Ten
Hummingas SirWaddlesby rooted around by her feet, nibbling on succulent spring grass, Araminta hung the laundry to dry. Papa had arrived home the day before yesterday and had taken to his bed with a severe chest cold.
Aspoor luck would have it, Callidora and Laurella had contracted the illness, though the robustness of youth had reduced their symptoms to sore throats, a slight fever, and a hacking cough.
Thetwins enjoyed spending a few days in their bedclothes, tucked under a swath of blankets, while they read the treasures they’d borrowed from the town’s new library, sipped tepid ginger tea laced with honey, and spooned steaming chicken broth.
Witha household of sick people to care for, Araminta had missed her shift at the library yesterday. She’d sent a note round to Darius, apologizing and promising she would return as soon as possible.
Hopefully, he wouldn’t presume her absence would become habitual. More often than not, her life was a predictable routine, which perhaps was why working in the library held so much appeal. In point of fact, she wouldn’t mind being a clerk in the bookstore either, not that her schedule permitted it.
Neitherwould Papa.
Shestill hadn’t finished writing her current novel, and the manuscript was due next month. Her publisher had inquired about the story’s progress in the correspondence Araminta had received yesterday, along with her royalty payment—a missive strongly suggesting that she attend Westbrook’sBook CoffeeEmporium’s grand opening event.
Wrinklingher nose, she glanced upward, her attention following a chaffinch’s graceful path as the bird flitted to the apple tree on the other side of the parish lawn. Normally, the sweet little birds hopped around beneath the hedgerows.
Agentle breeze tickled the tree’s pinkish-white blossoms.
Asshe watched, the chaffinch took to wing again, this time landing atop the embattled parapet’s corner pinnacle.
Shesurveyed the timeworn, age-mellowed stones of the ancient parish. She loved this rustic, rubblestone church. Its existence, dating back centuries, was an enduring symbol of strength and constancy to the community, but especially to Araminta and her family.
SaintAndrew’s was also the only home she and her sisters had ever known. Papa had no desire to advance his career and move to a larger parish. He vowed he’d die preaching from SaintAndrew’s pulpit.
Aninvoluntary sigh escaped Araminta, causing her cheeks to puff out momentarily.
Perhapsit was just as well she had a few extra days to digest Darius’s compliment.
Your inner beauty, composed of goodness, kindness, and generosity, outshines Eudora as brightly as the sun does a candle.
Aramintawanted to believe his reverently spoken words meant more than they did—that his break with Eudora wasn’t simply because of that woman’s devious and avaricious nature. That perhaps he might have feelings for Araminta…
Shesecured a sheet on the line with a wooden pin.
Tonight, her family would sleep on spring-freshened-air-dried-sun-warmed sheets.
Cleansheets.
Oneof life’s often overlooked blessings.
Hadshe been of a different temperament, she might’ve resented being cast into the role of mother to her sisters, hostess for her father, and secret income supplementer. Instead, she accepted her lot and did so with a cheery attitude.
Whatgood would sulking, pouting, complaining, and being an all-around grumbletonian do? Besides, thanks to her late mother’s encouragement, she was a bona fide published author. Even though she wrote under a pen name.
Untilnow, Araminta rarely considered what would become of Papa and the twins should she marry. They relied on her so much. The point was moot as she’d never had a serious suitor—ClarenceButton’s wholly one-sided infatuation notwithstanding.
Butlove had awakened her soul—even if the man responsible for rousing her heart from dormancy would likely never know. Still, that didn’t prevent her from daydreaming when she should have been sleeping so she wouldn’t awaken exhausted the next day. That same foolhardy preoccupation might also be partially responsible for why she’d fallen behind on her novel.
Howmany times since the day she’d accidentally knocked him off his ladder had she lost herself in woolgathering about Darius?
She’dlost count.
Dareshe harbor a tiny hope that he had developed a budding regard for her as she had for him, or was he simply being kind or gentlemanly? Naturally, as a duke’s son, one would expect him to have impeccable manners.
Exceptexperience had taught her from occasional interactions with aristocrats in the past, the behaviors and manners of Le beau monde usually proved self-serving and condescending at best and downright uncivil at worst.
“Stop it, you gullible goose,” she muttered crossly to herself.
