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Authors: Christie Kelley

BOOK: Bewitching the Duke
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There was nothing she could do now. Tears blurred her sight as she staggered to the staircase.
Slowly, she walked down the stairs. Randall’s face was pale as she passed him.
“I’m so sorry, Miss White,” he whispered with a quick glance up the stairs.
“Thank you, Randall.”
“It’s gotten dark, do you want me to have a footman escort you home?”
She knew the estate was safe for her to walk even at night. Every one of the tenants was her friend. “No, I shall be fine.”
She glanced back up the steps to see the duke staring at her.
“At least take a lantern, miss,” Randall said so quietly the duke wouldn’t hear.
“No, thank you, Randall,” she replied loudly. She glanced up at the duke, who stood at the railing glaring at her. “I know my way around this estate better than anyone . . . even the duke.”
“When you are duke, every tenant is your responsibility.”
The sound of his father’s voice echoed in his ears. Colin knew she’d aimed her barb directly at him for being gone so long. She dared to imply that she knew the land better than he did. He’d raced over the countryside as a child. He knew the dips and peaks in the land, where the rabbit holes were and the fox dens.
Staring at the closed door, he realized that she had walked out the door without a candle or escort. “Randall, follow her home.”
“She told me not to, Your Grace.” Randall looked down at the marble floor.
The man was afraid of the woman.
Dammit.
He didn’t want to follow her but it was his duty. He winced slightly as he walked down the steps.
“Open the door, Randall,” he demanded.
“You’re going out, sir?”
“Yes. You should have insisted she take a footman with her,” Colin chided. “There are wild animals out there.” Not to mention tenants he didn’t even know any longer. Any one of them might try to harm her.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace. It will never happen again.”
Colin breathed in the fragrant June air. He could just make out her yellow muslin as she walked along the tree line. Foolish woman didn’t know enough to stay away from the trees where the animals might be hiding.
Not wanting to get into another argument with her, he trailed behind her. The full moon cast a white light on her golden hair. Her full hips swayed under her skirts suddenly spreading lurid thoughts into his head. With her fire, he could only imagine what she would be like in bed. Lusty. Wanton.
Christ. What the bloody hell was wrong with him? He didn’t desire the termagant. He wanted her off his property. He wanted her and the memories she brought gone.
Or did he just want the temptation she wrought removed?
“I know you’re back there but I do wonder why.”
“Until you leave my property, you are my responsibility.”
“No, I am no one’s care. I am nothing, just a poor woman with no home. I am certainly not your burden.”
Guilt sliced into him, but he pushed the feeling down. He walked a few steps behind her as the scent of lavender filled the air. He knew it came from her. The scent had swirled around him during his rage in the hall. She was as she’d said, just a poor woman and now he was taking her home away from her.
But he would not give in to the guilt. He’d had enough regrets for his actions over the past eight years. “I will speak with the Earl of Hartsfield. He seems to have great respect for his wise women. I am certain he would love to have another.”
“Stupid man,” she mumbled under her breath.
“Excuse me?”
“Hartsfield already has two wise women. Why would he need another?”
Colin went silent for a moment. “At least he will take you in.”
“Oh, then it must be for the best. After all, one of my ancestors has taken care of this estate and your family for centuries but you obviously don’t need one.”
He blew out a breath. “There is more to this than that.”
She turned around sharply, almost running into him. “And what exactly is it?”
How could he begin to explain his reasoning when he didn’t know himself? It was simpler to give the answer she would assume. “I cannot have the reminder here.”
“Reminder of what?”
“Why my wife and son died,” he muttered, staring off into the forest. “I need you to leave so I don’t have to relive it every day that I’m here.”
“Until you realize there was nothing,” she paused briefly, “my mother could have done, you will never heal. It was God’s will. I see it all the time. People die before they should and there is nothing I can do about it. God knows I wish I could.”
God’s will.
How many people had tried to tell him that? But he knew it wasn’t God’s will. It had not been God who insisted Mary deliver at the estate. He’d wanted his heir born at the estate just as he’d been born here. He was the reason Mary died that day. She’d wanted to remain in London near her mother for the birth. But he’d insisted that his heir would be born at the ducal estate. Just as all the previous dukes had been born here.
Miss White turned back around and headed for her cottage. “Good night, Your Grace.”
“Good night, Miss White.”
Once he saw that she was inside and a candle flickered, he headed back to the estate . . . alone with his guilt.
 
