Bewitching the Duke

by Christie Kelley

  “Excellent.”

  An uncomfortable silence filled the air around them. He had no idea how to broach the subject. “Miss White, I do hope you understand—”

  “Of course, Your Grace. You did not expect someone to disturb your peace while you slept. It is completely reasonable that you might have been irritable this morning.”

  Did she actually think his petulance had something to do with lack of sleep? “I believe you misunderstand me, Miss White.”

  “Oh?”

  “I don’t want you here,” he said quietly. Shame heated his cheeks. But he had no reason for embarrassment. Her mother, with her assorted herbs and nonsense, had caused his sorrow. Colin had never thought that the dreadful woman’s daughter would still be here on the estate. As Kate had told him, it was time to grow up and take charge of his life. It was strange to hear such a mature speech from a woman ten years younger than him.

  “I understand, Your Grace. I shall stay away from your bedchamber.” She started to walk away again.

  “Miss White,” he called out.

  She stopped and looked back at him. “Are we not finished, Your Grace?”

  “No.” He waited until she turned to face him. “I don’t want you in my home.”

  “Very well,” she replied tightly.

  “I also don’t want you here any longer.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “I don’t believe I understand, Your Grace.”

  “I wish for you to leave your cottage while I’m here.”

  “Leave?” she repeated.

  “Yes. I’m quite certain you realize why I would like you to depart. I’m not asking you to leave Northrop Park permanently, only until after the wedding. Obviously, the tenants appreciate your work here. But I . . .” Dear God, she had him babbling like an idiot! “I don’t want the reminder of what happened.”

  “My being here or not being here will not change your memories, Your Grace. The only one who can do that is you.”

  Colin felt his anger stir again. “It matters not. I do not want the remembrance of what happened here. And you are only a reminder of that pain. Do you understand?”

  “Yes. I believe I do.”

  “Very well, then.” He turned away believing everything was settled. She would leave and perhaps he might be able to stand living on the estate for the next two months until the wedding was over.

  But as he looked up at the ancient house, all the painful memories returned.

  As Selina strode away from the irksome duke, she couldn’t help but glance back at him. She’d be damned if she let him chase her from her home. She had two women about ready to deliver, an elderly man who was losing his mind, and a woman sick with the wasting disease. Nothing and no one would keep her from doing her job.

  Not even the Duke of Northrop.

  Chapter 2

  Colin walked through the house the next morning, frustrated by the condition of his ancestral home. Wallpaper was pulling away from the walls, the rugs were threadbare and covered in dust, and, based on the buckets on the third floor, he assumed there were leaks in the roof. He blew out a long breath. This was his fault. Guilt spread over him as he walked toward his study.

  He had no one to blame but himself for the dreadful state of disrepair. His steward had informed him of the needed repairs but he’d ignored those letters. He’d wanted no reminders of this place. Being here now brought back all the horrific memories.

  How could he have returned to this godforsaken place? Even now, he felt on edge. He’d spent most of yesterday out of the house, unable to face the memories that remained locked in these walls. It was as if it had only been a few days, not years since that March night.

  Already, it felt as if the house was closing in on him. He could still hear her screams of agony, and her pleas with God to save their baby. He entered his study and his gaze focused on Mary’s portrait above the fireplace. She’d been stunningly beautiful with her auburn hair and blue eyes. The longer he stared at her picture, the more his guilt ate at him. He had to get out of here . . . out of this damned house.

  He should have insisted the wedding take place in London.

  “Roberts,” he shouted, “tell Mr. Sellers I want a horse saddled.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.” Roberts replied from the hall.

  Colin paced his room. Dust and cobwebs covered every table and corner. Of course, if he had sent more notice of his impending arrival, the house would have been immaculate. Or at least as immaculate as his elderly staff could make the decrepit place. He needed to hire more staff as quickly as possible. And workers too. The house needn’t be perfect but at least respectable enough for the wedding.

  It was only two months. Then everything would be fine and he could return to London. Then he would never come back to this godforsaken house again. He’d let it rot until the next duke took over. His brother, Thomas, or Thomas’s son, Richard, could handle the renovations it would need then.

  He strode from the room and the house to escape the memories that plagued him. A ride would ease his mind. Once he reached the stables, a fine mare was waiting for him. At least his stables had been maintained.

  “Thank you, Mr. Sellers.” He mounted and took the reins from the groomsman.

  “Thank you, Your Grace. Aphrodite needed some exercise today.”

  “Then I’ll make certain she gets it.” He flicked the reins and headed out to the flat pasture. He’d forgotten how beautiful the Midlands were at this time of year. The sheep grazed on green grasses near a meadow of heather. The tilled fields had wheat rising from the ground. He smiled slightly as he remembered racing across the fields as a child.

  He breathed in deeply, allowing the thickly scented air into his lungs. Finally, he brought Aphrodite to a halt at the rise of a hill where his property intersected with the estates of the Earl of Harstfield and Viscount Middleton.

