shoulder, silently agreed.
“She does not look upon James with affection,” his aunt went on. “Miss Melbourne is
too worldly for my sweet boy. She will disappoint him someday and crush his trust
cruelly, I fear.”
Again, Gavin agreed with his aunt’s assessment. Miss Melbourne would eventually grow
weary of a quiet country life and the retiring position James held. She was the kind
of woman who would want excitement, adventure—passion. When she did not find that
with her husband, she was likely to seek it elsewhere. Even though James did not love
her, he would expect faithfulness from his wife. Her perfidy would devastate him , not to mention damage his status with his congregation and church superiors.
Seeing his frail aunt tremble, Gavin took her hand and patted it. “Do not fret.”
“If James marries the terrible girl, how can we stop the gossip? How can we protect
him from the hurt she will inevitably crush him with?” she challenged. “It’s impossible, I
fear, for he’s quite decided to wed her.”
Again, Aunt Caroline was right. Gavin sighed, knowing suddenly what he must do. “Then
James cannot be allowed to marry the girl. I will think of some way to prevent their
marriage.” He kissed Aunt Caroline’s cheek, hoping to ease the worried expression
from her loving, familiar face. “Leave everything to me.”
* * * *
The next morning, Kira entered the music room, a small brightly-colored place rarely
inhabited by others, she had observed. She eyed the pianoforte , an instrument as lovely as she had ever seen , but had no urge to play it, despite the fact she missed making music.
Instead, she sat on a cozy sofa, curling her feet beneath her, and held a volume of
poetry that included the works of Percy Bysshe Shelley and Robert Southey. In fact,
she’d been surprised to find the book here at Norfield Park; Cropthorne did not seem
the type of man to enjoy poetry.
Sighing, Kira opened the book. The fire burned cheerfully in the hearth, and peace
drenched the landscape outside the window, which had seen rain not an hour before.
It was the perfect time to relax.
Still, anxiety niggled at her. Kira knew she should be concerned about her future.
Darius wanted to confront the odious Lord Vance. Mrs. Howland disapproved of her,
though likely held her tongue for James’s sake. The duke watched her with a sharp,
disconcerting stare. Still, she refused to think of such inconveniences today. Within
a few weeks, she and James would be married, and all these problems would be behind
her. They would move to Tunbridge Wells in Kent. No one there knew her, and once she
became Mrs. James Howland, hopefully no one would know about her unfortunate incident
with Lord Vance or care about her heritage. She hoped then to finally have some peace, some acceptance.
Stifling a yawn, Kira settled deeper into the sofa and closed her eyes, only to hear
the lifting of the door’s latch.
Who would come here, after the room had been empty for days? James and Darius had
agreed to exercise the horses almost the moment the rain paused. Once alone with Mrs.
Howland, the woman had pleaded a headache and retreated to her rooms, which left—
The Duke of Cropthorne.
A glance over her shoulder confirmed he stood in the portal, watching her with dark,
unwavering eyes. Had he come here in search of privacy? Or in search of her?
“Your grace,” she greeted cautiously.
He nodded, a regal incline of his head. Then he closed the door behind him with a
decisive click.
Kira watched the improper gesture. Her mind turned. Her heart began to beat. Why would
he shut the door in such a deliberate manner? She was still an unmarried lady , he an unattached gentleman to whom she was not related. Reputations were ruined this
way.
Apparently he believed hers already beyond repair.
Warily, she rose to her feet, laying the poetry down on the table before her. “If
you should
“She does not look upon James with affection,” his aunt went on. “Miss Melbourne is
too worldly for my sweet boy. She will disappoint him someday and crush his trust
cruelly, I fear.”
Again, Gavin agreed with his aunt’s assessment. Miss Melbourne would eventually grow
weary of a quiet country life and the retiring position James held. She was the kind
of woman who would want excitement, adventure—passion. When she did not find that
with her husband, she was likely to seek it elsewhere. Even though James did not love
her, he would expect faithfulness from his wife. Her perfidy would devastate him , not to mention damage his status with his congregation and church superiors.
Seeing his frail aunt tremble, Gavin took her hand and patted it. “Do not fret.”
“If James marries the terrible girl, how can we stop the gossip? How can we protect
him from the hurt she will inevitably crush him with?” she challenged. “It’s impossible, I
fear, for he’s quite decided to wed her.”
Again, Aunt Caroline was right. Gavin sighed, knowing suddenly what he must do. “Then
James cannot be allowed to marry the girl. I will think of some way to prevent their
marriage.” He kissed Aunt Caroline’s cheek, hoping to ease the worried expression
from her loving, familiar face. “Leave everything to me.”
* * * *
The next morning, Kira entered the music room, a small brightly-colored place rarely
inhabited by others, she had observed. She eyed the pianoforte , an instrument as lovely as she had ever seen , but had no urge to play it, despite the fact she missed making music.
Instead, she sat on a cozy sofa, curling her feet beneath her, and held a volume of
poetry that included the works of Percy Bysshe Shelley and Robert Southey. In fact,
she’d been surprised to find the book here at Norfield Park; Cropthorne did not seem
the type of man to enjoy poetry.
Sighing, Kira opened the book. The fire burned cheerfully in the hearth, and peace
drenched the landscape outside the window, which had seen rain not an hour before.
It was the perfect time to relax.
Still, anxiety niggled at her. Kira knew she should be concerned about her future.
Darius wanted to confront the odious Lord Vance. Mrs. Howland disapproved of her,
though likely held her tongue for James’s sake. The duke watched her with a sharp,
disconcerting stare. Still, she refused to think of such inconveniences today. Within
a few weeks, she and James would be married, and all these problems would be behind
her. They would move to Tunbridge Wells in Kent. No one there knew her, and once she
became Mrs. James Howland, hopefully no one would know about her unfortunate incident
with Lord Vance or care about her heritage. She hoped then to finally have some peace, some acceptance.
Stifling a yawn, Kira settled deeper into the sofa and closed her eyes, only to hear
the lifting of the door’s latch.
Who would come here, after the room had been empty for days? James and Darius had
agreed to exercise the horses almost the moment the rain paused. Once alone with Mrs.
Howland, the woman had pleaded a headache and retreated to her rooms, which left—
The Duke of Cropthorne.
A glance over her shoulder confirmed he stood in the portal, watching her with dark,
unwavering eyes. Had he come here in search of privacy? Or in search of her?
“Your grace,” she greeted cautiously.
He nodded, a regal incline of his head. Then he closed the door behind him with a
decisive click.
Kira watched the improper gesture. Her mind turned. Her heart began to beat. Why would
he shut the door in such a deliberate manner? She was still an unmarried lady , he an unattached gentleman to whom she was not related. Reputations were ruined this
way.
Apparently he believed hers already beyond repair.
Warily, she rose to her feet, laying the poetry down on the table before her. “If
you should
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