Chapter Seventeen

The day after Kitty’s magical adventure in the tree with the duke, she wrote to her mamma, informing her of plans to extend her fictitious visit to her aunt in Derbyshire for another week.

Outrageous, absurd even, but she had followed the impulse and requested her letter to be delivered posthaste. Since then, another few days passed charmingly yet had been fraught with an unknown peril. An odd sort of tension existed between her and the duke whenever they crossed paths or dined with his family. He’d rarely allowed them to be alone, and she had not noticed before, too uncertain of the strange feelings he inspired.

Kitty laughed at the idiocy of it all, though she sobered immediately.

Why won’t you be alone with me, Alexander? And why am I not finding every reasonable excuse to run far away from you and this situation?

She knew she should be in London with her sisters. That old refrain only made her sigh with impatience. Kitty was both baffled and intrigued by the manner in which her mind and heart regularly turned to the dratted man. All the buried hopes had been stirred up, and Kitty was never one to shy away from her impossible and daring dreams or escapades.

With a sigh, she closed the book she’d been reading, lowered it to the small writing desk, and made her way across to the wide windows of her room. She stepped closer, pressing her palm against the cool glass as she spied Alexander seated in a rowing boat, gently floating atop the lake. As she stood watching the duke, a most astonishing truth became evident to Kitty. The duke was indeed afraid to be alone with her. Is it because you like me, too, Alexander? For she had not tried harder to leave his castle simply because she felt with her entire heart a connection of unprecedented proportions lingered between them.

A flash of green caught her attention, and she shifted her regard from the duke. Mr. Collins ambled across the lawns with a posy of flowers in his grip. He would bring them to her as he did each day, and they would take a walk along the lake, where he would make her laugh with amusing anecdotes of his travels. No anticipation shivered through her at the prospect of taking a stroll with Mr. Collins, though he was so very amiable and attentive.

Was Mr. Collins courting her? Merciful heavens. The idea seemed too outlandish. The man thought her to be Alexander’s fiancée.

Unless he knew the truth?

Yesterday, on a short stroll through the gardens, he had suggested calling upon her in town to meet her mother and sisters. She hadn’t had the chance to answer, sensing someone watched them. It had been Alexander, on top of the hill overlooking the gardens. When she noticed him, he’d merely turned his chair away and wheeled himself from her sight. She had made a cake of herself by grabbing the folds of her skirts and hurrying up the slight incline in his direction. By the time she’d arrived at the summit, Alexander had disappeared from view, leaving her to wonder where he’d gone.

Mr. Collins had seemed decidedly disgruntled by her actions, but he’d made no comment. Kitty moved from the windows, plucked the book from the writing desk, and slipped it into the deep pocket of her day gown. She made her way from the chamber down the long hallway and winding staircase. Mr. Collins smiled upon seeing her.

“Miss Danvers, good afternoon. Might you accompany me on a stroll?”

“Mr. Collins,” she said warmly, accepting the flowers he held to her. “Thank you for the invitation, but regrettably I have other plans. Perhaps after dinner, we could take a turn through the gardens? With Penny accompanying us, of course.”

He masked his disappointment quite gallantly and even made a charming bow. Kitty excused herself, placed the flowers in a vase, and rested them on the walnut table in the smaller drawing room. Then she made her way outside, walking along the path that led to the lake in the distance.

“Miss Danvers!”

The call had her turning around. “Mr. Collins, is all well?”

He reached her, panting slightly, his hair no longer impeccably styled, as if he had repeatedly raked his fingers through it. “It is,” he said with a smile. “I suspect you will visit Alexander, and I thought I might accompany you on the stroll to the lake.”

She hesitated, then replied, “I would like that, Mr. Collins.”

Kitty ambled beside him for a few paces and shot him a curious glance when his steps slowed before halting. As she’d suspected, there was more in this than merely keeping her company. “Do you wish to speak with me, Mr. Collins?”

