Page 40 of Three Rules to Wed a Duke

“I would love that,” she answered honestly, smiling at him.

Anthony gave her the briefest flash of a smile in return, then he looked away shyly. It was almost heartbreaking to see a man of such imposing height and devastatingly handsome features still seem to be at a loss around people, especially the one person on earth who could never turn her back on him.

In the eyes of the Crown and the Lord, I am practically his property, yet he seems to fear that I will cause him harm, Frances thought, a veil of sadness coming over her. She pushed it aside and vowed that she would show him he was safe with her.

Frances took Anthony’s elbow, resting her touch there gently as he looked down at her hand. He seemed to be examining it somehow, as though trying to understand why she would take hold of him this way. Soon enough, he bent his arm and provided her with a safe stronghold to rest her hand, and together they headed towards the terrace doors where she’d just come in.

“I hope you’ve enjoyed your explorations so far,” he said, as though actually trying to begin a conversation.

“I have indeed. Vickers showed me around a little, and Mrs. Barrett comes running to help me whenever I get lost, of course.”

Anthony actually laughed softly, a faint sound that was so quick Frances wasn’t sure she’d even heard him correctly. It was thrilling to know that she could say things that amused him. “I would love to know more about the house, though.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, his words a little too sharp.

“I only mean that history,” Frances clarified quickly, noting his unusual reaction to such an innocent statement.

“Oh. Of course,” Anthony answered. “It was built under the direction of the third Duke of Preston, Thomas Bradburge. He had no sons, and his title and estates went to his nephew, William Hughes. The title has remained with William’s direct descendants ever since.”

“For twelve more generations? That is quite an accomplishment,” Frances replied, but Anthony only nodded.

I see, she thought with a faint and brief flash of disappointment.It turns out that someone is in need of an heir so as to not dissolved his family’s legacy. I would have liked for him to be more forthcoming about his reasons for marriage, but which gentleman doesn’t think only of his legacy when choosing a wife?

“Our family has long kept this house as the London residence, though there is the grand estate to the west where our family hails from, and then a modest property on the seaside in the north for escaping the heat of summer.”

“How interesting. What are those places like?” she asked politely, glad to hear him speak so much.

“I don’t know. I’ve never visited them.”

“Ever?” she asked, stopping to look at him. “In all your life, you’ve never ventured to these other homes?”

“No. I’ve kept to London all this time.”

“But don’t you wish to see them?”

“I don’t think I would care for it. They’re very far away, and all of my belongings are here,” he said as they continued walking.

Frances laughed at his joke, but when she glanced over at him once more, she saw that he was not making a jest. She cleared her throat and kept her reply to herself, content to simply return to talk of the house.

When they reached the terrace, Anthony led Frances across the open marble portion that overlooked the grounds below. The gardens, clearly once majestic and a source of pride to the house, were sadly overgrown and in desperate need of care. The remnants of a small fishpond ringed with stones containedmurky green water that hinted at something lurking beneath the surface. Grass had grown up through the pebbles that formed the winding path, and the scraggly shrubs contained the last determined blooms that simply refused to die.

“I fear it is not very enticing,” Anthony finally said, staring down at the property.

“On the contrary, I think it’s rather inviting for the right sort of person. However, it must be someone who will be able to hear it calling out for help and comes to its rescue,” Frances said playfully.

Anthony laughed for the second time, and Frances was stunned by how it did her heart good to hear it. She shivered with happiness at how he seemed to be able to speak more openly, to show more concern for her feelings.

Mrs. Barrett has cautioned me that this is difficult for him, so I shall not be ungrateful for whatever small measures he may take!she thought as they continued to look out over the forlorn property.

“Perhaps one of the servants you intend to employ knows something about gardening,” Frances suggested hopefully. “I still don’t know the names of those who’ve been dismissed, but if any of them have any skill with the grounds, that might be a good place to begin.”

“That’s very smart,” Anthony answered quickly, and Frances was glad to hear that he didn’t seem surprised by it.

Frances turned and approached one of the two sets of wide stone steps that led down to the gardens, wondering if Anthony would choose to follow. She trailed her hand along the balustrade as she went, purposely taking her time and looking around. The sun felt warm on her back, but the whisper of Anthony’s gaze following her positively burned.

When Frances reached the lowest step, she stopped to look around. From high up, the entire garden seemed to be longing for repair, but down here where the plants and stones were near, there was an air of promise to the place that did wonders for her spirits. Up close, every flowering bush and waving frond of too-tall grass appeared almost whimsical rather than derelict.

“I don’t know that I’ve spent much time out here,” Anthony confessed as he approached. “Now I’m beginning to remember why.”

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