Page 39 of The Duke's Only Desire

Sophie sat atthe little writing desk in her bedroom and sketched out her plans for the garden, although the desk wasn’t truly big enough to do any real work. But then, as she had quickly learned after arriving here, she wasn’t meant to do anyrealwork. Oh, she could make plans all she wanted, but there would be a team of gardeners to carry them out so she wouldn’t have to dirty her hands. Even the little bit she’d been able to do had stopped when she cut her hand, because Shay had been concerned enough—for no good reason, truly—to insist she have a footman by her side at all times, even when up to her ankles in dead plants.

He’d taken all the fun right out of gardening.

“Then I’ll just have to find a way to thwart the footman,” she mumbled to herself as she looked over her to-do list.

A knock interrupted her thoughts, and she looked up to find the butler standing at the open door. “Yes, Henley?”

“You have a visitor, Your Grace,” he told her. “Lord Malcolm, the Duke of Malvern’s uncle. I’ve asked him to wait in the yellow drawing room.”

Shay’s uncle? Her heart skipped nervously.Heavens.She’d hoped to meet Shay’s extended family, but not so soon. And certainly not without prior notice.

She looked down at her blue morning dress and matching pelisse and bit her bottom lip. The outfit was far too casual for such an important meeting. But her appearance couldn’t be helped. She couldn’t ask him to wait while she changed—his first impression of her then would be one of rudeness and vanity. Oh, she’d wanted to make a better impression on Shay’s family than this!

Henley cleared his throat. “If I may suggest, ma’am,” he offered helpfully, “you can greet him, have a refreshments tray sent to the drawing room so he can serve himself while you change…and while the groom sends for His Grace to return to the house.”

Her shoulders sagged with relief at the suggestion. “Henley, what would I do without you? Let’s do exactly that.”

His face flushed from the compliment. Then he nodded and stepped back to let her pass into the hall.

He followed her to the drawing room just so he could open the door for her and announce her to Lord Malcolm. She gave the butler a grateful nod as he slipped from the room and hurried away to order a tea tray and find the head groom.

Malcolm Douglass stood at the tall window overlooking the rear gardens as if surveying the estate, his hands clasped behindhis back and his stance wide. When he turned at her entrance, a displeased frown darkened his face, which only grew deeper when he cast an assessing glance over her, clearly finding her lacking. She didn’t have to be told how this man was related to Shay—she knew with one glance. He resembled Shay’s late father too much to be anyone other than his paternal uncle. So much so that her heart stuttered as terrible memories of her first visit to Ravenscroft assaulted her.

“Lord Malcolm.” Despite her nervousness, she forced a bright smile and came forward, her hands extended in warm greeting. “Welcome to Ravenscroft Manor.”

A soft humph from him joined a patronizing smile, and he merely looked at her hands, keeping his own clasped behind his back. “No need to welcome me. This was my first home. I grew up here.”

“Of course, you did.” She kept her smile firmly in place and lowered her hands to her sides. She waited a moment for him to bow, but he remained solidly upright. Not wanting him to see her reaction to that bit of rudeness, she said, “I’m so pleased to meet you, Lord Malcolm. Malvern was just saying last evening that we should invite you to visit.”

Shay had said no such thing. He hadn’t even mentioned he had an uncle. But Shay’s family was now hers, and she wanted the man to feel welcome.

“Malvern, is it?” he muttered, his patronizing smile growing tighter. “That makes you the new duchess, then, doesn’t it?” Another critical look slid over her. This time, instead of a frown, he seemed to find the idea of her highly amusing. “The Duchess of Malvern.” He chuckled. “My, my!”

“We’re family. Address me as Sophie, please, if I may call you Uncle?”

“You may not, Your Grace.”

The coldness of that rivaled the winter day outside. Sophie pulled in a deep breath and somehow kept her smile from wavering. If this man had been anyone else but Shay’s relative, she would have walked out.

But she couldn’t. As much as it dismayed her to learn, he was now her uncle, too. So she had no choice but to engage in meaningless conversation and pray the tea tray arrived soon so she could leave him to change.

She gestured toward the sofa for him to sit. “I hope you didn’t find the journey too uncomfortable in this freezing weather.”

He remained right where he stood. “I’ve lived in the area my entire life. Winter doesn’t bother me, and my home at Halston Hall is only three hours away. I was barely in the carriage long enough to feel any chill at all. But then, I suppose someone from further south—say, London—would find it trying, perhaps enough to go fleeing right back to the south.”

He cackled a dry laugh at his own joke, which forced Sophie to smile politely, although she was certain the joke was about her.

The amusement in his eyes turned icy. “I’d heard impossible rumors that my nephew had married an earl’s daughter.Impossiblebecause Malvern never leaves Ravenscroft Manor, and because no earl in his right mind would offer his daughter in marriage to my nephew.”

No,thatshould have him tossed out. How much of a breach of propriety would it be if she had the footman who followed her through the gardens toss this man out on his aristocratic arse? Right on a pile of steaming compost, too.

“So I had to hurry here to discover for myself that the gossip wasn’t true, that the same earl’s daughter had thrown over her intended banker to marry a hermit.”

Sophie’s mouth fell open, not only at the insults leveled at both her and Shay, but…how on earth did he know about her engagement to James Norton?

This time when he raked his gaze over her, open hostility pricked everywhere he looked. “I fear I am wrong in believing in impossibilities.”

“Happily, my lord, you are.” The smile she gave him was genuine. “My father, the Earl of Granville, was very much in his right mind when he consented for Malvern to marry me.” Then she lied, “I’ve never been happier in my life since marrying Seamus and coming here to live. It’s already become my dear home.”