He grimaced, staring off in the distance before settling his regards on her face.

“I suspect you are in love with the duke. On our long walks, I could feel that your mind was with him…and yesterday, the way you ran after him…”

Kitty flushed in abject mortification. “I admire and like him, yet I believe there is a difference,” Kitty said softly, glancing at him with a proud tilt to her chin.

He was silent for a moment, staring into her eyes. “He’s the loneliest man I’ve ever known. He needs love to ward off that loneliness. Yet he does not accept comfort willingly or readily. I suspect, though, he would give away his entire wealth if you were the person to offer it.”

“How absurd you should think so!” Yet her heart pounded with desperate hope, and from the smile on Mr. Collins’s face, he might have seen it in her eyes.

“I suspect you are aware of the terrible tragedy that took so much from Alexander years ago. For a time, he was an angry beast, snarling and hating the world for the loss of his parents and his inability to be the man he once was. Society did not call him mad, bad, and dangerous for sport. I daresay he was reckless and intemperate, young, and foolish in his pursuits: gambling, racing, I assume you know there were Cyprians. Alexander was well loved and respected. He has lived with pain, horrible pain as he fought to recover.”

Mr. Collins shifted his attention to the lake. “Years later and he is still not physically able to do many of the things he once did, and I suspect part of him relives that loss every day. It is hard for me…for Penny, for all those who care for him to touch that loss and offer comfort because, for all intents and purposes, we are still perfectly fashioned. And the most interesting thing about my cousin, Miss Danvers, is that he does not require that comfort from us.”

“What do you want him to share?”

Mr. Collins raked his fingers through his hair, mussing the once neat style. “Anything! He does not tell us he is lonely or unhappy, but we see it. He has eschewed all form of female companionship, and…” He blew out a frustrated breath. “Pardon my indelicacy, Miss Danvers. I will see you at dinner.”

Then he walked away, and she watched him until he disappeared from sight. What did Mr. Collins want from her? And not only him but Penny as well. Even the staff seemed to watch Kitty with an unexplained air of expectancy.

She continued her walk to the lake, and once there, she lingered by the bank, watching the duke rowing lazily atop the waters. Kitty was afforded an opportunity to study him at her leisure and couldn’t help noting how alone he seemed. Surely there must be some connection, she mused, for he paused, seemingly took a steadying breath, and then shifted his regard to her.

She lifted her hand in a wave, and from where Kitty stood, she saw a small curve to his lips.

Relief darted through her when he used the oars and turned the boat toward her. He stopped only a few feet from her, the muscles of his arms working as he angled the boat so the bow gently tapped the banking. Then he released the oars, resting his arms casually atop his thighs, and stared at her.

His cerulean blue eyes were so empty and distant, her heart ached. Kitty did not flinch from his regard but held it with a lift to her chin. “Have you been ignoring me, Your Grace?”

“Good afternoon, Katherine,” he finally said.

“Ah…so no walls up today. I anticipated ‘Miss Danvers’ from your lips.”

His eyes lost their cold, rather cynical expression, warming with humor…and desire.

She was surely too practical, and had too much common sense, to be beguiled by a smile, yet her heart fluttered madly at the sensual curve of his mouth. A sweet twisting ache stirred in her belly, and her heart quickened. “Would you like some company in your boat? I have a book,” she offered impulsively.

“Yes.”

Kitty would have been considerably disappointed if he’d refused.

Alexander stood, rocking the boat, and held out his hand. With caution, she stepped forward and reached for him.

“Jump,” he said, his eyes alight with amusement.

Kitty glanced at the space between the boat and the embankment with a scowl. “And if I should fall in?”

“I’ll not allow it.”

And without hesitation, she jumped, trusting him to help her safely into the boat, which rocked far too precariously when she landed. With a soft grunt, he steadied her, then assisted her in sitting down on the thwart. His touch muddied her thoughts and made her warm all over. “Do you row often?” she asked, a bit too breathlessly.

