Chapter Nineteen
Henry grinned. “Ready?”
“Absolutely not.”
Laughter filled the carriage as it rumbled to a slow halt. Henry had never known such perfect joy—at least, not since leaving the forge.
Now that was a place where he had made some truly spectacular memories, he thought as he leaned back in the sumptuously decorated carriage. He could never look at an anvil in the same way again. Not without feeling a desperate need to place Minny on it and—
“This is rather rebellious of you, though, isn’t it?” Minny interrupted his thoughts.
Henry took her hand in his.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Henry said with a grin.
Not entirely true.
The news that Henry Everleigh, Duke of Dulverton, had returned to London after his mysterious absence with a future bride—one of no family, no fortune, and with callouses on her fingers—had been the absolute talk of the ton for several weeks.
Dulverton takes dull wife
Duke presumes society will accept coarse bride
Dulverton name further dragged into the mud
Henry had seen the headlines, despite Peg’s attempts to hide them. It was astonishing what one could learn from one’s manservant.
“Not that I take any credence of the nonsense, Your Grace,” Jenks had added hastily, after sharing the rather lurid headlines.
And Henry had done nothing but laughed.
Reputation? What need he of the newspapers’ good wishes?
He was a duke, something no one could take from him. He was a wealthy and—mostly—respected gentleman, something that only his own foolish actions could remove. Thank goodness no one else had been witness to his foolish outburst at the blacksmith’s.
And most importantly, he had Minny.
Henry’s gaze drifted over the form of his future bride as she sat beside him in the carriage. Every part of her was precious, not just because of her beauty, but because of her strength. It was something he was growing to appreciate, if possible, more with each passing day.
One of those strong fingers dug into his ribs. “You know precisely what I mean, Your Grace,” teased Minny, cheeks flushed. “We are not yet married, and you are still taking me to see Dulverton Manor! Does that not strike you as inappropriate?”
Henry shrugged. “Perhaps it is—but as I have no intention of breaking off this engagement, and as I will see you at the altar in just a few weeks, I will just have to hope you do not abscond with my heart before I make you mine.”
Minny grinned as she snuggled into him, her head resting on his shoulder. “I am not sure I could be even more yours than I am already.”
Warmth spread across Henry’s heart.
She was right. They had attempted not to indulge in lovemaking, but it had been difficult. Even Ted at the King’s Head had raised an eyebrow at his late returns when the inn was about to be closed up for the night.
The carriage continued to slow, and Henry glanced out of the window. The familiar avenue of beeches met his eyes and something of the tension around his shoulders melted away.
There was nothing like coming home.
“Here we are,” he murmured.
Minny lifted her head from his shoulder to look, and a great deal of satisfaction poured through him as he watched her eyes widen.
“Goodness, you have some very impressive neighbors.”
Henry blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“Well, look at this place!” Minny said, pointing at the window and the magnificent castle they could make out through the trees. “Several stories high, turrets, I am sure there is a dungeon in there somewhere! What is the owner like?”
“Oh, an absolute scoundrel.”
“I can see that just from his battlements,” Minny nodded approvingly. “Terrible with women, I suppose.”
“Truly awful,” Henry said truthfully.
“And a scoundrel, you say? We shall to make sure we avoid—why are you smiling?”
Henry quickly forced his face to be serious. “I’m not smiling.”
“Yes, you are,” Minny said accusingly. “Why?”
“Because,” said Henry quietly as the carriage turned to meander down the drive toward the magnificent castle, “I am that scoundrel.”
For a moment, she simply stared, utterly astonished, as Henry’s heart beat painfully in his chest. Had he mistaken the growing rapport between them—had he accidently—
Minny’s snort echoed around the whole carriage. “Henry Everleigh, you devil!”
“Guilty as charged,” he said happily, squeezing his beloved’s hand as the carriage drew up outside the castle.
“But you—you never said that—”
“It would be most uncouth for a gentleman to boast about the size of one’s…castle,” said Henry with mock severity.
Minny’s eyes were wide. “But you said—you said it was called Dulverton Manor!”
“And so it is,” Henry said briskly, opening the door before the driver or footmen could reach it, and stepping out into the fresh morning air. “Dulverton Manor. Was this not what you excepted?”
Such joy overwhelmed him as his future bride stepped out of the carriage—without a helping hand, naturally—and stared at the impressive facade that was the welcoming East Side of the castle.
This was his home. And yet somehow, it had never felt complete.
