Page 10 of Daisy and the Duke
“And abroad,” he noted. “The war.”
That must have been when he got hurt, she supposed, and thus discharged.
“Are you happy to be back home?” she asked.
“If this is home. Didn’t think I’d like it here,” he said at last, his tone musing. “But the outlook is improving.”
The last line was unmistakably flirtatious, and Daisy replied, with uncharacteristic punch, “Don’t expect that every ride will include a local resident.”
He laughed, the sound rumbling in his chest. “I hope not. Now that I’ve got you, I don’t need any others to distract me.”
Daisy turned her head, surprised at the words. “Got me?”
His gaze met hers. “Just for two miles. I’m not going to kidnap you.”
“Good, for you’d get no ransom.”
The corner of his mouth quirked. “You have a quick tongue.”
As his gaze dropped to her lips, Daisy was conscious of a desire to dart herquick tonguealong her lips, moistening them in anticipation of a kiss.
He lowered his head a fraction, and her breath caught.He could kiss me, she realized with equal parts delight and panic.
Just then, Stormer whinnied and sidestepped. Brooks twitched the reins and focused on the road ahead. The moment was broken. And of course, he’d not been about to kiss her. How absurd, to think it.
Daisy allowed Mr. Brooks to take her all the way home. She told herself that it was the polite thing to do—and deeper down, she knew that she was delighting in Mr. Brooks’s nearness, in the novelty of having a man pay attention to her, plain old Daisy, even for a short while.
Brooks asked questions about the countryside and village and the people living hereabouts. Daisy told him as much as she could fit in during the journey.
“You’re a treasure trove, Miss Merriot. You said you lived here your whole life?”
“Other than the years I went to school, yes. This little corner of the world is my home, though. I could never leave it. I think you’ll come to appreciate it, Mr. Brooks, though it is vastly different than London.”
Outside the gates of Rutherford Grange, she half turned and said, “I think, sir, that it would be best if I returned on my own two feet. To avoid…any misunderstandings.”
“Very wise.” He dismounted and helped her down, both hands lingering at her waist.
Daisy felt her cheeks burning. “Thank you.”
“Don’t forget your mushrooms.”
She had in fact completely forgotten the mushrooms, but managed to rescue the basket before Stormer could raid it.
Mr. Brooks walked with her down the drive, saying that he could not escort her halfway. “That’s nearly the same as not doing it at all. I’ll let you go when the house is in view.”
Just then, they came into view of Rutherford Grange itself. Daisy glanced at the main house, conscious of how dismal it looked, how much it needed repair and attention. She was normally able to ignore the flaws, her view colored by love and nostalgia.
But in the late afternoon sun, the peeling plaster, sagging roof, and dank, overgrown patches in the yard were difficult to ignore.
Mr. Brooks brought Stormer up short and gazed at the scene. “So this is Rutherford Grange. It looks like it’s been here since the Normans. That central tower where the main door is could be an old keep. Remarkable.”
“You’re right!” she said, surprised. “Most people never see that…too much has been added on over the centuries. And it doesn’t look as it should. There’s not enough money to keep it up.”
“Is that your concern? My offer is still open. Say the word and I’ll kidnap you.”
She shook her head at his teasing. “Never, sir. Rutherford Grange is my home. If I am not here to care for it, who will?”
“A lot of house to care for,” he mused, looking at the building again. “I’ve been learning more about big old houses than I ever expected,” he said, “and I hope—”
