All the Duke I Need by Caroline Linden

Author:Caroline Linden
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2022-04-26T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Philippa had been so distracted by the sight of Mr. Montclair with his hair loose, it took her a few minutes to realize everyone else had left.

“They forgot us,” she said in surprise, and began to laugh.

Mr. Montclair was tying back his hair with a grim expression, but now his shoulders eased. “They didn’t forget me. I walked.”

She gasped, and laughed harder, flinging one hand to her forehead dramatically. “Only me, then! Oh, the indignity!”

“If you swoon from it, I would be forced to pour a bucket of water on your head to revive you.”

Still laughing, she held up both hands. “Thank you, no! I shall also walk home.”

Mr. Montclair grinned and they set out.

It was barely two miles, not a long walk. The duchess would cluck in dismay, but Philippa wasn’t upset at all—because of the man ambling beside her.

There was really no denying it anymore. All her attempts to repay his sly winks and teasing comments in kind had only made things worse. Now instead of just finding him infuriatingly attractive, she liked him far more than she should.

She could hardly believe she’d told him all that about Papa and Ammi and Mama. Even if she told herself it was because she had no one else to tell about them, she knew it was also because it felt right—safe, somehow—to tell him. He didn’t laugh or shrug in disinterest. He offered his hand in comfort and listened. Sitting out there on that rock with his hand warm around hers, she had opened her heart and allowed herself to feel all the love and grief and even anger inside her. And he didn’t tell her she was wrong to feel any of it.

He was so kind with the duke. He’d begun to follow her advice regarding the duchess. Everyone on the estate admired and liked him, from Mr. Amis to Gerry and Jilly Smith to the maids in the laundry. And he was bringing Carlyle into a state of polished good repair that Philippa had never seen. How had she not noticed the leaks in the roof or the buckling paving stones in the courtyard? He had and he had seen them fixed.

He was exactly what Carlyle needed. And perhaps what Philippa needed, despite what the duchess thought.

“We forgot to count the fish and settle our wager,” she said.

He gave a soft tsk. “Alas. I shall graciously call it a draw.”

“A draw!”

“By the time we reach the castle, the entire catch will have been jumbled into one large basket and cleaned for dinner. There’s no way to settle it now.”

“A gentleman would concede,” she pointed out.

He laughed. “Would a lady wager in the first place?”

“I’m not a lady.”

Another impertinent wink. “Well, I’m not a gentleman.”

She was trying not to laugh. “I’ll never trust your word again, sir. You’re too slippery by half.”

“What did we wager in the first place?” He scratched his jaw. “Must not have been very tempting.”

“A cherry tart.” She knew he liked them very much.

“No, did we really?” He heaved a sigh.

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