Lockwood waited at the bottom of the steps as Maddie descended the stairs. He’d requested a walk after tennis, so she had suggested a visit to the gardens. The flowers were in full bloom and there were benches if they decided to rest and talk. Even better, they would be completely alone there.
“You look lovely.” Lifting her hand, he kissed her knuckles.
“Thank you. Shall we?” She gestured toward the back of the house.
He offered up his arm, his tone teasing. “No chaperone? You are quite the radical, Miss Webster.”
“More like forgetful. I never think of it here at the beach because we’re so much more relaxed.” Rules were easier to bend in Newport when out from under the watchful eye of New York society—which probably explained why she liked spending time at the chateau.
“I am certainly not complaining, as I now have you all to myself.”
Maddie forced a smile, unsure why she wasn’t giddy with excitement. Lockwood had come to Newport and now asked to see her alone. She should feel something—a sense of anticipation, at least. Or satisfaction that her three-month-long quest might end in success.
Yet she had a strange sense of disquiet sitting on her shoulders, as if she wore an ill-fitting jacket.
The feeling will pass. This is what you’ve been working toward.
Of course, he liked to be outdoors as much as she did. Perhaps Lockwood merely wished to walk together in the morning sunshine.
Best not to examine whether it was relief or disappointment that coursed through her at the idea.
The sun was not quite directly overhead when they descended from the terrace onto the lawn. A warm breeze carried the scent of the ocean and gulls flew through the sky, dipping and swirling on their way to the beach. Turning her face to the sky, she took a deep breath and let the summer heat sink into her bones.
“Thank you for humoring me with a walk,” Lockwood said. “You must be tired after your tennis practice this morning.”
“Not at all. I try to play every day, even if I must hit against the wall in our cellar.”
“Smart. Then you are not dependent on the weather.”
“It keeps me physically fit for matches. Speaking of, did you enjoy the match today?”
“I enjoyed watching you. However, I’ll need to work on my game before playing with you lot again.”
She wouldn’t subject Lockwood to another doubles match, not with Harrison. “It’s not normally so competitive.”
“It seemed Mr. Archer was trying to prove a point.”
That he is an insensitive ass? Yes, point made.
She was still furious with Harrison—and he would have to explain his behavior just as soon as she could get him alone. “He is usually quite agreeable. You’ll like him once you give him a chance.”
“I have no issue with him, but it is clear he feels a bit . . . protective of you. Sort of like an older brother.”
Maddie knew it was more than that. The look Harrison had given her on the terrace, when he’d held her face, had been anything but brotherly. Same for the emotion in his eyes at dinner last evening. Yet where was this coming from? She hadn’t expected such fire and intensity from him, or discussions of kissing and jealousy. This version of Harrison was both reassuringly familiar and disturbingly different.
And the dichotomy in his personality was causing her head to spin.
Returning her attention to the duke, she said, “I will speak to him. He has no right to feel protective of me, considering he’s been gone so long. He missed his chance to play at being an older brother.”
“I don’t mind. I hardly scare easily.”
“No?” That was a relief, wasn’t it?
He chuckled. “I once broke my lucky club during a round at St. Andrew’s against the Duke of Argyll. We had three hundred pounds riding on that game. If that didn’t scare me, nothing else could.”
“Did you win?”
“By three strokes. Argyll was quite unhappy to lose that wager.”
“I’ve always wanted to play there. It’s unfair that men won’t allow women to play the same courses.”
“I agree, but they are convinced women shouldn’t play.” He gave a tiny shrug. “Minds will soon change, however. Look at you and lawn tennis. I daresay you could beat most anyone you challenged. You are quite talented.”
“Thank you.” Talent hadn’t been enough, however. She’d put in hours and hours of hard work to hone her skills. Thankfully, nothing made her happier than spending time outside with a racket in her hand.
They entered the gardens, where the scent of roses was overpowering. They were Mama’s favorites, and the cut flowers decorated nearly every room of the chateau in May and June. The fig and plum trees offered a tiny bit of shade on the perimeter, while a large copper beech sat in the far corner, near the fishpond. “Shall we sit on the bench?”