  Colin closed his eyes for a moment only to picture the little witch who had angered him yesterday. With curling blond hair and green eyes, Miss White was not the girl he vaguely remembered meeting when she was only about ten. Now she was a beautiful woman who irritated the hell out of him. She had to be in her middle twenties now. It was highly improper for a woman of her years to walk about with her hair unbound. And why hadn’t she married? Surely, she didn’t mean to remain a spinster and live in that tiny cottage for the rest of her life.

  He opened his eyes, annoyed with himself for even thinking about her. Her mother caused his pain. Her mother was the reason he was miserable here. Her mother killed his wife and heir.

  The sound of a horse galloping turned his head toward the earl’s estate.

  “So the rumors are true,” Hart said as he reined in his horse. He glanced to the east and then back at Colin with a frown. “You have returned. I guess the sun will now set in the east.”

  “Good morning to you too,” Colin said stiffly.

  “Excuse me, Your Grace,” the Earl of Harstfield said in a condescending tone.

  “What do you want, Hart?”

  Hart gave him an easy laugh. “Just making sure the rumor was true. After all, your exact words were the sun would set in the east before you ever set foot in Northrop Park again.”

  Colin shook his head. He had said those words and meant them until a month ago. “Kate wishes to marry here.”

  Hart nodded. “And you can’t refuse her anything, can you?”

  “No.”

  “She knows what happened. Why would she insist on having the wedding here?”

  Colin jumped off his horse and took the reins. Slowly he walked along the knoll with Hart following him. “She has no desire to marry in town.”

  “You have three other estates at which she could marry.” Hart stopped for a moment. “There’s more, isn’t there?”

  “She believes having a happy memory here will help me get over Mary’s death.”

  Hart shrugged. “Perhaps it will.”

  “Highly unlikely.” He stopped, picked up a rock, and
hurled it down the hill.

  “How is she? It’s been months since I’ve seen her.”

  “She is in love. Nothing could make her unhappy now,” Colin said in a sarcastic tone.

  Hart laughed. “Love isn’t such a terrible thing, North.”

  Colin glared over at his childhood friend. “Love is nothing but pain and agony.”

  “So when does the happy bride arrive?”

  “She and her mother will arrive in a month. I believe they wish to refurbish the house so it is in perfect condition for the wedding guests.”

  “Is there that much to do?” Hart asked with a frown.

  “The house is a disaster,” Colin admitted. “The roof leaks, the wallpaper is falling down, and the garden’s overgrown. It will cost me a fortune to get this house up to snuff for a wedding.”

  “True, but at least once it’s done the house will be ready for you to live in again.” Hart paused for a moment. “It would be pleasant to have a neighbor out here again . . . even if it is you.” He let out an easy laugh. “After all, Middleton is rarely at his home. I feel as if I’m the only one who enjoys country life.”

  Colin shook his head. “Once the vows are said, I will leave. And I won’t be back.”

  “You have a responsibility to your estate, North,” Hart said quietly.

  “Do not attempt to tell me how to manage my estates or my duty. I performed my duty and look where it got me. Thomas or his son can inherit this bloody house and the memories that go with it.”

  Colin picked up another rock and heaved it down the hill. This would be the longest two months of his life. He just wanted this wedding done now so he could return to London. Why hadn’t he disregarded Kate’s wishes? She and her mother could have hired all the help they needed without his assistance. But he’d never been able to ignore Kate’s pleas to assist them. She’d told him she didn’t feel comfortable making changes to his home without his permission.

  He could do this. It was only for two months. He closed his eyes for a quick moment only to see Miss White again. Why couldn’t he forget her today?

  “Who do you think was the first tenant to greet me?” Colin asked as frustration rolled through his body. He wasn’t about to tell Hart the circumstances surrounding the incident.

  “I have no idea.”

  “Miss White.”

  Hart glanced back at the house. “But North, she’s not the same woman. That was—”

  “Her mother. I realize that.” Colin blew out a long breath. “But it changes nothing. I’m tired of these women believing they are the reason our lands are fertile. That they are the cause of our wealth. They actually believe they know more than the physicians and surgeons.”

  Hart shrugged and glanced away. “Perhaps they do.”

  “How can you believe that?”

  “Miss Featherstone and her mother saved my mother’s life a few years ago. The physician said there was nothing he could do because she was dying from cancer. But with their herbs and loving care, three years later, my mother still lives. Not only that, but my mother is healthier than she’s ever been.”

  Hart went quiet for a long moment before finally saying, “I owe them both everything.”

  Colin wanted to rail at his friend for his foolishness. It was God’s will that his mother was still alive, not some damned women with their infernal herbs.

  Selina paced the small confines of her cottage. The fury of meeting the duke yesterday had not diminished. How was she supposed to leave the estate, even if it was for only two months? There were two tenants who would deliver in the next week or two. She had to be here for them. Besides, where was she supposed to go? She’d never met her father’s family and knew of no way to contact them. Her mother, like Selina, had been an only child. That left her twin friends, Mia and Tia. Although, Selina knew neither of them had room at their cottages.

  She walked to the window and looked out at the gray day. She’d lived in this cottage all her life. Her mother’s ancestors had lived either in this cottage or on this land somewhere. Why should she be forced to leave because he couldn’t forget the past?