Perhaps that was why it was so relatively easy for him to disappear into Pathstow and assume the life of a mere man, leaving behind the duchy and all it entailed.
Only now that Minny was standing before him in the spring sunshine did Henry see just what he had been missing. A wife. A companion, a partner—a truly better self.
“Welcome to your new home,” he said softly.
Minny’s gaze flickered between his face and the castle. “If this is a trick, Henry—”
“Would I dare to risk your wrath?” Henry said bracingly, pulling her hand into his arm and striding forward. “Come on, let me take you on the tour.”
It was not so much a tour as a swift walk. Once, when Henry had been young, he and Peg had surreptitiously followed the housekeeper of the time around the place when she was giving a tour to a few people who had come up from London.
There was so much of Dulverton Manor, that was the trouble. One could simply not take in the place in one visit. Two dining rooms, three drawing rooms, library, study, morning room, orangery, billiards room, smoking room, gun room…and that was just one floor.
“You seriously cannot tell me that this wing is your sister’s? The whole wing?”
Henry shrugged as they reached the top of the second staircase, sunlight drifting lazily through the oriel windows along the corridor. “Why not?”
“Because…because…” spluttered Minny, her eyes wide as they stepped into Peg’s drawing room. The place was lavishly furnished, as only the sister of a duke would expect. “An entire wing?”
“Well, it was designed as the Dower Wing, but as our mother has sadly died, I thought it was only right that Peg—Margaret had a place of her own,” Henry explained with a laugh. “Which may, in hindsight, have precipitated her lack of inhibitions when she went to town.”
“Too accustomed to getting her own way?”
Henry grinned as he saw Minny’s raised eyebrow. “Something like that.”
“I like her already.”
His heart twisted with joy and more than a little relief. Now he was starting to get to know Peg all over again, he had been astonished to find she was perhaps just as strong-willed as his future wife.
“Come, I want to show you something,” he said impetuously.
Minny laughed as he pulled her faster back to the main staircase and up again. “Really? You have shown me so little up until now!”
His heart soared as he opened the door Henry knew he absolutely should.
His bedchamber.
“Oh, my…” Minny breathed, head tilting up.
It was what everyone did the first time they stepped into the ducal bedchamber.
At least, Henry thought wretchedly, no one else ever would. This was Minny’s domain now. All past mistakes were—hopefully—behind him. Now there’d be only fresh ones.
“This place is truly stupendous,” Minny whispered under the impressive painting.
Henry nodded. He had thought that, the first time he had been ushered into the place. Some said it was definitely a Michelangelo—if anyone could prove he had been to England. Others said it was a da Vinci, though how they explained that as the man had never even left Italy, Henry did not know.
“Whoever had painted it was clearly a master,” he said aloud.
Minny squeezed his arm without looking away from the painting. “Or a mistress.”
Dear God, he would never stop being challenged by this woman, would he? And, Henry found with delight he had no wish to.
Minny Banfield was a treasure, not because she could be beaten into submission like a piece of iron to fit the role of duchess that Society expected of her.
No. Henry would keep her just as she was—much like the rest of his horse shoe attempts. It really was a tricky piece of work, he had tried to tell Minny only yesterday, and it was shameful that she took such delight in teasing him about his efforts.
“Well, this will be our bedchamber,” he said aloud.
Pink tinged Minny’s cheeks as she slipped her hand from his arm. “Truly?”
Henry nodded. “Just a few weeks…”
It was impossible to keep the longing from his voice, but he had no need to censure himself before Minny. She knew his desires, shared in many of them. Had already shared some of them. And there was so much more to enjoy…
Henry shivered.
“Cold?”
“With you? Never,” he said with a laugh. “But I suppose you will have to accustom yourself to living a life of wealth and splendor now. It’s quite a come down for a woman I considered a harpy.”
Minny punched him, gently, though with far more force than a lady would, on the arm. “You and your nonsense, Henry.”
“I think you will find that it’s your nonsense, actually—ouch!”
“Serves you right,” Minny said nonchalantly.
Henry staggered backward, clutching at his arm in mock agony. “I am wounded!”
“Only because I am stronger than you.”
The witty retort could not have come from more delectable lips. A rush of desire in his loins followed as Minny walked to the window and looked out at the gardens.
What was he going to do with himself whenever she was in his presence? He became an absolute fool—Peg had already said how the very mention of Minny was enough to make him tongue-tied.