The Heart of a Duke(38)

One thing was certain. Julia was used to being in charge, or if not in charge, at least consulted. She would take umbrage at Edmund’s plans to abandon her in the country. She was used to being needed, not dismissed or forgotten.

Edmund’s pompous words had only confirmed that Julia deserved better than him. It was time she had a glimpse of what better looked like. Daniel intended to show her.

His mood improved, and he dressed quickly. If all went well, he was confident his Julia would choose ruination over Edmund. He would bet a crate of Barker’s vintage cognac on it.

“I recognize that look. You are thinking about her again,” Robbie complained. “I don’t want to hear it. Not one word. It is no surprise someone wanted to kill you, because I am having a devil of a time restraining myself.” He stomped to the door.

Daniel laughed as he collected his jacket. He paused and cursed, for damned if his brother had never returned Daniel’s room key.





Chapter Ten





JULIA loosely gripped Constance’s reins as she wended her way through the wooded path leading to Lakeview Manor. She had received a note from Daniel asking her to meet him on the grounds. His message had coincided with another delivery. Recognizing the Bedford crest, she had eagerly slid open the elegant, cream-colored envelope. It contained an invitation to a dinner party Edmund was hosting the following evening at Bedford Hall.

She wondered if Edmund was squeezing her into his schedule in response to her spending time with Daniel. Guilt stabbed her at the uncharitable thought. It was not a competition. She was betrothed to Edmund, and he could not possibly be jealous of his own brother. After all, he had no idea of the two kisses they had shared.

In any case, that was a thing of the past. Over and forgotten. Well, not entirely forgotten. She was still working on that.

The point of the matter was that Edmund was home now. This could be the new beginning she had hoped to initiate that day when she had accosted Daniel, believing him to be Edmund. This is what she had yearned for. A chance to discuss their future. To discuss Bedford Hall.

She worried her lower lip, doubts assailing her, which was unsettling in itself for she rarely suffered uncertainty. She was a strong, competent woman. She blamed Edmund for making her feel otherwise, and she didn’t like it. Thus, Daniel’s enigmatic invitation was opportune. She needed a distraction, and his was timely.

Plans have changed.

If you have the time, please honor me with your company at Lakeview Manor at noon tomorrow.

Daniel.

Daniel had disappeared over the last few days, this invite the first she had heard from him. At least it was a request. Edmund’s tone was more a directive. Another difference between the brothers, and those were adding up. Directive or not, Daniel had her thoroughly intrigued, so she had no other recourse but to respond.

She rode without a chaperone. Julia chafed at the idea of a companion. This was the country, not London. Besides, Daniel was nearly family, and he had treated her with the utmost courtesy for weeks. She frowned, wondering why that should nettle her. It was what she had wanted, wasn’t it?

Her question hung unanswered, for she had emerged through a path of trees to see Lakeview Manor’s sweeping vista unfurl before her. She drew Constance to a stop and paused to wonder at the beehive of activity before her.

Men in overalls and work gloves swarmed over the grounds like a colony of ants. The scraping, clattering, and clunking noises produced by hoes, rakes, and shovels filled the air. In tandem, they worked to roll back the blanket of nature that carpeted the skeletal remains of the manor and grounds. They tugged, cropped, and swatted at tangled ferns, brambles, sticks, and other debris that had breathed life into the desolate scene, giving it its natural beauty.

More men, a few women, and clusters of children scampered along the banks of the lake. A fishing line carved a white streak into the sky blue backdrop as it arched over the wind-brushed water.

“You came. I was hoping you would.”

She turned to see Daniel stride forward with that easy, athletic gait. He wore a navy blue riding coat, brown breeches, and a pair of scuffed Hessian boots. His hair, minus his tall hat, was wind tousled, his linen cravat loosely tied, his cheeks flushed from the cool breeze. He looked more country squire than nobleman.

It often disarmed her to see this Edmund look-alike melding into the pastoral setting as if he belonged, while Edmund never had. Edmund rarely looked less than a duke, neat, polished, and poised to greet royalty.

“What do you think?”

“Impressive. Are we to be neighbors again?” she teased, but hope caught in her throat as she awaited his reply.

“We are.” He slid his hands around her waist, lifting her down. “I promised to keep an eye on you, didn’t I?” His finger flicked one of the flowers lining her bonnet.