She lifted her spectacle once more. “You do seem in earnest, Your Grace.”
Nick smiled. The noblewoman wasn’t pleased, but she was taking the news far better than he’d imagined on the carriage ride to Claxton Hall.
“I offer you felicitations and blessings, Tremayne, though I suspect you don’t wish or need them. Or anything else from me.”
“Actually, I do need something from you, Lady Claxton.” Nick swallowed his pride. “I want Barrowmere society to accept Mina with open arms.”
The old woman’s brows shot up like two silver doves taking flight.
“Miss Thorne is well known within the village, and well liked, Your Grace.”
“She’ll be a duchess, Lady Claxton, and while I suspect she has a better notion of how to go about being one than I know how to be a duke, I want a promise from you that she will be accepted. Warmly.”
“Others will think what they please.”
Now it was Nick’s time to narrow an eye. The noblewoman knew very well that others in Barrowmere society looked to her to lead the way.
Lady Claxton tapped her cane on the floor and sighed. “Very well. For my part, and my granddaughter’s, we shall welcome Miss Tho—” She stopped herself before continuing on. “Your duchess into our circle. Shall we start with a dinner at Claxton Hall next week?”
“Thank you.” Nick meant the words. Speaking them seemed to salve over a bundle of worries inside him.
They shook hands as Nick departed, and the old lady hung on for so long that Nick offered her a smile.
“You do know what you’re about, Tremayne? London society will be more of a challenge than Barrowmere.”
“I’m always up for a challenge, Lady Claxton.” Letting go of even the portion of disdain he’d held for aristocrats like Lady Claxton, who’d been cronies of his father, felt extraordinary. Liberating. An echo of that moment he’d finally stepped out of that damnable tower.
The blackened husk of the structure came into view as the carriage drew into Enderley’s drive. Nick drew in a sharp breath, expecting the usual wave of revulsion. But it didn’t come.
All he truly felt was anticipation, an eagerness to see Mina.
Memories of what he’d endured in the tower didn’t matter. They were just a pile of stones. Like the house and the stables and every structure on the estate.
She mattered. Only Mina and the life he wanted to build with her.
He bounded up the steps, burst through the front door, and headed straight for her office. Then he heard her voice and his heartbeat sped. The sound of conversation floated out from the sitting room where she’d tended his wounds.
Inside the room, he found her approaching the threshold with Mrs. Shepard, the lady he’d met at the vicarage. The one who’d harangued him about attending a country dance.
“Mrs. Shepard came to discuss details for the Christmas dance,” Mina told him.
He liked that her breath quickened at the sight of him, just as his heart had begun racing the minute he spotted her.
“I do hope to see you there, Your Grace.” The older woman skimmed her gaze over his bandaged face, a heartwarming look of concern shadowing her eyes.
“When is it, again?” Nick’s chief memory of that day at the vicarage was of Mina, sitting in the corner, watching his every move. He’d spent most of the hours trying not to turn and gaze back at her.
“The Sunday before Christmas, Your Grace.”
“What do you think, Miss Thorne?” Nick turned to Mina, and his skin instantly warmed. Would it be this distracting to be near her when they were wed? “Will the ballroom be finished by then?”
“Our ballroom?” She let out a little gasp that made his pulse jump and his groin tighten.
“Yes, our ballroom.” He did like the sound of that.
“I believe so.” Mina glanced at Mrs. Shepard and then back at him, lips parted, dimples flashing as she broke into a smile. “Would the village planning committee like for us to host the dance here at Enderley, Mrs. Shepard?”
“Why, yes,” the older woman sputtered. “Yes, of course.”
Nick waited impatiently while Mina saw Mrs. Shepard out. This desperate anxiousness was new. He was a man who’d spent years relishing his solitude, pretending loneliness never touched him.
Mina made him see that he hadn’t loved being alone so much as he’d feared allowing anyone close. Now he craved her after five minutes of separation. How had he ever imagined they could live apart?
