Page 26 of The Duke's Only Desire

Chapter Six

Sophie stood infront of the drawing room window and watched as Shay galloped away from the house, his black gelding kicking up billows of white snow beneath his ebony hooves.

“No, you’re not gone from me,” she whispered after him. “I saw the old you—Ifeltyou.”

Her belly tightened fiercely at the memory of his kisses. No monster could have kissed her like that, so tenderly and with so much affection, no matter what the fire had done to him, no matter how severe the scars. When she had been in his arms, she recognized the familiar pang inside her chest—

It was the overwhelming desire to be loved by him.

He did love her, she could feel it. Well, hedesiredher at least. She recognized that much in the kisses he allowed to venture just to the edge of passion and no further.

Yet he was keeping himself from her, and not just physically. Every time they began to laugh together, to tease or share their thoughts, as they had once done together, he pulled back.

“But you won’t be able to keep me at arm’s length forever,” she told his vanishing figure as he rode toward the woods at the foot of the hills. “Wewillhave a proper marriage.” Her lips twisted at the warning he’d given her and repeated, “The sooner you accept that, the happier we’ll both be.”

The best way she could do that was to accept her new role as Ravenscroft Manor’s mistress. So she pulled her cashmere shawl tighter around her shoulders, straightened her spine, and headed down through the house toward the kitchens. It was time she took charge.

Ravenscroft Manor was a grand house, built to resemble a French chateau, and it spread out across a steep hill in such a way that the three floors of living areas rose up from the approaching drive in front, while another two floors seemed to cascade down the side of the hill behind. The kitchens, cellars, and workrooms were located there, with a wall of windows to let in enough light to work by yet tucked out of sight of family and guests so nothing unpleasant would be visible during the grand parties the house was designed to host. But, as Sophie knew, no parties had been held here since the last duchess ran away…during one of those same very grand parties. So many guests, servants, and musicians had been crammed into the rooms, in fact, that no one realized she was gone until the following afternoon. Not even her own family.

“Perhaps that can change now,” she murmured to herself as she descended the main staircase that spiraled down to the ground floor, from where the reception rooms spilled out invitingly. A grand entry hall, two adjoining drawing rooms, a loggia that ran along the length of the house and gave gorgeous views of the hills undulating across the horizon, a spectacular octagonal winter garden room at the center of the house that should have been filled with exotic plants but now sat empty…and beyond those lay a music room, a billiards room, the wonderful library she’d seen the first time she’d been here, and the gentleman’s room, tucked off the library where she’d first glimpsed Shay.

And now she was supposed to oversee all of it.Good heavens.The Granville estate was little more than a countrybox compared to Ravenscroft, and being mistress there hadn’t prepared her at all for this place. Even when she’d been engaged to John, the thought of living here had always been some sort of abstract dream. Now, though, it was real, and she would rise to the challenge.

She bit her bottom lip.Somehow.

Tucked into a corner turret off the stairs hall, the servants’ stairs snaked down into the kitchens below, and she descended, hoping she didn’t look as out of place as she felt. After all, she would be expected to oversee the kitchens and workrooms—or at least, supervise the people who would do the actual overseeing—and so needed to acquaint herself with them. No better time to start than the present.

When she stepped into the main kitchen, all the servants froze, their eyes widening. Then they all bobbed uncomfortable curtsies and mumbled their greetings beneath their breaths.

“Your Grace!” A portly woman with flame-red hair sticking out from beneath her white cap scurried around the massive work table dominating the room and hurried toward Sophie. She gestured over her shoulder at a young maid who ran from the room as if her life depended upon it, leaving Sophie to blink in bewilderment after her. The woman lowered herself into a teetering curtsey so low that Sophie feared she might have to grab for the woman’s arm to keep her from toppling over. “We weren’t told ye were comin’ down,” she said in a faint Scottish brogue. “We dinna expect ye.”

Sophie smiled warmly to put the woman at ease. “I hope you don’t mind the interruption. I thought I would come down to introduce myself.” The woman’s face paled at the many breeches of protocol accompanying that simple statement. Sophie didn’t care. This would be her home for the rest of her life, and she wanted it to be comfortable for everyone, right down to the scullery maids. “And you are…?”

“Mrs. Latimer, ma’am.” She bobbed another curtsey, and Sophie fought to keep from rolling her eyes. That would be the first new household rule. No more curtsies. “The cook.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you.” She swept her eyes around the kitchen, noting everything from the rows of shining copper pots and pans all neatly stacked on the long shelves to the large clock ticking away over the doorway…to the shocked expressions of the rest of the staff as they continued to stare at her as if she were a carnival bear on display. “My! What a fine kitchen you keep. I can tell already that Ravenscroft Manor is in good hands.”

The plump cook blushed at the compliment. “Thank you, ma’am. An’ it’s a right good pleasure to meet you.” When Sophie didn’t move to return to the family’s upstairs domain and leave the servants to theirs, she dared to ask, “What else can I do fer ye, ma’am?”

“I…that is, I…” Words failed her. Clearly, the servants didn’t need her to oversee them. She’d been daft to think they did. After all, they’d been running the house without a mistress for almost twenty years and didn’t need a stranger to tell them how to manage. In fact, she was an inconvenience for them.

“Now, Mrs. Latimer,” another woman called out as she hurried into the room, with the kitchen maid who had darted out at Sophie’s arrival scurrying closely behind. “You know why Her Grace is here.”

The cook blinked. “I do?”

The other woman, dressed in the dark gray of a housekeeper’s uniform, sent Mrs. Latimer a chastising glance. “She wants to discuss the menus and housekeeping details.” Then she gave Sophie a welcoming smile and bobbed a shallow curtsey. “Forgive us, Your Grace. We haven’t had a mistress here for so long that we’ve grown out of certain habits.”

Sophie’s shoulders lowered with relief at being saved. “And you are?”

“Mrs. Sexton, the housekeeper. I regret I wasn’t able to properly welcome you upon your arrival last night, ma’am, and introduce you to the staff.”

She was being saved from that, too. “Perfectly understandable. We arrived late and without sending word ahead.”

“If you would like, ma’am, I can accompany you to one of the drawing rooms, and we can go over the menus there.”

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

Mrs. Sexton gave her own smile of relief and turned toward Mrs. Latimer. “Would you make up a tray of tea and refreshments and have it taken up to the Italian sitting room for Her Grace?”