The man’s eyes hardened. “How does such a report become known when the duke hasn’t managed to leave his castle, as you say?”
Her eyes widened at the fury in his tone. “Save your anger for someone else. I wasn’t the one who began the rumors. And, why should you care so much?”
He shifted his leg to the ground, then stood up. Carolyn stifled a gasp. Sitting as he was, she hadn’t expected him to be so big. Even with the distance between them, she could tell he was nearly a foot taller than she. And, muscular. Said muscles bulged against the sleeves of his jacket. Likely the seamstress had used twice as much fabric as usual to cover those arms. She’d never before seen a man built with such power.
Fear gripped her, but admiration kept her rooted to the spot. With his hair flying around his head, and his face half in shadow, she had to admit, he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. Please excuse me.” Without another word, he disappeared down the path off to his side.
As she stood, wide-eyed, she resisted the urge to watch him walk away. She shook her head. That was a ridiculous thought. As she bent over to collect her supplies, she could barely control the tremble in her hands.
Never before had she felt such an interest in a man. The idea that she could have such feelings intrigued her. Something was different about him, and it surprised her to realize she wanted to see him again. However, fate was a hard mistress. Clearly, he was new to this area, and she didn’t even know his name.
~ ~ ~
Edmund Marsham, Duke of Demoon, glanced at his cousin. “Come now, Thomas. I can’t believe you have lived at Moonlight Castle for a year now and have never heard a word.”
With a snort, Thomas threw back his brandy. “You’re my cousin. Do you honestly believe people are so stupid as to defame your reputation to my face?”
His knuckles turned white as he gripped his glass while studying Thomas’s expression. When drunk, his cousin was powerless to hide his true feelings. Not to mention how, over their childhood, Edmund had become adept at reading the younger man.
“I don’t care what part of you they were talking to, your face or otherwise, I just want to know what was said.”
Thomas let out a long breath. “Why do you care all of a sudden? It isn’t as though the talk has changed recently. You never leave these walls, so let them say what they will.”
Forcing himself out of his chair, Edmund moved to the window and looked out over his property. Ever since the fire eleven years ago, he’d hidden himself away and allowed his uncle to see to any duty located outside the castle. However, it didn’t mean he had no care for the tenants, his neighbors, or his responsibilities. To hear people honestly thought him to be in even the remotest way like his father drove a knife in his chest. He was nothing like that man. Nor, would he ever be.
“Listen,” Thomas began at his silence. “When you hide away like you have, people begin to speculate. And, your mother . . . Well, she doesn’t exactly discourage negativity.”
Edmund gripped his hand on the curtain. There was no help for it. He took a deep breath, and forced his body to relax. In the end, it didn’t matter what they said, nothing would change.
The image of the diminutive blonde with striking green eyes filled his mind. The idea that the woman who had stumbled upon his secret garden spoke ill of him bothered him more than any of the other nameless faces, and he couldn’t explain why.
The fact she had discovered the garden had earned his respect. Recalling her myriad of gardening tools, he had a sinking suspicion she had been one of the people responsible in restoring the place. At first the idea had angered him, but now it seemed like she had given him a gift. After all, he had enjoyed the fruits of their labor for over a year now.
“Come on.” Thomas put a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s head to dinner, otherwise we’ll be late and you know how the duchess feels about that.”
Knowing a response wasn’t necessary, Edmund pulled his mask from his jacket pocket and slid the leather strap across his head, angling it so he could see. He loathed wearing the thing, but he had no choice. Most of the time, he managed to hide his disfigured face with his hair, but his mother insisted he always wear it in her presence.
The leather mask molded the left side of his face, pulling at his hair until he set it just right.
“I wish you would just look at yourself in the mirror. Considering the damage can be covered so easily, it can’t be all that bad.”
Gritting his teeth against the familiar argument, Edmund put his shoulders back. “I don’t need to see in order to know what I am. No mirrors. It’s been that way for over a decade, and I have no intention of changing it now.”
He ignored the further protests from his cousin as he pushed past him and made his way to the dining room. His mother and uncle had already taken their seats and had begun the first course. He winced at the glare she shot him.
“Why am I not surprised the two of you are late? We’d begun to lose hope.” She cast her hateful glance at Thomas as well.
“Aunt Gwyneth, it’s barely one minute past.” Thomas held his watch fob out to her as if needing to provide proof.
She wrinkled her nose. “As I said. Late.”
The course was quickly set in front of them. Unconcerned with the other occupants in the room, Edmund dipped his spoon into the soup, wanting to have the production over with. His mother liked to argue, and he did not.
“Let them be,” Uncle Joseph chided. “The boys have arrived now.”
Thomas snorted. “Boys? My dear uncle, I daresay it has been years since that term applied to us.”
“Then, perhaps you should stop acting like it,” the duchess rebutted. “Now, as I was telling your uncle, before you so rudely interrupted, I think we need to revisit my idea to host a ball.”