Nodding, he guided her toward the corner. When they were settled, he draped a long arm along the bench’s back. “This is a peaceful spot. Do you come here to enjoy the fresh air?”
“I feed the fish every now and then. This is more my mother’s spot than mine.”
“Is that so? Well, perhaps now it may be ours.” Slipping his hand into his coat pocket, he revealed a black ring box.
Her brain tripped over itself. Oh. This is happening.
Lockwood went down on one knee in front of her and held out the box. “I have already secured your father’s blessing. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife and my duchess, Miss Webster?”
She inhaled sharply. A gorgeous ring with a large emerald dazzled in the sunlight like green fire from inside the box. The stone was surrounded by smaller diamonds and finished with a platinum band. “It’s stunning.”
Lockwood removed the ring from the padding. “This belonged to my grandmother, then my mother. It is my hope that it will now belong to you.”
A duchess. He wishes for you to be his duchess.
This was what she wanted, as well. All the parties she’d attended, the late-night dinners. Small talk over waltzes. Tea and cakes during calls. She had worked incredibly hard for this moment.
So why weren’t the words coming out of her mouth already?
You are being ridiculous. You cannot make a better match than this.
She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I would be honored, Your Grace.”
His mouth hitched. “Excellent.”
He helped to remove her glove, then slipped the band onto her left ring finger. She held the stones to the light, turning them every which way. The ring was . . . astounding. “You’ve caught me entirely by surprise.”
“Surely not entirely, as I appeared on your doorstep yesterday without warning.”
“Well, perhaps not entirely,” she admitted. “Thank you, Lockwood.”
“You are welcome.” Gracefully rising, he retook his seat on the bench, grabbed her hand and lifted it to his mouth once again. “I shall endeavor to make you very happy, Madeline.”
It was the first time he’d used her given name.
She blinked, a bit jarred to hear him say it . . . which was silly. She would marry this man. They would be intimate, share every life event together, like having children and growing old. Why should hearing him use her name surprise her?
Yet, it did. The way he said Madeline, in his clipped British accent, was so different than the way Har—
No. She would not think about Harrison at this moment. He had no right to intrude on her thoughts during this happy occasion. No right whatsoever.
Swallowing, she said, “And I you, Lockwood.” Does he insist on formality in private, as well? Pushing that voice aside, she squeezed the duke’s hand. “Or, is there another name I should use . . . ?”
“Andrew, but friends call me Stoker.”
“Why?”
“One of those silly prep school nicknames, I’m afraid. It just stuck.”
I met a few dukes during my time in Paris. Generally not the most enlightened bunch.
Dash it, why was she letting Harrison’s comments ruin this moment? He didn’t know Lockwood—Stoker—as well as she did. But the doubts were already seeded in her brain.
Would the duke truly try to prevent her from playing?
Best to begin how she meant to go on. “I do wish to continue competing for another few years, as long as my knees allow it.” She braced herself, not knowing what her fiancé’s response would be.
“Of course. Were you worried I’d object?” After studying her relieved expression, he grinned. “I see. Madeline, as a duchess, you may do and say nearly anything without fear of recrimination. Furthermore, you’ll find that I am not planning to live in your pocket, as I assume you’ll not live in mine once we’re married.”
That last bit should have reassured her, but it sounded . . . lonely. As if he were planning to live separate lives, where they would schedule dinners together through secretaries. She longed for a partner in all things, not a passing acquaintance. The sort of marriage her own parents had.
The duke is not American. They do things differently there.
Yes, she supposed that was true. These adjustments would merely take some time for her to get used to.
Not a cloud floated in the sky that afternoon as Maddie and Katherine Delafield walked along the gravel path. Brisk ocean winds blew their skirts, and Maddie was forced to hold on to her hat so the breeze didn’t carry it away.
Mama had, of course, been thrilled about the engagement to Lockwood. She cried and told Maddie how lucky she was to have such an important husband, one that would elevate their family tree to practically royalty. Your children will influence the course of history, her mother had said. This was quite a lot of pressure for children who hadn’t even been born, but Maddie kept that opinion to herself.
