An American Duchess

by Sharon Page

  He guessed Isobel wouldn’t. Not now that she had Zoe’s approval.

  He admired men who pursued knowledge. His dream had been to travel to Persia and Egypt. Look for tombs and pharaohs. Search for the beginnings of civilization. But he was a duke and then war broke out. Duty had kept him from fulfilling his dream. And he knew how it felt.

  Taking long strides along the narrow track that led down from the ridge of the river, Nigel caught up to Zoe. “I have no intention of denying Isobel her dream.”

  Zoe slowed her pace, allowing Julia and the children to surge on ahead. “Really? The man I first met would not have said that.”

  That startled him. He probably wouldn’t have, back then. A few weeks ago. “What do you mean about Julia marrying?”

  She gave him her direct American look. “Julia has fallen in love with Dr. Dougal Campbell.”

  “The young surgeon?” Now he understood Isobel’s interest. “Julia—she’s been raised to be a lady, to manage an estate—” He broke off. He was willing to accept university. But this—

  “Anyway, you’ll be happy to know the engagement between Sebastian and me is off,” she said. “I can’t do my duty and marry Sebastian. There won’t be a divorce.”

  “I’m only concerned about one engagement.” He stopped and caught her arm. Her violet eyes captivated him every time he looked in them. Half the time he couldn’t remember what he wanted to say. This time, he couldn’t forget. “Marry me, damn it. I’ll agree to whatever terms you propose. You can have the same arrangement that you had with my brother. I agree to give you your freedom. Or you can be duchess for the rest of your life. Whatever you want.”

  That came out much harsher than he’d intended.

  Her unusual purple eyes flicked over his. “Langford, are you...groveling? I assume it’s not because you are so hopelessly in love with me, you’ll do anything for me.”

  “I am on the brink of losing Brideswell,” he said. “You probably do not care about that. But the settlement you promised my brother would save us all. Having your trust would save your mother. I do not like divorce. I do not agree with it. I think a gentleman and a lady should soldier on. But I cannot stand on pride when the ground below me is crumbling away. I will agree to whatever terms you want. We will marry. You will be my duchess for as long as you wish. If you want it to be five minutes or forty years, I will agree.”

  “Do you even like me, Langford?” she asked bluntly.

  The question took him off guard. “I believe I do.”

  “You believe you do? You could sound a little happier. You could attempt to sweep me off my feet. When a man proposes marriage, shouldn’t he say he’s in love with you? Shouldn’t he be in love?”

  What English girl would ask a question like that? Under his collar he was hot with embarrassment. He was madly, passionately in love with her, but he couldn’t begin to guess what she felt for him. “Are you in love with me?”

  “That is a good strategy, Nigel. Turning the tables on me. The truth is, I don’t yet know. But I think you have to love me or this won’t work.” She lifted her brow. “And I don’t know if you do. I feel that every time you look at me, you see every way in which I am not duchess material.”

  “Not duchess material?” he echoed. Confused. He’d expected to deal with a yes or a no.

  “You see all my flaws. Each time you look at me.”

  “God, no. I am the one who is flawed, Zoe.” He raked his hand through his hair. “You know the truth about me. I am a bl— I am a mess.”

  “Your scars?”

  “The scars. The shell shock. The shaking. The lack of control. Zoe, I’m not good enough for any woman as I am. Least of all you. But I do love you. You are the most exciting woman I have ever met. When I am with you, I feel like I am alive. You have a joie de vivre that I adore.”

  “I thought that drove you crazy.”

  “It makes you impossible to resist, Zoe. You make me laugh. You make my heart soar. When I held you in my arms, I had never experienced a more magical moment. Damn it, I just told you I love you.”

  She stared at him, and he swallowed hard and went on. “I want to spend my life with you. I know that may not be what you want. But it is what I dream of.”

  He cleared his throat. His speech felt awkward, and he felt stiff and embarrassed. He had not explained everything to her—he hadn’t told her the complete truth about himself. “Any terms you give, I will agree to,” he said. “Do I have your acceptance of my proposal?”

