Chapter Three
Tittleford Hall
Near Chiddingfold
Surrey, England
Angelica stood at one of the windows of the duchess suite and took a quick peek outside where the back lawn gave way to gently rolling hills.
To the left was a heavily wooded area that went on for miles and was where the dower house stood.
To the right were farmlands and tenant cottages.
Somewhere in the middle were a few ponds and streams that connected both sides of the land.
As much as she despised her husband, she adored his country estate.
“Will there be anything else, Your Grace?”
The sound of her maid’s voice jarred Angelica from her thoughts.
She turned to address the maid who’d been with her for at least ten years.
“No, thank you, Dorcas. I’m perfectly happy with the day dress you’ve picked out for me.
” As she spoke, she smoothed her hands down the front of said frock.
“The color is lovely.” Made of the finest lawn and dyed a robin’s egg blue color, it made her feel incredible, and she rather thought it gave her skin and eyes life. “I think I’ll go on a walk for a bit.”
“That will do you a world of good, I think,” Dorcas said with a nod. Somewhere around middle age—which only meant she was probably several years older than Angelica—she had become a good friend and occasional confidante during her tenure. “And you must make the best of a lovely day in England.”
“Any day that contains sunshine is a good one.” Anxious to leave the house, Angelica accepted a pair of kid gloves from her maid. “I refuse to wear a bonnet today. I am on private property and not in society.”
“I don’t blame you.” Dorcas offered a slight smile. “Enjoy your time.”
“I will.” Of course, what the maid didn’t say was “enjoy your time away from the duke,” for everyone knew how he was.
Though Tittleford had come down to Surrey yesterday with her and Mr. Marsden, he’d immediately left this morning to meet with various contacts around Surrey.
After that, he intended to go back to London for more business.
Some of it included his presence in the House of Lords for a rushed debate in parliament.
From how he talked, he wouldn’t arrive back at the manor house for at least two weeks.
And that meant she’d basically been left to her own devices. She was almost giddy, drunk even, on the unexpected freedom.
As soon as she reached the out of doors, Angelica lifted her face to the sun and enjoyed the warmth on her face for a few moments. How glorious it was to be away from London and the filth therein. The air here was clear, and the sun had the power to heal.
Over the course of the next hour, she wandered the acreage, pausing every now and again to listen to the birds or to watch deer scamper over the lawn to dart into the woods. What must it be like to roam wherever one wanted? To run away, cross into neighboring territory, and never look back?
She’d always adored the property. It was a lovely reprieve and had perhaps made living with the duke more palatable over the years.
Her children had loved to run amok over the area without rules or structure.
She hoped her son, when it was his time to take the title, would continue to enjoy the property because it was beautiful and relaxing.
One of her favorite places on the whole estate was the dower house—Lavender Cottage.
Her mother-in-law used it while she was alive since she didn’t enjoy London, and Angelica didn’t blame her.
As she came up the path—overgrown now—that led to the cottage’s front door, she marveled at how immersive the residence was and how tucked away into nature it was.
Truth be told, she looked forward to spending time here once her son took the title.
In fact, she had plans to reside in the manor for a long while once Tittleford returned to London, and now that she was twenty years into her marriage, it was time.
She despised her husband, and he her, so why couldn’t she move in here permanently?
There was something cozy and hopeful about the prospect of keeping her own house, of being able to live by herself, do what she wanted, whenever she wanted.
It sounded like heaven and quite frankly, she couldn’t wait.
The duke could have the townhouse and London.
She cared not. She just wanted peace and to live her life without fear and pain.
Doing that in Surrey beckoned, and she wished to do it well away from the judging eyes of polite society.
Would the duke be overcome with anger when she made the announcement at the end of the month? Most likely, but she’d survived such a storm before; she could do it again, especially when the parting meant she could live her life in relative freedom.
As she stared at the blue-painted door, Angelica frowned.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t thought to procure the key from the housekeeper at the manor so she couldn’t go into the dower house and have a look around.