The sweetest bit was knowing that even when they were apart, she’d return.
When Mina stepped into the sitting room, he swept her into his arms and kissed her.
She didn’t hesitate, didn’t hold anything back, and that was the best part of all.
“Thank you,” she said when he’d set her back on her feet. “For offering the ballroom. It’s as if you’ve given the whole village an early Christmas gift.” She ran her hand down his chest, hooking her fingers inside his waistcoat. “Puts me in mind of what manner of gift one gives a duke for Christmas.”
“You,” he told her without a moment’s hesitation. “All I want is you.”
“Wherever we are?”
“To tell you the truth, Duchess, when you’re this close to me”—he pressed a hand to her lower back, pulling her body flush against his—“I don’t notice where I am.”
“Me neither.” She lifted onto her toes, brushed her cheek against his, and whispered in his ear. “As long as we’re together.”
Nick tangled his hand in her hair, tipped up her face, and bent to kiss her. But he hesitated, whispering against her lips, “That’s the only place I truly want to be.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
In the end, Nick and Mina remained at Enderley far longer than expected.
After obtaining a special license, they married just as she’d suggested. A small ceremony was held at the village church with the local vicar presiding. Lady Claxton and her granddaughter attended, a few villagers, and several members of Enderley’s staff, including Wilder and Emma.
Iverson and Huntley arrived in Barrowmere an hour before the ceremony to stand up with him, offering their unwanted advice on marriage.
And it had been perfect. The happiest day of Nick’s life. Until the next day. And the next. Each day with her still felt like a gift he didn’t quite deserve.
As the holiday approached, it made sense to remain at the estate rather than return to his private quarters at Lyon’s. He wished to make their first Christmas one she would never forget.
“Goodness, don’t you look wonderful.”
The sound of his duchess’s voice never failed to fill his chest with warmth, not to mention what it did to other parts of his body.
He turned to watch Mina approach the corner of the Enderley conservatory where he was inspecting a few newly installed panes of glass.
He tracked her gaze as she took in the evening suit he’d ordered from London. None of the interest and admiration waned when she looked at his scarred face and odd eyes.
Strange, wonderful woman.
She bit her lip when her gaze locked on his mouth.
Nick swallowed hard, and then his own gaze widened when he noticed her clothes.
“You’re wearing trousers to the dance?” Quite all right with him, of course. He would happily stare at the outline of her legs and backside all day, not to mention how much easier it was to touch her without layers of petticoats between them.
“Of course not.” She nudged him playfully when they were standing chest to chest. “But I thought they were more appropriate while I assist with any last-minute arrangements for the dance.”
“You needn’t worry about such matters. This is a night for you to enjoy yourself, not worry about everyone else.” Nick circled her waist with his arm and let his hand settle on the arch of her lower back. “That’s why we hired more staff.”
“The other staff expect me to assist them. I always have.” She bit her lip, not
in the seductive way that caused him to haul her into his arms and rush to the nearest bed, but in the way that meant she was fretting. “Besides, I like organizing. I’m good at it.”
“You’re good at many things.” He bent to kiss her, a quick but reassuring taste of her lips. “You probably even have a list.”
“Several, if you must know.” She beamed proudly, but then her smile faltered. “I hope the staff will come to accept my change in circumstances.”
They would. Nick would insist, and he’d seen no evidence that any of Enderley’s existing servants were anything but pleased for their happiness.
“Anyone who knows you comes to love you.” His voice roughened. He’d fallen under her spell quickly and never wished it to end. “Enderley’s staff wish to see you happy. The villagers too. Don’t worry about the likes of Magistrate Hardbrook. I suspect he’ll come around too.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“Then you can content yourself with knowing your husband loves and adores you.” Nick pulled her tighter against him, needing her warmth and softness, needing her to feel how much he wanted her. “Alternatively, I’m prepared to pleasure you until you forget the stodgy magistrate.”
