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.And gathering his thoughts had become a desire so strong, not even cool rainy weather would keep him indoors.Abigail’s refusal of Lord Seabright annoyed him.The man was titled, wealthy, assured Drake he’d give up his mistress when he married, and was a gentleman.What in heaven’s name would make his sister turn up her nose at the man’s offer?Seabright was a good, solid, dependable man.And Drake had a niggling of fear that those qualities were precisely why Abigail spurned him.Not for her was solid and dependable; the girl was looking for love.Love! Look what love had done to Marion.Not only did he have four sisters to marry off, he had another who wouldn’t even leave her room.A crushing sense of failure descended on him as he turned right and headed further afield.Small animals foraged for a meal before scurrying back to the warmth of their snug homes.Early summer flowers wilted under the weight of Mother Nature’s modest shower.Drake barely noticed these displays as he continued to muse on his responsibilities and how lacking he was in filling his father’s shoes.A further concern was his search for a bride.Lady Daphne still presented the best candidate.Beside her grace and charm, she would be a good role model for his sisters to see how a true lady behaved.And she would also provide much needed guidance on how a young woman performed her duty to accept her place in life—marrying well and producing heirs.He could not imagine Lady Daphne holding out for something as foolish as a love match.He didn’t want to complicate his life with a woman who wanted love.He needed someone to help him take over the responsibilities of the house, his life, and most of all, his sisters.Mother was entirely too soft when it came to the girls.She only encouraged them in this silly notion of waiting for the right man.Indeed, as if some dunderhead would ride up on his horse and sweep his lady away to live happily ever after.His mother had read far too many fairytales to his sisters.It was time for them to grow up and away from such ideas and do what was expected of women of their station.A movement to the left caught his attention.A slight figure hunched over in the garden, scratching in the dirt.Why in heaven’s name would the gardeners be out in this weather, when they could be working in the greenhouse or orangery? He stepped off the path to admonish the man.So intent was the gardener in his work he never heard Drake’s approach.Leaning over the bent figure, Drake tapped the man on his shoulder.“Say, it would be a better idea to work indoors today.”The man started at Drake’s touch and fell face-first into the mud.“Oh, sorry there old chap, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Drake grabbed the man’s arm and pulled him up, sputtering and spitting clumps of dirt and leaves from his mouth.The gardener turned toward him and Drake’s eyes grew wide.“Miss Clayton!”Chapter Nine“Yes, I’m afraid so.” Penelope wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, merely smearing the mud across her face.Her spectacles dripped muddy water, small brown drops landing in her lap.Her hair was plastered to her head since the brim of her bonnet hadn’t protected a good portion of her hair from the rain.She whipped her spectacles off and then blinked at him, water droplets clinging to her eyelashes.He reached for her hand to help her to her feet.“Madam, you should not be out here in this weather, doing whatever it is you do.” He pointed toward the area she’d been digging in.“I don’t mind the rain.It’s very soothing, and quiet.”Perhaps the girl had been driven from the house for the same reason he now found himself facing her muddy countenance.She didn’t appear to be the type that wanted to flit about discussing sleeve lengths and hem ruffles.And this was the second time he’d caused her a mishap.He’d never been clumsy in his life until Penelope entered it.“It appears the rain has now strengthened, and since I’ve managed to get you all muddied up, perhaps I can escort you back to the house?”“I don’t think we’re going to make it,” Penelope remarked just as the skies opened up and a deluge poured down on them, blocking out any response he would make.Drake grabbed Penelope’s arm and headed them both to the orangery.Hurrying to get out of the downpour, he dragged her over the garden path, past the rose garden, and eventually to the structure.He opened the glass door of the rounded brick and stucco building, and escorted her through.…Water dripped from Penelope’s bonnet, to slither down her back in cold rivulets.Drake immediately left her side and strode to the small stove in the corner of the room.He shoved large pieces of wood into the belly of the stove and grabbed a flint from a shelf alongside the warmer.He lit a few pieces of the kindling he’d shoved underneath the wood.Penelope stood the entire time, shivering, too cold to move.“Take your cape and bonnet off before you catch a chill.”“T-t-too l-l-late, I’m af-f-fraid.” Her mouth stiff from the cold, she barely got the words out.Who would have thought a little bit of rain, in the summertime, no less, would chill her this way?Drake returned to her side, and helped her off with her light summer cape, while she untied the sopping ribbons of her bonnet with stiff fingers.Her gown was moderately dry, but she still felt the cold all the way to her bones.She also sensed the mud left on her face was now drying into a mask.She must look a fright.“Is there water anywhere about? I would like to wash the dirt off.”“Yes, of course.” Drake indicated a bucket sitting on a large gardener’s table against one wall, underneath a huge window.Streams of water washed down the glass as the rain continued to pound against the building.Penelope walked with stiff legs, the bottom half of her wet skirts slapping noisily against her as she moved.She placed her shaking hands into the bucket, scooped out water, and splashed it on her face.“Here, let me.” Drake dipped his handkerchief into the water and wiped her cheeks, returning the cloth to the water a few times before he leaned back and studied her.He held her chin with warm, strong fingers as he smoothed the dirt away.Close up like this, she didn’t need her spectacles to confirm that the Duke of Manchester was, indeed, a most handsome man.His hazel eyes had specks of brown dotted throughout.His strong jaw was bisected by a deep dimple, making her wonder if it was painful to shave that area.Damp strands of brown and gold hair dipped forward, brushing his broad forehead.Busy with his work, he didn’t notice her studying his features.Thank goodness.She’d made a fool of herself with the man oftentimes enough without adding “gawking” to the list.“All gone.And I do apologize again for startling you.” His slow easy smile caused her heart to do a double thump before it settled into a plain rapid cadence.“That’s quite all r-r-right, Your G-g-grace.I have enough of my own accidents that I can forgive anyone els-s-se.”“Here now, you’re still shivering.Come over to the stove and warm yourself.” Drake ushered her back to the stove, and then drew up a small bench.“Have a seat.You’ll be warm in no time.”Clutching her spectacles to her chest, she took a place in front of the fire and leaned forward, sighing as the warmth flooded her body.The seductive scent of oranges filled the air, bringing to mind faraway places.Exotic destinations that she hoped to visit one day.“May I be so bold as to suggest you remove your shoes and stockings? I’m sure you would warm up faster without them.”“I don’t know [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]