Page 23 of The Duke's Only Desire

Darla’s question pulled her out of her nervousness, and she smiled appreciatively. The thought of lingering in a tub of hot water was sweet temptation. “Why don’t you come back in half an hour? Then you can help me dress.” She prodded gently, “And perhaps tell me about Ravenscroft Manor.”

The maid nodded and excused herself.

Sophie removed her shift, quickly pinned up her hair, and stepped carefully into the large tub. The rush of hot water across her skin brought out a soft sigh from her lips, and she sank down to her neck, luxuriating in the lavender water. She leaned back her head, closed her eyes, and enjoyed the exquisite bath. Half an hour went by too soon, and she reluctantly left her bath, wrapped herself in the thick robe and slippers, and returned to her room.

Her travel trunk and bag had been unpacked, her clothes carefully placed into the armoire, and her toiletries spread across the dressing table. A small breakfast tray had been delivered while she had been soaking, filled with her favorites, too—toast with marmalade, a pot of chocolate, eggs, bacon…someone had even managed to find a handful of precious strawberries in the middle of winter.

She lifted one of the red berries and frowned at it. The cook could only have known what to prepare if Shay had told her, and for Shay to do something like that…why?Their marriage was one of convenience, that was all. Shay had been very clear about that. Yet this was a sign of affection from a man who was legally entitled to make love to her but couldn’t even bring himself to kiss her when she was awake. The contradiction was maddening.

Darla knocked softly before entering the bedroom, and in her hands, she carried one of Sophie’s dresses, freshly pressed. “I took the liberty of selecting this one for you, ma’am.”

“Thank you.” She popped the strawberry into her mouth and gave a soft sigh at its sweet goodness.

Darla draped the winter dress, whose velvet fabric was offset by delicate lace edging the modest neckline and long sleeves, across the bed, then hurried into the dressing room to select undergarments.

“His Grace has asked to see you as soon as you’re dressed,” Darla informed her over her shoulder.

Sophie froze, a second berry halfway to her lips. A small thrill sped through her, only for her to chastise herself at being such a goose. He certainly wasn’t planning on sweeping her away to his bed.

Darla dressed her with only minimal direction, then slid the dress over Sophie’s head and helped tug the skirts and long sleeves into place. When the buttons were all fastened, Sophie sat at the dressing table and allowed Darla to fix her hair.

“Tell me about Ravenscroft Manor,” Sophie cajoled, partly to ease the maid’s nervousness. The girl had clearly never fixed a lady’s hair before and was a bit overwhelmed with all the pearl-tipped pins and tortoiseshell combs. But Sophie didn’t care. She was more interested in learning about her new home and the people she would be sharing it with than with a perfect coiffure.

“What would you like to know?”

Everything.“Well, let’s start with you. How long have you been employed here?”

As Darla brushed and pinned up her hair into what proved to be a simple but fine chignon, she shared information about herself and then about her fellow servants on the estate. Sophie listened silently, taking it all in, grateful for the information about her new home.

“You should speak with Mr. Enfield, Your Grace. He’s the estate agent and can tell you all about its history, the village, its tenants… I’m certain they’re all looking forward to meetingyou.” She paused as she placed the last pin. “Or Miss Danvies. She’s the local midwife.Sheknows everything that goes on in the village.” She stepped back with a pleased smile. “All done.”

Sophie checked her appearance in the mirror. She was pale at the thought of speaking with Shay, but the conversation could not be delayed. She was mistress of Ravenscroft Manor now, and she needed to know what was expected of her as the estate’s mistress, his duchess…and his wife.

As if reading her mind, Darla silently slid a small pot of rouge across the vanity to her.

“Darla,” Sophie confided as she applied just enough of the color to pink her cheeks, “you will make a wonderful lady’s maid.”

The maid flushed with embarrassment and set about straightening the room.

That was Sophie’s cue to leave. The time had come to confront her husband.

*

Shay felt Sophie’spresence in the open doorway of his study before he saw her.Before?Hell, he never even had to look up from the pile of papers on his desk to know she was standing there, watching him, biting her bottom lip in that contemplative way she had when she was attempting to work out a puzzle.

But she might as well give up. He’d long ago passed the point of being understood.

“Good morning,” he said, still looking at the paperwork, as if his attention was still riveted there. “Or should I say…good afternoon?”

He lifted his gaze to her just in time to see her release her bottom lip from between her teeth and straighten her spine. He fought back a soft laugh at her expense.

“Welcome to Ravenscroft Manor.” He set down the papers and leaned back casually in his chair, although the sensations filling him were anything but casual. “Welcome home.”

“That sounds odd to hear,” she admitted.

It felt even odder to say. But this placewasher home. She had always been meant to live here. Just not with him.

“You should grow used to hearing it,” he told her, pushing back from the desk and rising to his feet. “After all, you’re mistress here now.”