Her breath hitched. He loved the sound of it and the evidence of how they affected each other.
Mina drew her hand along his waistcoat buttons, down his chest to the edge of his trousers. Nick knew they had a dance to attend within the hour, but part of him prayed she’d continue her explorations.
“This reminds me of the one you wore the first day we met,” she said.
“You paid attention to my waistcoat?”
“Mmm.” A mischievous grin carved dimples in her cheek. “More the way you looked in your waistcoat.”
Talk of clothing made Nick want to remove every thread of hers. He dipped his head to kiss her again, but footsteps just over his shoulder stalled them both.
“A visitor to see you, Your Grace.” Wilder stood two feet away.
Nick narrowed one eye at the old man. His footsteps were as quiet as Milly’s and her little band of kittens.
“Who is it, Wilder?”
The old man’s mouth tightened into a grimace. “Mr. Gregory Lyle, sir.”
Mina tensed in his arms, and Nick suddenly wished he’d done more than slam the younger Lyle out of a saddle.
“Let me speak to him,” Mina said softly.
Nick held his breath when he saw the determination in her gold-brown gaze.
“Trust me, Nick.”
He did. Good grief, there were now four people he trusted. Five if he added Wilder. All things considered, he might even add Lady Claxton to the list.
This love business wasn’t quite what he expected. It wasn’t a tangle, but more of an unfettering. A feeling that grew and expanded, demanding to multiply and spread. Some sliver of it had begun to encompass the staff, the villagers, even the old stone walls of Enderley that Nick had spent so many years loathing.
“I do trust you,” he told her. “But I wouldn’t put my faith in him if he was the last man in England.”
“Just let me see what he wants.” She bounced up and pressed a kiss against his cheek.
Nick waited until she departed and then followed quietly, attempting to be as silent-footed as Wilder. He heard her voice and Lyle’s emerge from the sitting room where Nick had rested, and made love to Mina, after his injuries.
“I don’t care why you’ve come. Just go,” she told the younger Lyle. “I’ve found happiness. More than you can imagine.”
“If you’d just listen.” Gregory Lyle’s voice was oddly calm, not the high-pitched whine he’d employed during the business with the stallion. “I’ve merely come to apologize.”
“Why?” Mina’s tone was wary and gruff.
Nick grinned with pride.
“Because Lady Claxton insisted, and because you’re the Duchess of Tremayne. Our families have resided side by side in this village for centuries. We should not be at war.”
Nick bent his head, straining to hear her reply, but there was silence for a long stretch.
“Fine. I accept. Now go. You weren’t invited, Mr. Lyle.”
The young man had the audacity to chuckle at her.
Nick’s hands tightened into fists.
“Goodness, Mina,” the younger Lyle finally said. “Perhaps you will make a fierce duchess after all.”
“I think I will. Now go before I punch you again.”
Nick receded into the shadows of the hall as Lyle departed, then entered the sitting room to find Mina with her back to the door. She was staring out onto Enderley’s fields, arms lashed across her chest, the toe of her boot tapping insistently against the carpet.
“Were you listening the entire time?” she asked without turning to look at him.
“Most of it,” Nick admitted. “You punched him?”
She swung to face him. “Only the once.”
“Well done.” Nick approached and took her in his arms.
Mina tensed at first, then melted against him and twined her hands around his neck. “You’re not appalled?”
“Why would I be?”
“A duchess shouldn’t be throwing fists at viscounts’ sons.”
Nick stroked her cheek and wished her hair hadn’t already been pinned into artful waves and delicate curls. He wanted to take it all down and slide his fingers through every strand.
“My darling hellion.” He kissed her, moaning when she took the lead, merrily sinking her fingers into his hair and clutching at his shoulder to pull him closer. “You’re my perfect duchess, whether you’re organizing the staff or putting irritating noblemen in their places.”
