know she is attending to this.”

  Mrs. Milton looked like she had just sucked on a lemon, regardless of the fact that they were out of season. “Well, if his grace would be pleased, then I suppose we have little choice.” With that, she went back to her friends, after gracing Rosalind with a smile that was much less deferential than earlier.

  “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” asked Olivia.

  “Quite. I hope you did not mind me volunteering you to speak with Gabriel about this.”

  “Of course not,” Olivia replied with a telltale blush. “I should check on Tommy and Daisy anyway.”

  Rosalind noted with a smile that when Olivia and Gabriel spoke of this a few moments later, both of them were grinning.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The fest that night was one of the most unique celebrations Liam had ever attended. After a second day of back-breaking work, he wanted nothing more than to relax in a hot bath, then spend the evening with Rosalind in the most enjoyable way imaginable. But he knew he could not insult the men he’d just spent the day with working side-by-side. And there was a certain amount of pride at stake, as well. If they didn’t need to rest, then he bloody well didn’t, either.

  It had taken almost half an hour to warm enough water for his bath – time he spent making love with Rosalind in the kitchen. The bath itself was quick because the water didn’t stay hot for long. Rosalind changed into her best gown, which a London ladies’ maid would be too embarrassed to wear. But what did clothes matter when Rosalind was the most beautiful woman Liam had ever seen? He smiled wryly at how besotted he was with her. But he didn’t care. She was his everything.

  After he convinced her to marry him, his life would be complete. And it would be time for the begetting of children during long winter nights spent making love by the fire or in his luxurious tester bed. He could also envision them lying in a field of spring flowers at Lynwood Manor, swimming naked in the lake in August and making a bed in the hay on an autumn day.

  “Do we really have to go tonight?” he asked Rosalind. “There are more pleasurable ways I can think of to spend the time.”

  She smiled at him, her beautiful eyes shining behind her spectacles. “I am afraid that we must. The entire village wants to meet their new landlord.”

  “I lifted wooden beams with half of them for two days. How much more would they wish to know?” he grumbled.

  She laughed. “You would not want to disappoint them. This is an evening that shall live on for generations. It isn’t every day that a charming duke shares their bonfire.”

  “Well, as long as you believe me charming,” he said, as he helped her on with her coat. “Will you be warm enough in this?”

  “Thank you, yes.”

  “I insist you take my hand so at least that will be warm,” he said as he reached for her fingers, before bringing them to his lips. “And do be so good as to tell me when it is acceptable for us to depart. I have plans for us for the evening that do not include the rest of the bloody village.”

  Rosalind smiled.

  It was, thought Liam, a very good start to the rest of their lives.

  * * *

  As Rosalind stepped out into the night, holding hands with Liam, she could not remember a time when she was happier. The air was brisk, but she was thoroughly warmed, starting from her fingers held securely in his, then running all the way through her.

  From the time she was a girl, Rosalind had dreamt of Liam claiming her as his own. Most of the fantasies had also had some component of Liam delivering a set-down to her mother and brother. Some of them had even resulted in Calvin being struck. Not too hard, of course. Just hard enough. Then there was the fantasy of the ultimate ton wedding, where Rosalind would walk down the aisle past the many ladies who’d looked down upon her for various reasons and been so hungry for Liam’s wealth and title. But never once had there been a fantasy where she was wearing a drab wool gown in sensible boots, about to drink ale before a roaring bonfire and to dance a jig to a fiddler’s tune.

  And more was the pity there hadn’t been. Because it all felt right. As if this was the moment she’d waited for all her life.

  When they completed the short walk to the village green, she could not believe her eyes. The entire square, which only hours earlier had been filled with discarded wood from the church, was now filled with people making merry. The wood that had been too ruined to be used in another building, now burned brightly, giving off a luxurious warmth and the crisp smell of a bonfire.

  At first, it seemed the villagers were too timid to approach them, but then Daisy ran up to her and threw her arms around her waist.

  “You’ve come!” said the girl. “I asked father if I could go to Rose Cottage and collect you, but he said I should remain here instead. I’m wearing my new woolen stockings. Father was going to give them to me as a Christmas present, but he decided I should wear them tonight and I quite agreed. I’m glad you came, too, your grace.” And the girl almost looked like she meant it.

  “Thank you, Daisy. I am glad to be here and celebrate with everyone.”

  And that was all it took. The exuberance of one little girl cleared the way for the rest of the villagers to welcome them to the fest
. Soon, Rosalind and Liam were surrounded by well-wishers. Mr. Hammons, the tavern owner, pressed mugs of ale onto them and the fiddler broke into a merry dance.

  At first, Rosalind and Liam were content to stand back and watch the others dance. But as the ale continued to flow in those around them, the villagers began encouraging them to join in.

  Tommy came up to Rosalind and bowed. “Miss Rosalind, would you care to dance with me? That is, if his grace doesn’t mind.”

  Rosalind smiled at the boy. “I would like to dance with you and I cannot imagine his grace would have any objections.” As Tommy led her to the other dancers, she thought she heard Liam mumble “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

  Rosalind didn’t know the steps to the dance, but as soon as she was caught up in the music, she realized it didn’t much matter. She looked at the happy faces around her and realized with a shock how different this was from a ton ball, and not just the obvious differences in dress and location. These people wanted to be here. A dance like this wouldn’t happen often, but they would carry it in their hearts forever.

  She watched Mr. Taney and his wife dance together, laughing with every step they made. Even Mrs. Milton seemed a much nicer person as she danced with her husband. She still was not a person Rosalind would care to spend much time with, but she seemed like a nicer woman nonetheless. Rosalind also caught sight of Gabriel and Olivia dancing. The light seemed to glow in Olivia’s fair locks, and Gabriel could not take his eyes off her. Rosalind smiled, hoping that Tommy and Daisy would soon have a mother once again.

  She caught sight of Liam dancing with the vicar’s sister. The woman was thrilled beyond words, a sentiment Rosalind understood all too well. She suddenly longed to dance with him herself. But even more than that, she longed to tell him that she would be his wife, regardless of the scandal. She loved him. And if he was willing to risk his reputation, who was she to say no?

 

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