  As she stared out the window, she noticed Mr. Sellers arrive with a horse. Selina grabbed her things and rushed outside.

  “Come on, miss,” Mr. Sellers said with a grin. “We don’t have that much time.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Sellers.”

  He nodded to her and then assisted her onto the mare. “Just doing my part.”

  They rode quickly to the stables. She glanced up at the house and her heart started to pound against her chest. If the duke discovered her here today, she had no idea what he might do. There were still several rooms she needed to cleanse and it might take days to complete. But this was what she’d been raised to do. She wouldn’t let one insufferable duke stop her.

  After Mr. Sellers helped her down, she ran for the house. Mr. Roberts opened the door for her.

  “Do hurry, miss,” Mr. Roberts said. “He used to ride for at least an hour, so do what you can during that time.”

  She removed her short boots and dropped them by the door.

  “Miss, you really shouldn’t walk around in your stocking feet,” Mr. Roberts admonished.

  The dear old man was always trying to drum some propriety into her head. He should know by now it would never work. “I won’t come in and track mud all over, causing you even more work.”

  Mr. Roberts only shook his head. “Very well.”

  “Have the footmen open the windows in the study, salon, and library. I will work there first.” She couldn’t go into his bedroom today. The idea of working in his bedchamber again sent an odd sensation to her belly. Far better to ignore that room for now.

  “Yes, miss.”

  While the footmen readied the room, Selina breathed in deeply to calm her nerves. She lit the sage and blew it out. A long line of smoke billowed up from the herb. Slowly, she walked into the library and moved counterclockwise through the room, taking a few extra moments in every corner.

  “No dark spirits are allowed in this room,” she mumbled as she walked. “Only good will remain in this room.” The smoke scented the room even with the windows open. She passed the bookshelves and looked up at them in envy. If only she had access to some of his books.

  Once finished in the library, she made her way to the salon. Repeating the same actions, she concentrated on her words and not the ticking clock. With two rooms finished, she moved to his study. She had at least fifteen minutes left.

  Before she started, she glanced about the room. Everything in this room was meant for him. A large, cherry desk took up one end of the room. She could picture him sitting in that leather chair working on bills and plans for the estate. At the other end, a large fireplace would keep the room warm in the cold winter months. She could imagine curling herself up in the blue velvet chair by the fireplace, reading a wonderful novel for hours, while the duke worked at his desk.

  “I must be going mad,” she whispered with a shake of her head.

  She resumed her cleansing. But she lost her concentration due to a commotion from the back of the house. Loud voices continued to come closer until she realized it was the duke. Not knowing what else to do, she snuffed the sage and slipped behind the gold velvet curtain. Hopefully, he wouldn’t notice her feet sticking out. Fear of discovery caused her heart to pound against her chest.

  She took a deep breath to calm herself and listen as he came closer. His footsteps sounded different today. His gait was uneven as if he wasn’t walking correctly.

  “Why do I smell goddamn sage?” he shouted.

  “Now, Your Grace, it’s just left over from what she did yesterday,” Mr. Roberts replied. “You must sit down and get off that ankle.”

  “My ankle is fine,” he rasped.

  “I could call for Miss White to look at it. I am quite certain it wouldn’t take long for her to arrive.”

  “Absolutely not! I will not have that blasted woman in my house playing physi
cian.”

  He’d hurt his ankle and still he wouldn’t let her examine him? She really should help with him. She tamped down the idea of giving the man aid. He wanted her off his estate so he could rot for all she cared.

  “Just get me a glass of brandy. That will fix me up.”

  Brandy? At ten in the morning? That was not what he needed. She couldn’t ignore what she’d been raised to do. She pulled back the curtain and glared at him.

  “You will not drink brandy at this hour. You need to get off that foot and elevate it.”

  “What the bloody hell are you doing back in my house? And hiding behind a curtain!”

  She paid no heed to the glare he leveled at her. “I was doing my job.”

  “I told you not to come back here,” he said, hobbling for his desk. “No one needs you here.” He winced and sat in the leather chair.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “It appears that you need me.”

  He shook his head. A lock of black hair fell upon his forehead. “I only need you to leave. My ankle will be fine.”

  “Let me see your foot,” she said, walking closer to him.

  “Get out of my house,” he ordered.

  She smiled brightly at him. “There is something you should know about me right now, Your Grace.”

  “Oh?” His blue eyes were as hard as sapphires as he stared at her.

  She closed the distance between them and then picked up his right foot. “I don’t take orders from anyone.” She leaned in closer until she could feel his heated breath and whispered, “Not even a duke.”

  She gently pulled his boot off as he clenched his jaw. “Damn you,” he whispered.

  “Damn me? Look at this ankle.” Already it was swelling and turning black-and-blue. “You’re lucky I didn’t have to cut your lovely boot off your foot.”

  “I want you out of my house,” he said again.

  She glanced up at him with a little smirk. “I know you do.” Returning her gaze to his foot, she shook her head. “I do not like the speed of this swelling. Mr. Roberts,” she called, knowing he was right outside the room.