Now she was headed to the gazebo along with Katherine, though she longed to be anywhere else.
She had considered claiming a headache or monthly pains. An upset stomach or organ failure. Anything to get out of going on this blasted picnic. But she was not a coward. A promise of chaperone duties had been made, and Maddie couldn’t desert Katherine, no matter her irritation with Harrison.
And she was irritated. His behavior toward Lockwood had been downright appalling. If this was Harrison’s idea of protecting her, she would need to set him straight. He was about three years too late for that nonsense.
The gazebo rested near the edge of the property, almost at the cliff’s edge, where one could watch the boats and the surf while sitting in the shade. She spotted Harrison there, his hands jammed in his pockets, gaze locked on the ocean. He wore no hat, the wind plastering a cream linen suit to his flat chest and long legs. Her insides jumped as if touched by an electric spark, then everything turned warm. Thank goodness for the cool breeze to chill her overheated skin.
You are betrothed. Stop ogling Harrison.
Katherine pulled Maddie to a stop. “Oh, rats. I realized I’ve forgotten something. I need to return to the house.”
“What? No, wait—”
“It’s important.” Katherine leaned over and spoke from behind her hand. “Woman problems.”
Maddie nodded, completely understanding. “I’ll come with you.”
“No, no. That’s unnecessary. I’ll go to the house, then come back.” She pushed Maddie toward the gazebo. “You go on without me. See you later!”
Without waiting for a response, Katherine hurried in the direction from which they had just come. Maddie considered tagging along, but Katherine could surely find the way herself. Resigned, she resumed her trek to the gazebo. At least this would give her the opportunity to speak to Harrison alone about his deplorable behavior.
His brows lowered as she stepped inside the open wooden structure. “What happened to Miss Delafield?”
“She’ll return. She needed to retrieve something from the house.”
“I see.” He rocked on his heels. “Turned out to be a bit windy. Are you certain we shouldn’t move this outing—?”
“Why do you antagonize Lockwood at every turn?”
He had the grace to appear sheepish. “May we at least sit before you yell at me?”
“No. I am too angry.” Her arms flopped uselessly at her sides, fury robbing her body of its usual coordination. “I cannot understand. You are acting like an ogre and he doesn’t deserve it. Frankly, neither do I.”
He gestured to the picnic basket and blanket on the wood floor. “Please, Maddie. It’s too windy. Sit down.”
She complied, if only to move things along. They arranged themselves on the floor, the sides of the structure blocking most of the breeze, and Maddie held herself stiffly. He opened the large wicker basket and pulled out a bottle of champagne along with two coupes. As he popped the cork, she removed her gloves. “I hardly feel like celebrating with you.”
His gaze flew to her ring finger, his entire body growing very still. “What is that?”
Clearing her throat, she tried not to fidget. “Lockwood has asked me to marry him.”
Harrison sat there, unmoving, for a long moment. Then he filled one coupe to the brim with champagne and downed the liquid in two swallows. After that he poured more. “Would you care for champagne?”
A clear head seemed wise at the moment. “No, thank you.”
Stretching his legs out in front of him, he leaned back and sipped champagne, his expression blank, gaze fixed on the horizon. The gazebo was intimate, not overly large, and they were close enough for her to see the hint of stubble on his jaw. The long lashes that framed his eyes. Slashing brows and high cheekbones. It was a face she knew well, though he remained enigmatic, a mystery since he’d returned from Paris.
The silence wore on and she strove for patience. He seemed in no hurry to answer for his obnoxious behavior—which only angered her further. Katherine would return soon, which meant there wasn’t much time. “Are you going to explain yourself?”
The remaining champagne disappeared into his mouth, and the strong column of his throat moved as he swallowed. “I don’t have to like him, Maddie.”
“You never even gave him a chance before you started sniping at him.”
Harrison reclined until he was flat on the wooden floor, his hands resting on his stomach. He said nothing, and she sighed in defeat. This was exhausting. If he couldn’t be honest with her, then she was wasting her time.
She started to rise, but Harrison reached over and wrapped a hand around her wrist, stopping her. “Wait, stay.”
“Why? Katherine will return soon. You don’t need me.”