  Her lips twitched. “Is my word going to be enough, or would you prefer it handwritten and submitted to your secretary?”

  “Of course your word will be enough.”

  “Then I will marry you, Langford.”

  “Good. I will apply for a special license forthwith. We will be married as soon as possible.”

  His nephews ran back to him them. Already their trouser legs were soaked. “Hurry up, Uncle Nigel. We need help to make boats.”

  * * *

  Boats made of tree bark, twigs and leaves bobbed on the lake. Sebastian strolled down, carrying a bottle of champagne and flutes. Standing on the dock that jutted into the water with him and Julia, Zoe drank champagne.

  “Uncle Nigel, we are going to sink your armada,” warned Robert.

  All the boys threw rocks and shouted, “Boom! Bang!” The oldest had deadly aim and destroyed most of Nigel’s boats in seconds.

  Zoe couldn’t take her eyes off Nigel. The man who had used the word forthwith in a marriage proposal was crouched in the reeds by the edge of the lake, shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows, launching boats to amuse five young boys—their father, the earl, had stayed up on the ridge, enjoying a cigar. She had never dreamed Nigel would enjoy playing like this. Mud stained his trousers and he didn’t seem to care.

  Julia moved close. “Is it really true? Nigel just told me you accepted his proposal.”

  Zoe nodded.

  Julia touched her arm, faced her with serious eyes. “You are following your heart?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Even though I saw it with my own eyes, I never dreamed the two of you would fall in love. But I saw him after you took him driving and flying, and he looked like a different man. So much happier, so much more alive. I had begun to think he was very predictable and then he surprised me completely by falling for you. It restored my hope for his happiness.”

  Zoe blushed. She wanted to think they would be happy, but he had not sounded entirely happy when he proposed to her. She understood—for weeks she had thought falling in love with him was madness. But she couldn’t stop herself. “I don’t know if I make him happy.”

  “Of course you do!”

  “He can be as starchy as an old shirt with me. He tries to hide everything he feels behind a mask of ice.” He could be wild and wicked, too, when he made love, but she couldn’t say that to his sister. “One moment I think I’ve genuinely made him smile, but then, the next moment, he is arguing with me. It makes me wonder if we aren’t both crazy.”

  He said he behaved so awkwardly with her because he believed he had flaws. She liked him best when he was out of control. But he hated to be that way. Yet that was when his heart opened and she saw the man she desired.

  “Crazy?” Julia frowned. “Are you sure you are in love with him?”

  “This is the most complicated thing I’ve ever felt,” Zoe admitted. “But I think it’s love.”

  “Well, I am so happy you are going to be my sister,” Julia said.

  “I am happy, too. I’ve always wanted a sister.”

  What was she going to do? Stay married to him just long enough to get her money? Or make it last?

  It was strange—she didn’t know the answer. She wanted him with pure, raw hunger. But could a marriage between them work? Sh
e didn’t want to reveal her uncertainty to Julia. Not when she’d encouraged Julia to follow her heart.

  “Uncle Nigel, were you hit by a shell?” The question came from the middle boy of the five, but all the other lads perked up their ears, too.

  “It must have been exciting to be in battle,” Robert declared. “I would love to be a soldier. I would’ve killed the Huns.”

  “Battle is not as glorious as we think before we are there,” Nigel said gently.

  Zoe’s heart lurched as she saw the sadness touching his face.

  “How many Huns did you kill, Uncle Nigel?”

  “I do not know how many. War is a strange thing. They were just young men—with families and hopes and dreams. Many of them were scared. I learned one thing from war. It’s a tremendous waste. But what would have happened if we did not fight? That, I do not want to imagine.”

  The boys stared at him, confused. Zoe hung on his every word. Sunlight bathed him, but he looked as if he could see the mud-filled front.

  “Wasn’t it exciting and thrilling?” Robert asked.