She pulled back, breathless. “I should change into my gown for the dance.”
“Can I help?” Nick cupped her bottom in his hands. “At least with the undressing part?”
She quirked one brow. “If you did, we’d never make it back downstairs to the dance.”
His duchess was being practical again.
Nick let out a long-suffering groan, kissed Mina one last time, and let her go.
Music drifted up from downstairs and Mina smiled. She hadn’t heard music at Enderley in so long. Years. It felt like forever.
Despite what he’d intended when he arrived, Nick’s presence had brought more improvement to the estate than they’d seen in a decade.
He’d improved her life too, offering her more passion and joy than she’d ever dared to hope for. Nick held nothing back now, and that was the best gift of all.
Their marriage was still so new, some mornings she woke convinced it was all some fairy tale she’d dreamed. Until she found the warm muscled length of his body pressed against hers.
Nothing compared to the bliss of waking up in his arms.
After checking her gown and hair one last time in the mirror and Mina took a few deep, steadying breaths and started down to toward the ballroom. In her mind, she checked off the list of everything they’d done to prepare for the dance, hoping nothing had been forgotten.
Then she spotted Nick waiting for her at the bottom of the staircase.
Her breath snagged in her throat. Behind him, every staff member at Enderley had assembled, along with Mrs. Shepherd and a few other villagers who’d arrived early.
They were all smiling, looks of encouragement and well wishes lighting their gazes. She feared backlash from the staff or that some in Barrowmere might think her an upstart for having risen from steward to duchess. But she’d underestimated them, and perhaps herself.
She’d certainly underestimated Nick.
Mina stumbled on the skirt of her dress, and Nick bolted up the stairs. He took her arm and stood close enough for his heat to warm her skin.
“I remember this gown fondly,” he whispered. “Red becomes you, love.”
She’d purchased the gown Mr. Iverson had loaned to her, knowing her sharp-eyed husband would recognize the dress.
“Makes me want to carry you down,” he tease
d. “It’s been too long since I had you in my arms.”
“I was in your arms less than an hour ago.”
“As I said, too long.”
“Just let me hold on to you,” Mina said as she slid her arm around his.
“Always.”
As they descended, Mina noticed how busy the staff had been in the minutes since she’d gone up to dress. Candles were lit throughout the main hall, and rich red poinsettias and glossy holly leaves had been strategically placed on every flat surface. A few pots of flowers even lined the floor on the way to the ballroom.
“Welcome, everyone,” she said to those assembled. “Let us be merry and make excellent memories this Christmas season.”
“The blessings of the season to you, Your Grace.” Wilder spoke in his deep, unwavering voice and offered her a gentle grin before stepping back and taking his place near the threshold to oversee the festivities.
Mina tightened her hold on Nick’s arm, but her apprehension melted away.
“There’ve been a few changes in the ballroom,” Nick said as they reached the bottom of the stairs. He’d taken over the project of overseeing the ballroom repairs and cagily kept her out of the room as they finished. “Would you like to see before the rest of the guests arrive?”
“Yes, show me.”
Mina felt Nick’s muscles tense as they reached the threshold, but he needn’t have feared. The changes were spectacular. Her mouth fell open as she gaped at every inch of the glowing room.
“It’s extraordinary.”
He let out a trapped breath. “You like it?”
“I love every detail.” She stepped forward and he let her go. “Thank you.”
Not only had the leak been repaired, every wall had been repainted. Not in the original dove gray, but a warm gold. The frescoes had been cleaned, the floor polished until it glittered, and the wall sconces had been regilded so that they shone as bright as the candles flickering inside them.
“The gold reminds me of your eyes,” Nick said. He’d come up behind her and placed his hand at the small of her back.
“My eyes are brown.”
“Not when you look at me.”
Mina looked up to find him smiling. He came around to face her.
A Duke Changes Everything (The Duke's Den #1) Page 28