Page 28 of The Duke's Only Desire

He nodded. “Yes, Your Grace. Welcome to Ravenscroft Manor.”

Mrs. Sexton had told her all about the man, who had been away in the village most of the day tending to last minute details of his master’s arrival home, with an unexpected new duchess in tow. Their sudden wedding had upended the entire household, apparently.

“When I was here before, there was a very nice butler named Baines who served the late duke.”

“Ah, yes, Baines.” Henley folded his hands behind his back. “He was pensioned several years ago and moved into a cottage in the village with his brother.”

Happiness warmed her at hearing that. “Is he still there?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sophie hid a delighted smile. Only Baines and Shay had made her feel welcome here all those years ago. Already, she was planning on visiting the retired butler and thanking him. If only she could convince Shay to come with her.

“Dinner is ready, Your Grace.” Henley gestured toward the solitary place setting.

She knew the answer already, yet something dark inside her made her ask, “Where will Malvern be sitting?”

“His Grace sent word that he had been detained and that—”

“And that I should plan on dining alone,” she repeated Shay’s words from his study. No, not words—a warning.

So she took her place, helped into her chair by Henley. He went to the chafing dishes on the buffet table at the side of the room and returned with plates for her piled high with trout, duck, and all kinds of aromatic side dishes. Two wine glasses sat ready at her place, along with a plate of desserts to choose from when the main courses were finished.

She couldn’t bear to touch any of it, her appetite suddenly leaving her. But she also didn’t want to upset Mrs. Latimer and the kitchen staff after they’d put so much thought into preparing what were usually her favorite dishes, so she took her fork andsimply pushed the food around to make it look as if she’d eaten. The large room was painfully silent except for the snapping and popping of the wood fire and the soft scrape of her fork against the plate.

When she’d decided that a proper amount of time for dinner had passed, she thanked Henley and asked him to send her gratitude to Mrs. Latimer, then excused herself. It was all she could do to keep the stinging tears at bay as she made her way to her bedroom.

Darla was waiting there to undress her. The young maid chatted up a storm about everything from the cold snap of weather to how the village had been decorated last month at Christmastide, and Sophie let her rattle on without interrupting. Darla had no idea how important tonight should have been for her or how to prepare her for it, and Sophie didn’t dare press.

When Darla left, Sophie curled up on a chair in front of her fire, where she had a perfect view of the door connecting her rooms to Shay’s, and waited for him to come to her. Their first night in their home—no longer some rented room in a posting inn, but the place where they would start the rest of their married life together. He no longer had an excuse to avoid their marriage bed.

Hours later, though, when the clock struck midnight, she was still alone. No sound came from his rooms. So she blew out the candle, crawled into bed, and desperately fought not to cry herself to sleep.

*

It was longpast midnight when Shay finally returned, the house silent and dark. A single lamp glowed in the grand entry hall, and a small fire still flamed in the fireplace.Good.He strode upto it and held out his hands to its warmth. He was freezing. He’d lingered in the village as long as he’d dared before riding home, and the journey, even as short as it was, had been miserable.

He glanced up as Pearson came to greet him.

“The temperature has plunged,” Shay complained as he stripped off his hat, gloves, and coat and handed them over to Pearson’s waiting hands. “We’ll be lucky if the river doesn’t freeze over.”

“I was wondering if you’d make it back tonight through the weather.”

Shay’s mouth twisted. “Worried about me, were you, Pearson?”

“Worried about my pay, Colonel,” he muttered. “Funds run short quickly when the paymaster is dead. Learned that lesson the hard way after Waterloo.”

“Well, then, thank God you’ve got a new duchess to dispense the blunt if my sorry corpse is found frozen in the lane.”

Pearson gave a gruff chuckle and shook out the greatcoat.

Shay stared down into the fire, all the teasing of moments before vanishing from him. “And whereisthe duchess?”

“In her rooms, sir. Should I have the kitchen send up a dinner tray for you?”

“No. I ate at the tavern.” Then he’d spent the next four hours drinking so much watery ale that he had suspected he would slosh in the saddle riding home. When he couldn’t find any more men willing to play cards with him, even after he’d thrown game after game so his opponents would win, he’d had no choice but to come home.

“Then perhaps something for Her Grace. Is there anything specific she’d like?”