Page 21 of Wedded to the Forbidden Duke
No! What on Earth am I thinking?Of course, it would not be nice, Cecilia scolded herself.
Without a doubt, they only would have bickered further, as was their custom up until that point. Her head was just clouded from all of the fuss of the sudden wedding, she reminded herself, in addition to, of course, a heavy dose of homesickness.
Since there was nothing to be done about the former, she supposed she would have to settle for remedying the latter. “Thank you for the most excellent food, Mrs. Fitzclarence,” she said, rising from her seat and leaving her empty plate behind. “I should like to take a turn about the grounds now, if that is all right?”
The housekeeper looked at her with raised brow, as though she were slightly perplexed. She was a kindly-looking older woman, tall and spindly, with capable-looking hands and grey hair that neared white at the temples.
“Why on Earth would it not be all right, Your Grace?” she asked. “It is your estate now, after all. You may go wherever you like.”
Cecilia nodded.Of course. It was hard to adjust to, thinking of this enormous, unfamiliar terrain as her home. Truly, the grounds out back of the estate were even more splendid than she ever could have guessed when she saw the front of the castle upon her arrival.
The home she had known back in London had already been plenty spacious, but this was something else. Nearest the castle was a beautifully cultivated garden, full of a variety of multicolored blooms of all sorts.
Beyond that, the grounds went much further. The rolling green fields extended nearly as far as the eye could see. There were various hedges, as well, all meticulously groomed by a team of gardeners, to whom she waved as she went past. They waved to her as well, cheerfully greeting her asYour Grace. This surprised Cecilia. She had not realized that news of her arrival, and who she was, would travel so quickly to the duke’s workers.
At intermittent points across the grounds were other various smaller gardens. One of them seemed to consist entirely of tulips. Another, of roses. Cecilia paused at the rose garden and wandered further in. She leaned down at a particularly splendid yellow bloom and inhaled the sweet fragrant perfume.
“Lovely, are they not?”
Looking up, Cecilia was surprised to see an older gentleman there one who did not seem to be dressed as wait staff. Nor did she recognize him from her meeting with the staff the night prior. He was tall, wearing a formal suit and fine black hat, holding a small briefcase at his side. He wore spectacles, as well, behind which blinked bright blue eyes, with a kindly twinkle in them.
“Your Grace,” said the man, as he greeted her with a polite bow. “It is such a pleasure to finally meet you face to face.”
She returned his bow with a curtsy, trying to sound confident as she replied, “And I you. Lord…?”
He chuckled at that, removing the pipe from between his lips. “Oh, no such thing, child,” he said gently. “I am Mr. Ainsworth. The duke’s solicitor. And now yours, it should seem.” He smiled even more brightly. “I must offer you my sincerest congratulations on the wedding! I have long been hoping to see the young duke at the altar.”
Cecilia flushed, embarrassed that she had not known who he was before. If only the duke had thought to warn her they would be having visitors! At least the older man did not appear to have taken any offense at her not recognizing him. “Thank you, Mr. Ainsworth. You must forgive my disarray. The duke—I mean, Ian?—”
She swallowed. His name was unfamiliar on her tongue, and yet it sent electricity through her to say it. There was something intimate about it, even though the man himself was not anywhere nearby.
It made her wonder what it would be like to hear her name on his lips.
She shook her head, clearing her thoughts. “That is, His Grace did not alert me that we would be having guests,” she said finally, searching for the words. She tried to smooth over her tone into one of polite assuredness. If she were to be a duchess—which, indeed, she now was—she would have to be as assured as possible. She then continued, “Or if he did, it must have slipped my mind, with all of the…excitement, of the wedding.”
Mr. Ainsworth shook his head, waving off her apology. “No need for any sort of forgiveness, my child. Who would expect a visitor so soon after the wedding?” he said, chuckling with a friendly note in his voice. “I am only here briefly, at the duke’s request, to go over some legal matters. I am certain it will take no more than a day, and then I shall leave you two to honeymoon in piece.” He tilted his head and looked back at the castle, squinting. “You can’t have arrived more than a day ago, is that right?”
Cecilia nodded. “We only arrived last night, in fact. This is my first time seeing the grounds in daylight.”
“Ah, how delightful!” He looked out over the fields, and took a deep breath, as though taking in the fresh air and the greenery into his lungs. “Splendid, aren’t they?”
“Yes,” she said, following his gaze. “They really are remarkable.” It was true. Even if she lived here the rest of her life—which she very likely would—Cecilia very much doubted that she would ever truly get used to that view. “I cannot imagine a more beautiful view.”
“They were wonderful before, of course, but I am sure everyone finds them much improved by your being here, I must say.”
Cecilia looked back at him, surprised. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Oh, the staff is lovely, of course, and Mrs. Fitzclarence runs a tight ship. But it has not been easy for the duke, living in that big house ever since the death of his mother and father, you know. I can only imagine how grateful he is—how grateful we all are—that you are here. That he has some family. Most important thing in the world, family. Makes all the difference between a house and a home.”
“That it does,” Cecilia agreed, drifting off into thought.
Her heart half ached at the thought of her mother, for Zachary. And, of course, the thought of Nancy. She made a note to invite her friend to visit later in the week.
The thought of her own family reminded her of the other part of what Mr. Ainsworth had said—about the duke’s parents. Of course, she had known that he was an orphan. Perhaps Zachary had mentioned it at some point; and, in any case, it became clear, when everyone who came to celebrate the wedding was the duke’s friends and distant relatives, with no parents or siblings in sight.
“How recently did the duke’s parents pass away?”
“Years ago. He was old enough to remember them, which, of course, meant that he was old enough to feel the loss.” He seemed to notice the uncertainty on her face, because he continued reassuringly, “Oh, I would not take offense that he has not spoken of it to you, Your Grace. I doubt he wanted to sour the early days of young love with all that unpleasant business.”