Justfor reinforcement, she added a couple more self-castigations because entertaining whimsical fantasies was plain stupid.
“Peagoose. Saddle-goose.”
“SaddleSirWaddlesby?” A manly chuckle filtered to her. “I’d like to see that.”
What?
Shepoked her head around the sheet she’d just finished hanging on the line.
Abasket covered by a tea towel clutched in one hand, Darius stood there, a wholly disarming smile curving his firm mouth upward.
“Good morning, Araminta.”
Headdressed her with the ease and confidence of someone who believed it was their right.
“Good morn to you as well.”
Whywas he here?
“I wasn’t expecting you.” She nearly rolled her eyes at stating the obvious. Lest he feel unwelcome, she rushed to add, “ButI’m glad you came.”
Oh, for pity’s sake, Araminta.
Nowshe sounded too eager.
SirWaddlesby waddled over and longingly eyed the black gloves Darius wore.
Ho-onk. Ho-onk.
Heoffered a muted greeting as he stretched his long neck toward the treasure he so adored.
“Oh, no, you don’t, you rascal.” Darius chuckled, the warm rumble resonating in his broad chest. “Just a moment, my good fellow. I have something for you.”
Heglanced upward, his gaze meshing with Araminta’s. “I think you will both be very pleased.”
Hewinked, and she forgot to breathe.
Lord, he was devastatingly handsome this morning, his dark blue eyes rivaling the spring twilight. He wore a cobalt coat, black trousers, and an azure and black paisley waistcoat. Though he claimed to be of the merchant class now that he operated Westbrook’sBook CoffeeEmporium, no one would ever mistake him for anything but quality.
Hisfacial features and bearing betrayed his noble breeding.
Yetnot once had he behaved like an arrogant ponce.
Glancingdownward, she hid a grimace.
Planningon spending the day completing chores, she’d slipped on one of her oldest, most worn frocks when she’d arisen at dawn. A gingham yellow floral affair, the gown’s once cheery colors had faded into obscure shades and shapes. And worst of all, she hadn’t confined her wild hair into a tidy knot but had secured the untamed curls at her nape with a ribbon.
Afterfishing around in his basket for a moment, Darius withdrew a glove. “WhenI wrote and asked my parents to send books for the library, I also asked them to collect gloves missing their mate.”
Stillwearing that distracting grin, he glanced at the basket. “They sent several. How a glove goes missing, I have no idea. Nevertheless, I should think there are enough gloves here to keep SirWaddlesby happy for a while and prevent him from stealing.”
Dariusdangled a lady’s blue glove for the goose whose black button eyes lit with joy. Issuing a gleeful hum, SirWaddlesby accepted the offering, then pelted through the rose and vegetable gardens with his treasure hanging from his mouth.
“Thank you,” Araminta said in an unfamiliar breathless tone. “SirWaddlesby is as happy as he’s ever been.”
“You’re welcome.” Huskiness deepened Darius’s voice.
Observingher beloved goose clicking and humming to himself in complete delight, she offered Darius a tremulous smile. If she hadn’t already fallen head over heels in love with DariusWestbrook, his thoughtful gift certainly clinched it.
Noone had ever done anything as kind and thoughtful for her, let alone her mischievous pet. She had no doubt that SirWaddlesby would follow Darius about like a devoted puppy now, which meant the bookstore might well have a regular feathered visitor.
“That was very thoughtful of you, Darius.”
Theystared at each other in silence for a few lengthy moments until she remembered where they were.
Glancingswiftly over her shoulder at the parish cottage, she said, “Papa and the girls aren’t in a state to receive visitors, but I made shortbread this morning and could offer you a cup of tea to go with it.” She pulled a face. “I know you prefer coffee, but I’m afraid we don’t have any. Papa’s a tea drinker to his core.”
“I’d like that very much.” The smoldering smile Darius gave her nearly unhinged her knees. “I’ve brought books for the twins and your father and seed cake, pasties…”
Noother parishioner had brought so much as a spoonful of honey to soothe sore throats, let alone the bounty that Darius carried.
Hegave the basket a rueful glance before shrugging. “Truthfully, I’m not exactly sure what Mr. Sherman put in here. I told him to fill it with food to tempt one’s appetite. I think there’s a custard too.”