  “We always romance that—the adventure of battle. It’s not a reason to wage war. There are better adventures you could have. You could travel the world on a ship or a train when you grow up, Robert. That is what I want. For war to be behind us, for you to grow up in peace. I only hope, as the world changes, that people remember what it cost.”

  This man...this man she could love. This man she wanted to be with. For a lifetime.

  Nigel straightened. “But now it is time to pack up and go back to Brideswell. If you run back up to the ridge you might get some food before it is all put away.”

  The young boys gave whoops, splashed out of the water and charged up the path.

  With Julia and Sebastian, Zoe picked her way over the uneven dirt path to Nigel. She wished she was here alone with him. She ached to kiss him.

  She loved him when he was like this—when he spoke from his heart, and she got a glimpse inside it.

  “Will you be married in London?” Julia asked, her voice bubbly as they walked up to the ridge.

  She and Nigel hadn’t talked about that. But she had to be married in New York.

  Her home. Where she knew the rules.

  When they reached the top of the hill, Sebastian took her empty glass and came back with one filled with the last of the champagne. He clinked his glass against hers. “I wish you every happiness, Zoe. And if my brother does not make you happy, I will return from Capri and have serious words with him.”

  “So you have decided to go? I’m glad,” Zoe said. “I’d like you to be happy.”

  Sebastian glanced toward Nigel, who was brushing mud off his trousers. “I haven’t told Langy yet. I doubt he’ll be pleased.”

  “Nigel might surprise you. At heart, he is a very good man.”

  Sebastian’s brows rose. “Proof that he loves you, if that’s the way he behaves around you.”

  Zoe felt her cheeks go warm. “He loves you, too, you know.”

  Footmen began to pack the picnic away. She saw Nigel take a seat next to his grandmother. The dowager sat looking out over the ridge, looking away from the setting sun at the river valley bathed in light.

  “There is something I have to tell you, Grandmama,” he said.

  To Zoe’s surprise, Nigel was as direct as she would have been. He took a leaf from Zoe’s book and said bluntly, “Zoe has broken her engagement to Sebastian, and I have proposed to her.”

  The dowager blinked. “It is like a game of musical chairs—but one where everyone’s seat is pulled out from underneath them.”

  12

  A VISIT TO THE CHURCH

  As the sun set and the picnic was packed away, Zoe watched while the children were herded into their seats in the vehicles; doors were closed so they could not run out and disappear.

  She was engaged. She would be married. If she wanted, she and Nigel could have children of their own. She could watch him sail boats with their boys. Would he play tea parties, too, with the girls? She intended to ensure daughters would strive to do anything the sons did—

  “Well,” said the dowager beside Zoe. “It appears Brideswell is to have an American duchess.”

  Zoe held out her elbow. “Would you like me to help you to the car?” Her emotions were in too much of a tangle to argue with Nigel’s grandmother.

  She had thought she would never love anyone but Richmond. But everything had changed....

  Julia came forward, and the dowager took her granddaughter’s arm, ignoring Zoe’s offer.

  “It’s the beginning of summer,” the dowager said. She was reminiscing to Julia as Julia helped her to the car. Zoe walked beside them.

  “At my first picnic at Brideswell, I knew I was to marry the duke,” the dowager continued. “Our mothers had their hearts set on it. But by the end of the day, I had fallen in love—with someone else. An earl’s eldest son. But he died. A duel, of all things. He was a charming man, a thorough rogue and a terrible shot. Two days after, I accepted the Duke of Langford’s proposal. I cried all the way to the wedding. I stifled my tears for the ceremony and the wedding night, for Mother insisted my marriage would be a disaster unless I held in my tears until after that particular event.”

  Julia blushed and Zoe felt her cheeks heat up. The dowager could be so surprisingly blunt.

  She thought of Nigel, of course. Her wedding night would not be filled with tears.

  “But you did fall in love with the duke eventually,” Julia said. She offered her arm to help the dowager to the Daimler.