But that was something to anticipate on another outing.
There was a certain comfort in that. Instead, she followed a flagstone path around to the back of the dower house, and from there, she made her way into the wooded orchard behind the house.
Too bad she hadn’t thought to bring a book or even a picnic luncheon.
It wasn’t long before she was enveloped in a veritable bower of blossoms, for the apple, pear, and plum trees were all in the process of flowering.
Depending on each tree and type of fruit, from late July through October there would be plenty for harvesting.
Those times were some of her favorites, and if it were up to her, she’d spend her days in the orchards, helping to pick the fruit as well as eat it along the way.
But of course, a duchess should never lower herself to do the work like tenants or farmers, people who held positions far below her.
Or, at least that was what the duke always told her.
Many years, he’d forbidden her to go anywhere near the orchards, but this year?
Oh, this year she would do what she pleased, his ire be damned.
It’s time to finally start living my life.
When someone came toward her from the other side of the orchard, she froze and watched their approach with distrust. Not that she was afraid of strangers. It was more that she was frightened of how many spies her husband might have set up around the property.
Eventually, she recognized the form and figure of Mr. Marsden, and she relaxed by increments. By the time he reached her location, her heartbeat skipped through her veins, and she was possessed of a mild bit of heat that had nothing to do with the warm spring day.
“Mr. Marsden. How surprising to see you.” And it was, not that she was put out by that. Any day she was able to be in his company was a good one.
“It was a lovely afternoon before, but now it’s exceptional,” he said with a grin that reached his eyes. The delicate skin framing them crinkled in a way that made him approachable and adorable. Two things her husband never portrayed.
Heat went through her cheeks, which was surprising at her age.
“Do stop.” Seeing him away from the manor house and far from prying eyes was indeed a boon.
Perhaps they could finally speak freely.
Not about the feelings that had simmered between them for years, but other things such as their feelings regarding poetry or literature or whatever came to mind.
“Such compliments should be reserved for ladies you have an interest in.”
He waggled his light-brown eyebrows. “You are a lady I have an interest in.”
More heat jumped into her cheeks and seeped into her chest. “I’m afraid I haven’t a response to that.” Because she could, Angelica took refuge in studying him at her leisure.
His lean form was pleasing to the eye, and his well-tailored clothing only enhanced that.
Buff-colored breeches drew attention to muscled thighs, maintained, no doubt, by riding.
Slightly broad shoulders were enhanced by the sapphire jacket of superfine that hugged his body.
The plain waistcoat of brown velvet hinted at a flat abdomen.
She would much rather gaze upon him than the duke, who was showing his age rapidly with each year that passed.
But it was Mr. Marsden’s sense of humor and the amusement that sparkled in his lake-blue eyes that captured her attention the most.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever been able to render you speechless before, Your Grace,” he said as a grin curved his sensual lips.
Good heavens, what would a kiss from him feel like? Thrusting the inappropriate thought away, Angelica gave in to a rare chuckle. It seemed as if it had been an age since she’d done that, or felt any sort of mirth.
“I suppose I was merely surprised to be interrupted on my walk. They are usually solitary rambles.”
“Ah. More’s the pity, for I was about to ask if you wished for company.”
One of her eyebrows rose in surprise. It was certainly tempting. With a surreptitious glance about the area to make certain they were alone, and after seeing nothing but trees, she gave him a slow nod. “I would enjoy that.”
“So would I.” He offered her his arm, and when she tentatively put her gloved hand through his crooked elbow, he started them off. They walked in companionable silence until he broke it with pleasantries. “How have you been keeping yourself, Your Grace?”
“Well enough, but please, call me Angelica. We have known each other for years; there is no need for formality and coldness between us.” Additionally, she yearned to hear her given name in his baritone.
“Very well… Angelica.” Such warmth reflected in his eyes that she burned from it. “Where you named after the herb?”
“I’m not certain.”