Edmund slammed his glass down so hard, wine sloshed over the wooden surface of the table. A maid gasped and quickly moved forward.
“Don’t,” he barked, using his own napkin to mop up the liquid. He’d be damned the day he was so weak he couldn’t even clean up his own mess.
“Edmund, really? Must you do that at the table? Let the girl do her job.”
“I’m not hosting a ball.” His voice emerged even, calm, nothing compared to the anger rolling through his entire being.
She laughed. “I wasn’t suggesting you do. Your uncle does a fine job handling such things in your place.”
“Let me make myself more clear. Your guests aren’t allowed inside my house.”
The look she shot him would have withered a weaker man. Edmund simply stared back. The difference, in this woman before him to the caring mother she had been prior to his father’s death, was astounding. It made him wonder if their only bond had been the torment his father had put upon both of them.
“Joseph?” Her shrill voice could have shattered every piece of glass in the room.
“Don’t worry,” Uncle Joseph muttered. “The duke and I can discuss it later.”
She batted her eyelashes at his uncle, and Edmund bit down on his teeth at the display. The woman had been manipulating her husband’s brother for years. With Uncle Joseph’s mild disposition, it was no surprise he allowed it, but the fact always irritated Edmund.
Regardless, his uncle could speak to him all he liked, the matter was closed.
~ ~ ~
Carolyn’s gaze darted around as she searched for the source of the rustling sound. She let out a breath. Again, it was nothing. She turned back to her weeding. Before long, the ground would become too hard to remove the smothering plants. She hated that her season in London forced her from providing the care such a place required.
At the snapping of a twig, she dropped her head to her chest. She shouldn’t have come back here. Although the duke ha
dn’t posted a notice, the lord she’d met yesterday had given her a clear warning. And, the idea that he would return at the same time as she was unlikely. Especially since he hadn’t arrived in the past few hours she had been there.
“I see you have no respect for private property.”
She froze upon hearing the gravelly voice. He’d come. Tingling began in her belly, and she cleared her throat to diffuse the sensation. Peering over her shoulder, she noticed him towering over her, his face in the shadow as his long blond hair blew in the breeze. He was magnificent.
“Neither do you.” She turned back to her gardening, attempting to still her shaking fingers.
“Perhaps I don’t, but I come here for the solitude, and your presence disrupts that for me.”
She snorted. “It’s a large garden, my lord. I’m sure we can both find a place for ourselves here.”
“Don’t call me that.”
She lifted an eyebrow at his irritated tone.
Dropping the plant she had removed from the dirt, she stood and dusted her hands on her filthy skirt. “Then, you are not a lord?”
His stare didn’t change. “Considering we haven’t been introduced, I’d prefer you not make assumptions of me. I have made none of you.”
She tilted her head, trying to get a better look at his face. “Are you suggesting we introduce ourselves?” Although she desperately wanted to know who he was, and how to find him again, the thought of forgoing the strictures of society made her uneasy.
His eyes narrowed. “Nothing as dramatic as that. You may call me Edmund.”
Her mouth fell open in shock. “Like the duke?”
It seemed odd that he should share the name with the duke and happen upon his property. Squinting to see him better, she didn’t see a face horrifically destroyed by fire. From the stories, he couldn’t be mistaken.
He crossed his arms. “It’s not an uncommon name.”
Nodding, she realized she was being ridiculous. The Duke of Demoon didn’t leave his castle. And, certainly wouldn’t have any desire to hide the position that brought him such power. Besides, had the duke caught her here, likely she wouldn’t have survived long enough to spread the tale.
“Very true.”
“So, what will you have me call you?”
She swallowed. “I hardly think using your Christian name is appropriate.”
A smile transformed the part of his face not hidden by his hair. “You trespass on private property, take liberties with the grounds, speak to me with a shrewd tongue, and now refuse to call me Edmund? You, girl who dresses like a servant yet speaks like one born to privilege, are confounding.”
Heat flooded her cheeks as she glanced down at her dirty and tattered dress. She’d never worried over her clothes while in the garden before, and the fact he thought so low of her appearance rankled.
“My position within society is none of your concern.”
“I’m not suggesting that it is. As a matter of fact, I don’t want to know.”
Studying his face, she couldn’t see any signs of ill intent. For some reason, he wanted to remain anonymous. That thought intrigued her. Most men who could afford to wear the quality of garments she’d seen on him the past two days preferred to flaunt their wealth, not hide it. And, those men were the very reason why she’d decided marriage wasn’t for her.
“Very well. You may call me Carolyn.”
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He smiled, showing off perfect, white teeth. “Now, tell me. Why are you here?”
“That, again, is none of your concern. For all you know, I could have obtained permission from the duke, himself, to be here.” She held in a smile while throwing out the excuse he’d used yesterday.