  “I never did. It was for the best, of course. He was as much a scoundrel. Just far better at avoiding being caught.”

  “Do you think a woman should only marry for love now?” Julia asked.

  “I think a woman in this modern age can finally choose to do what makes her happy. I am rather envious of you. And a lifetime of a marriage for duty is...a lifetime.”

  Perhaps she understood the dowager more. A lifetime wed to a man you didn’t like? It would be torture.

  Zoe was doing what made her happy—she knew, after seeing Nigel with his nephews, that she wanted her marriage to last.

  The dowager touched her arm. The older woman studied her appraisingly. “You would never be satisfied with a sacrifice to make others happy, dear. Keep that in mind. Do not marry Nigel simply to become a duchess, my dear.”

  “I’m not.”

  Of course the dowager thought Nigel would not be happy with her. The dowager believed Nigel wanted a woman like Miss Strutt—even though that woman was the logical choice for a duty marriage, not a passionate marriage.

  “I am marrying for love,” Zoe declared. “And we will be happy. I will make Nigel happy.”

  “My dear, you cannot make someone else happy. The other person must find happiness in themselves.”

  * * *

  Mist rolled over the lawns, winding around Zoe’s legs, tumbling in front of her as she walked down to the stables the next morning. Her mare was already saddled with a gentleman’s saddle, the groom leading her out as she arrived. On his huge black stallion, Nigel waited for her. When he rode, he looked gorgeous. Romantic.

  Last night, Nigel had sent her a note by footman. Folded, on cream writing paper, with a ducal seal embossed in wax to keep it closed. It had been so formal....

  My dear Zoe, please ride with me tomorrow morning before breakfast. It is about the wedding and there’s something rather important I must ask you.

  That was who he was on the surface—restrained, reserved, formal. But yesterday he had told her what was in his heart. And she had captured his heart.

  She knew what she had told the dowager was true—she could help him recover from his wounds. She could make him happy. She had changed him alrea
dy.

  “Good morning,” she said as she swung up. “What did you want to ask?”

  “Good morning to you, Miss Gifford.” He lifted his hat. “Let us ride first. But please take care in the fog. Stay close to me.”

  Once she would have been goaded to tease him due to his formality. But now she knew what he could be like beneath it—passionate, and playful and sweet as he was with his nephews. It made his ducal behavior even more enticing.

  He was an elegant rider. His body rose and fell in a smooth rhythm. He looked as if he’d been born to ride. They crossed the lawns, took the track through the meadow past her airplane—the first place she’d ever made love.

  They hadn’t talked about the wedding.

  “Nigel, let’s stop and talk,” she called. “What did you want to ask me?”

  “Ride with me a little farther, Zoe.”

  She had to keep her mare close enough to him to keep him in sight. What did he want? He hadn’t listened to the dowager, had he? Finally she couldn’t stand it anymore. “Do you want to back out?”

  With a barely perceptible tug on the reins, Nigel halted his enormous horse and walked the beast around to face her. “No. Do you?”

  “No. But you’re the one who sent a mysterious letter and now won’t tell me anything.”

  “I want to ask if you would accept the sort of wedding I want, Zoe.”

  “Usually the bride gets to choose—”

  She broke off. The softness in his clear blue eyes took her breath away. She’d never seen this expression on his face.

  “Zoe, I know you want to marry in New York. Your mother told me. Then declared she wanted a lavish wedding in London, preferably in the most impressive church. But I would like to marry here, at Brideswell. I know you may not wish to stay here, but I want to offer it to you as your home.”

  But it wasn’t her home. It was a different world. “I don’t know. I had my heart set on New York for the wedding.”

  Their horses trotted side by side, down the track that wound through the fields of the estate and took them to the village. They passed townspeople and Nigel acknowledged greetings from each one. He knew everyone, of course, and had a polite word for many. She saw the look on so many faces—it was like watching a group of girls meet Rudolph Valentino.