“There are times the walls of the castle feel…cold and oppressing, when the memories torment,” he said mildly.

“And you come here…” She glanced around at the wide-open waters, the graceful weeping willow trees in the distance.

“And I come here.”

He sat directly in front of her, collected the oars, and started to row. They stayed like that, in this silence that felt so peaceful. Kitty lifted her face to where the rays of the sun valiantly attempted to peek through swollen clouds. After a while, she withdrew the small leather book from her pocket and decided to start from the beginning, in the event he’d not read The Legend of Sleepy Hollow before.

She started reading, changing her voice at times to reflect the different characters who appeared in the story. Several minutes passed before she paused, glancing up. The duke was staring at her. A ripple of warmth shivered through Kitty’s heart at the tender regard in his gaze.

“You read beautifully,” he murmured.

“Thank you. I do so often for my sisters and mother. And Papa, too, when…when he was alive.” She cleared her throat. “Shall I continue?”

“Please,” he murmured, pushing the oars forward, then clawing them back with powerful grace. The muscles rippling under his shirt quickened her pulse alarmingly, and she looked away, hating the blush rising in her cheeks.

She read, and he rowed, his face slightly tipped to the warmth and beauty of the sun.

Kitty peeked at him over the pages at times, wanting to be a part of the peace he seemed to exude. The scarred section of his face seemed to pull taut over the elegant ridge of his cheekbone, and in the midst of it, an icy radiance appeared to emit from the duke. How odd that he found such enjoyment in loneliness. Or was it that he was too enmeshed with the state?

A surreal sensation gripped her, and she wondered if she would ever completely know the man before her. Even now, there was a terrible air of isolation about him.

Closing the book gently, she rested it on a small basket on the floor of the boat. She noted the apples and sandwiches tucked neatly in. “Does it matter to you at all that I am here…in this boat with you?” she asked softly.

He stopped rowing. The eyes that peered at her were unfathomable. He reached for her, his fingers tracing the lines of her cheekbones and jaw.

“You are the only person I’ve ever wanted to share my silence.”

She did not understand, though she hungered to. “Alexander—”

“The beauty of silence is that it simply is. In the stillness and tranquility, I find peace. Instead of being afraid of the void, I embrace it.”

Kitty thought of her mother and sisters and how quickly they rushed to fill any quiet moment with more laughter and conversation. How strange and complex they would find the duke.

“Do you hear your heartbeat?”

“No,” she whispered, her mouth drying when he slid his hand from her face and rested it against her chest. Kitty flushed, and millions of birds took flight in her stomach.

“In silence, the senses are heightened. I hear your heartbeat…and mine; I hear and feel the gentle rushing of the wind, the fishes swimming below us in the water, your sweet, soft sighs. There is such beauty in silence before the breaking dawn, after the violence of a storm, in the snow that blankets the land in winter. There is peace, and in the presence of silence, we find the answers to difficult questions.”

“Are you not lonely within the silence?”

“Infinitely so, echoing, endless loneliness.”

Kitty’s heart shattered at the icy acceptance in his voice.

She leaned lightly into him, tilting her face to his. “Why do you stay in this remote place, Alexander? Why not come to London, be a part of the season?”

“It is not the frivolity of the season, empty, aimless chatter, and hypocrisy that fills the void in me.”

“What does?”

An uncomfortable beat, then he said, “You.”

She searched his face, her heart pounding. “Then, why have you been avoiding me since our day in the tree?”

His expression stilled; he made no response. They stared at each other for a while, then Kitty said, “I can now hear your heartbeat, though I am not touching you. How it pounds…and that is because I am sitting so close to you, isn’t it? Do I dare think you are falling for me?” she taunted with a slow smile.

“You impud—”

“Impudent minx,” she finished for him with a low laugh.

The beginning of a smile raised the corners of his mouth. “You must learn to swim, Miss Danvers.”