He crossed his arms over his impossibly large chest as he lifted an eyebrow. “Ah, another clue to the woman. She’s also a liar.”
Furious he would label her as such, she balled up her fists. “How dare you make such a claim? You know nothing about me.”
“If you have such a personal relationship with the duke, then prove it. Describe him for me.”
She wanted to point out the fact that she never said she had actually received permission from His Grace, but she wanted to wipe that smug smile off his face more than she wanted to correct his assumption. Years ago, her brother and his friends had saved the duke from a fire. As such, she knew a little more than most.
“He’s very tall.”
He scoffed. “Compared to you, that could describe nearly every gentleman in England.”
Resisting the urge to grit her teeth, she continued. “He has blond hair and a face one wouldn’t forget.”
“Such a flattering description.” He moved a step toward her, seeming to grow in size. “Tell me what is so unforgettable about his face.”
His tight jaw and the anger in his eyes made her feel as if she’d done something wrong. Why did he ask her questions if he didn’t want to hear the answers? Besides, he had no reason to be put out by her description as she hadn’t said anything wrong.
“As I’m sure you already know, his face was burned as a youth. They say his disfigurement is so extreme, his own mother doesn’t recognize him.”
He relaxed his shoulders and his eyes fixed upon something over her head. “That is likely an accurate description.” His gaze settled back upon her. “However, you said ‘they say.’ Therefore, your observations don’t come from personal knowledge of the man.”
“It was your assumption that I had personal knowledge of him, I said nothing of the sort.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Then, we are at an impasse.”
Not being able to bear the thought of being banned from the beloved garden, Carolyn let out a long breath. “Let’s not argue. Instead, do you suppose we can come up with some kind of agreement?”
“I’m listening.”
“When I found this place, it was a complete mess. I’ve spent too many hours over the past few years to abandon it now.”
“You did this?” A touch of awe colored his face. “By yourself?”
She nodded. “Why do you think I’ve been here each day to tend to the weeds? After my sea . . . time away, this place has become a little overgrown, but I will fix it.”
A smile curled his lips. “Yes. You shall.”
“Then, we can agree to each use the garden in our own way? Neither of us will tell the duke?”
His smile widened. “I promise, the duke shall not hear a word of this from me.”
“Thank you.” Awkwardness crept around her now that their dispute was settled. “Well, I will let you get back to your solitude.”
“Oh, no.” He shrugged out of his riding jacket and hung it over a bush, then began rolling up his sleeves.
Her mouth dried at the sight of his muscular arms. She knew his actions should frighten her, but for some reason, her brain didn’t register the threat. Nor could she tear her eyes away from the flesh being bared to her.
“Edmund?” she forced out through her suddenly dry throat.
“I didn’t understand how the garden had been so beautifully preserved, and now that I know, I refuse to sit back and allow you to do all of the work yourself. Show me what to do.”
Joy welled up inside her. Together they would be able to protect the flowers before the cold set in. She had no idea who this man was, how long he intended to stay, or what set of circumstances brought him to her, but she wouldn’t complain. He was exactly what she needed right now.
She pointed to the weeds around the flowers she intended to protect.
“Just remove those so the flowers don’t have to fight for the nutrients.”
He looked at the ground then back up at her. “And, what will you be doing?”
Laughing, she sank
back down to her previous position and pulled out a weed. “The exact same thing you shall be doing.”
Concern touched his features, as he looked at her. Without a word, he moved to her left side and got down on his knees.
“I’ve already finished there. This side requires your attention.”
Without turning, he glanced at her through the corner of his eyes. “Then, I suppose you should move down.”
Although confused by his strange behavior, she was only too pleased to move over and put some space between them. She found it odd that he believed her to be the confusing one.
“Now, make sure you remove the roots when you pull it up. Otherwise, they will just grow back.”
He sank his fingers into the dirt without hesitation, pulling out the weed and tossing it into the bag she’d brought with her. As he moved on to another, she began on her own side. The silence was companionable and Carolyn had to admit she was enjoying herself.
Their strange relationship may be inappropriate, but she refused to think on that now. Never before had she tended the garden with anyone who hadn’t been paid to do so. Clearly, this man sought the best for the flowers as well.
She didn’t know how long he intended to be in the area, but she would take advantage of his every second.
Chapter 2
Edmund checked his watch fob as he listened to his uncle drone on about every single detail concerning his rounds with the tenants. When he’d first requested that Uncle Joseph fill him in, the man had been reluctant, now however, it seemed he felt the need to overwhelm with details.
“And, then he said . . . Why do you keep checking the time? Do you have a pressing engagement?”
The amusement in his uncle’s eyes indicated what he thought of that. The truth of the matter had Edmund repressing his smile. He did have a pressing engagement. For a week now, he’d been meeting Carolyn at the garden to tend to the flowers. Today was no exception.
Enchanting the Duke of Demoon (Touched by Fire Book 4) Page 2