“That was most considerate of you. I’m sure Papa and the girls will be thrilled.” After bending and retrieving the laundry basket, Araminta angled toward the kitchen entrance. “Shall we?”
“Certainly.” Darius fell into step beside her.
Silencestretched between them, poignant and titillating.
Withevery step, Araminta became more aware of his masculine charisma. It didn’t help that the muscles in his thighs bunched with each stride he took. She floundered for something to say to distract her from the far too virile man beside her.
“You needn’t have made a special trip just to deliver the gloves to SirWaddlesby. You could have waited until my next shift at the library.”
Excepthe’d also brought food for her ailing family too. Nincompoop.
“I could’ve waited, but I wanted to see you, Araminta. I’ve thought of little else these past few days.”
Therewas that husky tenor again, sending a wave of awareness cascading over her.
Shestumbled but recovered her balance.
Not, however, before he made a rough sound in his throat and cupped her bare elbow. Though he wore gloves, a streak of electricity zipped up her arm to her shoulder, across her back, and straight to her heart.
Behindthem, SirWaddlesby released muffled hums and honks, the glove still clenched in his beak.
Justoutside the open kitchen door, Araminta paused and, summoning her courage, met Darius’s penetrating gaze. Warmth and tenderness emanated from his eyes. But something else simmered in those blue depths.
Somethingmore potent.
“Why have you been thinking of me?” Goodness, there she went, sounding breathy again.
“Because, my darling,” his expression grew impossibly more tender, “I’ve fallen hopelessly, irreversibly, and completely in love with you.”
Aproper lady would’ve reacted with demureness and restraint, but what proper lady owned a pet goose and wrote romance novels?
Instead, Araminta dropped her laundry basket, almost hitting poor SirWaddlesby on the head.
Hegave a startled honk before sidestepping several paces.
Shethrew her arms around Darius’s neck and clung to him, not caring that anyone might come along and see her. “I didn’t dare hope you loved me too.”
Dariusencircled Araminta’s waist with his free arm and pulled her so near their thighs brushed. Then his lips were upon hers, and time stopped as sensation and desire encapsulated her.
Whoknew a tongue could cause such arousal?
Suchcompelling need?
Herblood sang in her veins as her heart thundered with untold happiness.
“I hope you intend to propose to my daughter, LordDarius.”
Papa!
Dariuslifted his head but didn’t release Araminta. He turned toward her father, still holding her close to his side. “Yes, sir. I do. With your blessing.”
Wearinga navy blue quilted banyan, Papa appeared to have recuperated overnight. His expression was kind but serious as he shifted his focus between Araminta and Darius.
“I needn’t ask if you love him, daughter.” Papa smiled, a hint of mirth in his eyes. “It’s been obvious as a pig wearing a tartan and a tiara that something has been distracting you.” He shifted his focus to Darius. “Or rather, someone.”
Unableto subdue her smile any more than she could the riot of curls on her head, Araminta nodded.
“I do love Darius, Papa.”
“Well, then. I suggest you come inside, my lord.” Her father stepped aside. “We can discuss a date, though I’d guess you’ll want to wed as soon as I have read the banns thrice.”
“Indeed, sir.” Darius dropped his loving gaze to her. “If you are agreeable, Araminta.”
Araminta’spulse stuttered.
Sosoon?
Whatwould become of Papa and the girls?
Whowould take care of them?
Herconcern must have registered on her face.
“I see your hesitation, daughter, and I can guess the cause.” Papa rubbed his chin. “I mean to hire a housekeeper and governess. My meeting in London went extremely well, and the Church has raised my annual compensation considerably.”
Asthe Church should have done over a decade ago.
Reliefwashed over Araminta. She slid her hand into Darius’s warm palm. “It won’t be too much with the grand opening? We could wait until afterward.”
Shedidn’t want to wait, but Darius had been planning the bookstore’s opening for months.
“Not at all.” Shaking his head, he touched her cheek. “My family is coming for the grand opening. Now they’ll have something else to celebrate while they are here. Trust me. They’ll be thrilled. We’ll have to postpone our honeymoon for a few months, though.”
“I don’t mind.” Certain she’d never been happier in her entire life, tears pooled in Araminta’s eyes. “Then three weeks it is.”