The change in conversation startled her for a moment. “I daresay one day I shall. I’ve always thought sea-bathing such a risk—”

Kitty barely had time to gasp when the duke released the oars, grabbed her, and tumbled with her over the side.

“You beast!” she shrieked, spluttering and grabbing onto the side of the boat.

“I thought you were adventurous, Katherine.”

“You…you odious man,” she said with a choked cry.

“You are not sinking,” he said, his voice low and reassuring behind her. “And I am right here.” He was pressing into her, and the feel of his hard body against her made something wicked and delightful stretch deep inside her. A light touch against her hip and it was as if the sun burned her so bright.

The sensation was so electrifying. The chill of the water had no impact, for she was heated from the inside.

“You dumped us in the water to distract me from my purpose,” she accused.

“And what was your purpose?”

Ignoring his low question, she asked, “You are afraid of what I make you feel… Why?”

In reaction, he gripped her hips so tightly, she couldn’t breathe, but for a moment, she didn’t care, just savored the feeling of being surrounded by him.

“Your mouth has no filter, does it?”

A prickle of uncertainty moved down her spine. “Do you want me to be circumspect?”

“No, I quite like when you are bold and fearless. I want you… I know that I shouldn’t, but how I do crave you, Miss Danvers.”

She didn’t respond immediately. She couldn’t. All she could think of was the way he’d tormented her with pleasure in the cabin. A low throb moved through her abdomen, and an unbearably keen awareness scythed through her. Kitty touched him, gliding her fingers over his clenched fist, slowly straightening them so they were palm to palm, then she interlaced her fingers with his. Kitty felt her heartbeat, erratic and uncertain as his own under the tip of her fingers.

She turned in the cage of his arms, her back pressed against the gently bobbing boat, but it was he who held her above water.

“Wrap your legs around my waist; it will be easier to keep you afloat that way.”

The wicked suggestion of such intimacy stole her breath. Kitty stared at him in mute shock, then glanced behind him at the castle and rolling lawns in the distance.

“Most of our bodies are under the water… No one can see.”

He took her by the waist, pulling her away from the boat. The only support she had now was his body, and she willingly wrapped her legs around his hips. They stood, practically in an embrace, with the raw power and vitality of him surrounding her. She could feel the grace and strength in the legs that kicked below the water keeping them from sinking into the murky depths.

Strange bewilderment filled her, and she felt unmoored and conflicted. We will have to be wicked and improper to get the things we want. Since the night in the cabin, Kitty couldn’t stop her headlong slide into attraction to the duke any more than she could make water flow uphill. Her complicated feelings could little withstand the force of reason. “Have you ever felt like this before, Alexander? With anyone?”

The brilliant blue of his gaze became suddenly intent, searching her face. His silence made her heart beat still more violently.

He seemed exasperated, even a bit amused. Then he leaned in close, pressing his mouth against her temple. “No.”

The admission disarmed her. She blew out a breath to dispel it, and immediate relief swelled through her body. She wanted to press her face into his throat and breathe in his scent. Instead, she turned her face so that her cheek rested against his. “Neither have I.” She heard herself laugh, all breathless, incredulous delight at her daring admission.

Lightning streaked and forked above, followed by the ominous boom of thunder, yet neither moved. Her hands shifted of their own volition, sliding up along his back. “Do you fancy you could feel like this again?”

At his silence, she leaned back so she could observe his expression. There was a peculiar look on his face.

“No, I do not believe it to be possible.”

“I dare not believe it to be possible, either.” A flush warmed her face. “Then, what are you going to do about it, Your Grace?”

He shook his head, a rueful gleam in his eyes. “You are not at all like other ladies, are you?”

Her heart gave a lonely throb. “Do you want me to be?”

He brushed a thumb over her cheek. And that caress was a source of cold fire that burned everywhere that he had lingered on her body.

“Never,” he murmured. And then he kissed her.