 
Two days had passed with no sign of Miss White. Not that he’d had time to even think about her with the workers arriving daily to get the house in order for the wedding. But today, he left instructions for the foreman and then departed for a ride.
He flicked the reins of his gelding and headed toward her cottage. As he approached, he saw nothing to indicate she was in residence. Perhaps she had already found accommodations elsewhere. He slowly jumped down and walked to her window. Peering in, he noticed a bowl on the table and the embers in the fireplace. It appeared she’d made no effort to start packing her things.
He would have to speak with her again and insist she make arrangements. Or perhaps it was time to do that for her.
He climbed back on Zeus and headed toward Hart’s lands. As he rode, he nodded to several tenants, only to have them turn their backs at him. What was that about? He could only guess that they were displeased that he hadn’t visited yet. But with the workers arriving daily, he had to make certain they knew what needed to be done. Tomorrow, he would make the effort to greet his tenants.
Urging Zeus to a run, he flew across the countryside. He had missed getting a good ride every morning. Finally, he slowed his horse to stop when he reached Hart’s stables. He climbed down and handed the reins to a lad.
“Give him a good rubdown, boy,” Colin said and tossed him a coin.
“Thank you, sir.”
“That’s Yer Grace,” an older man said and whacked the boy on the backside of the head.
Colin shook his head as he walked toward the door.
“Yes?” a butler said after opening the door.
Colin realized that he must have been gone far too long if his friend’s butler didn’t recognize him. “I’m here to see the earl.”
The butler waited for a card.
“I don’t have a card, my good man. I am Northrop.”
The butler’s blue eyes widened. “Excuse me, Your Grace. Come right in.”
Colin followed the man down the gallery filled with family portraits until they reached Hart’s study.
Hart looked up with an easy smile. “To what do I owe this honor, North?”
“I need to speak with you in private.”
“Of course.” Hart walked toward the door. “Do you want coffee? I just asked them to bring me some.”
“Yes, thank you.”
Hart called for a servant to fetch them coffee and two cups. The servant returned with remarkable speed and placed the tray on a table near the window. Hart poured two cups and then handed one to him. Colin took the drink and sipped it slowly. Warmth spread throughout his body as he drank the slightly bitter brew.
“How is the refurbishing coming along?”
“Slow. It might be hard to have everything ready before the wedding.”
Hart smiled. “Kate won’t mind. She is a very even-tempered young woman.”
Her temperament was one of her finest attributes. She would make a wonderful wife. In that sense, she reminded him of Mary.
“Now, what really brings you here?” Hart asked as he placed his cup down on the table next to him. “I doubt you came all this way to chat about your house.”
“I’m wondering if you can do me a favor.”
“Of course, name it.”
“Do you have space on the estate for another tenant?”
Hart eyed him suspiciously. “I do. Are you looking to keep a mistress here?”
“God, no. I just want Miss White off my land.”
Hart shook his head. “Don’t do that, North. You are begging for trouble if you do.”
“I am sick to death of everyone telling me how much these women do for us. I want her off my estate.” Colin finished the rest of his coffee and then placed the cup on Hart’s desk. “Will you take her or not?”
“Of course. I’m sure Miss Featherstone will be happy for the company. And Mrs. Featherstone will appreciate the help.”
“Exactly.” And Colin was pleased that he had this mess finally settled. “I shall tell her to be packed by Friday.”
“Shall I send a man for her?”
“No, one of my men will bring her and her things over.” Colin stood and nodded. “Thank you.”
Hart shook his head. “I still believe you are making a mistake, North. Miss White has done nothing but good for your tenants.”
“Not for me,” he muttered.
“They will hate you for forcing their wise woman to leave. Most of them believe these women keep them safe from harm and the land bountiful.”
“Then they are fools,” Colin remarked.
“Very well, anyone else I can take off your hands? A good footman or two, maybe?”
Colin smiled. “Highly unlikely you would want any of my elderly servants. Just take the wise woman.”
“As you wish.”
With that settled, he could get on with his life. Already, he felt as if a weight had been lifted off his chest. Now, with Miss White gone, he could concentrate on the wedding.
 
 
Selina felt the bulging belly of Susan Wells and attempted not to frown. The baby was due any day but Selina hadn’t felt a movement in the past few minutes. “Has the baby been moving a lot?”
“Not as much this week but I’m not sure there’s anywhere to go.”
Selina smiled at the young woman. First babies were always the hardest and sometimes they didn’t cooperate. “Well, perhaps he is just sleeping for me today.”
God, she hoped that was all it was, but she didn’t have a good feeling. She hadn’t lost a baby in over two years. There was nothing worse . . . except losing the mother too. “I will stop by tomorrow and see if we can’t wake him up.”
“Probably as soon as you leave, he’ll be kickin’ up a storm,” Susan said with a laugh.
She prayed Susan was right. If there was still no movement by tomorrow, she might have to brace Susan for the worst. A knot tightened in her belly. She packed up her things, said her good-byes, and walked home.
She’d spent the past two days trying to figure out what she would do if the duke upheld his threat to make her leave. Mia’s small home was full with her mother living there too. Tia’s cottage on Viscount Middleton’s land was smaller than Selina’s home.
A deepening sadness invaded her mind. She didn’t want to leave the tenants who needed her. And with her worries about Susan, Selina felt as if she couldn’t leave the poor woman stranded. It might take Mia two hours to get here, longer at night. Anything might happen to Susan and the baby by then.
As she arrived home, Mrs. Roberts sat on the bench in front of the cottage window. “Mrs. Roberts, is everything all right?”
“Yes, my dear. I came by with some fruit tarts to thank you for the herbs you sent.” Mrs. Roberts hoisted her sturdy frame out of the bench and walked toward Selina.
“Thank you. Would you care for some tea?”
“Oh, I would at that. I’ve been up since dawn, baking for all the workers the duke has here. It’s nice to get away for some peace. They are a noisy bunch of men.”
Selina smiled and opened the door for her. “At least the house is finally being put into order.”
“True.” Mrs. Roberts set the tarts on the table and started fussing with the fire. “I’ll get the fire started while you fetch the water.”
Selina kept several jugs of water on hand. She reached for one and poured the water into a pan. Once Mrs. Roberts had the fire started, they waited for the water to boil. Selina readied the tea and pulled out plates for the tarts.
“You will have one, won’t you?” she asked Mrs. Roberts.
“I shouldn’t . . . but maybe just a small one.”
Selina poured the tea and then sat down at the small table. “How is everyone at the house?”
Mrs. Roberts looked down at her tart. “Everyone is horrified by the duke’s actions, my dear. We all believe he may have lost his mind.”
“He is the duke and can do as he likes,” she replied and then took a bite of the flaky crust. “This is wonderful.”
“Thank you.” Mrs. Roberts sipped her tea. “We do not understand why His Grace would want you gone. Your kind has been here forever.”
Her kind.
She was nothing more than a woman with some knowledge of herbs and healing. Yet the tenants thought her some kind of magical being who could heal every illness. “He is a modern man with modern notions.”

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