“Do not go,” he said, his voice low and harsh as he propped up on an elbow. “Not until I explain.”
She folded her legs to one side, adjusted her dress and perched on her hip. “Then explain.”
The wind whistled through the gazebo’s top and created a small pocket of intimacy on the floor, a hidden place where only the two of them existed. A muscle in Harrison’s jaw worked, his stare locked on where their bodies were touching. She hadn’t realized he was still holding on to her. His thumb rubbed her skin, stroking, and her flesh sizzled under his fingers, the warmth spreading up her arm and to her breasts. Down between her legs. The touch felt possessive, not the least bit gentle.
So why wasn’t she pulling free?
Without releasing her, he sat up and locked eyes with her. Blue flames licked in the depths of his irises, heat like she’d never seen before, and her mouth went dry. “I am jealous,” he whispered. “I acted like an ass because I am consumed with jealousy, so much so that I cannot think straight, Mads.”
Her heart thumped as wicked pleasure flooded her veins, a rush of unexpected emotion that rose up like a wave . . . until she remembered.
Betrothal. Lockwood.
A chill went through her, chasing away any residual heat, and she jerked out of Harrison’s grip. “You shouldn’t say such things to me.”
His brows shot up. “Why? You were jealous of Esmée. How is this different?”
“Because you are not marrying her. You are not betrothed to another woman. I have a future decided, whereas you do not.”
“Your future is not yet decided, Maddie.”
How could he say that? “As of two hours ago, it is. I am promised to the Duke of Lockwood.”
“Who merely wants the dowry.”
“You act as if that is an uncommon occurrence.”
“True, but he doesn’t know you. He didn’t teach you to skip a rock or dig up clams. Or spend hours with you on the back lawn catching fireflies, making each other laugh.”
“We were children. That is what children do together.”
“The only person I did those things with was you. And unlike your fiancé, I actually care about you.”
She blinked, mouth open, at a loss as to what to say.
“I . . .” He blew out a long breath. “You asked for the truth and I did not want to lie.”
A part of her wished he had, that he’d kept this to himself. The knowledge threatened to strangle her, her chest tight with the ramifications of his revelation. Her mother had been right: Harrison was jealous of Lockwood. That implied Harrison had feelings for her, feelings that went deeper than friendship.
How was that possible? They had been out of contact with each other for the last three years, all by his design. Now he had returned and, what, developed a crush on her? It didn’t make any sense. Was this why he’d nearly kissed her on the terrace?
And why he’d stared at her so intently at dinner?
She rubbed her temples as if to stop her mind from spinning. None of this mattered. Not one bit. She was engaged to another man, a fact she hadn’t hidden from him.
So why was he doing this now?
“I have no choice, Mads,” he said. “It has to be now.”
He always had an uncanny ability to see what she was thinking. “Stop reading my thoughts.”
“I can’t help it, not when I know you so well.”
“Your timing could not be worse, Harrison.”
“I am aware.”
“I am betrothed to the duke.”
“Again, I am aware.”
He was so calm it only agitated her further. “Three years! Three years you were away without a word. And now you’ve returned, storm into my life, and talk of jealousy and kissing? It makes no sense.”
“Maddie—”
“Stop.”
She slid on the wooden floor, putting distance between them, but he inched closer, as if reluctant to part from her. “Something is happening between us,” he said quietly. Seductively. “After all these years, something has changed between us, even if you don’t wish to admit it.”
Oh, God. She covered her mouth with a hand, frightened of what she might say. Because he was right. From the instant he’d returned she’d noticed the changes in him, from his broad shoulders and thick thighs, to his flirtatious and intense manner. The confident way he moved and the determination burning in his gaze. Her stomach now fluttered the instant he walked into a room.
Far from offering comfort, however, the realization terrified her.
For as long as she could remember, he had been the impetuous one, cajoling her to join in his antics. She had been the steady presence, a calm voice of reason to keep him grounded. Like when he’d tried to take the skiff out in a thunderstorm and she’d stopped him, saying it was too dangerous.
This time the danger was right in front of her, so handsome and alluring. If she lost her head, her entire life would be ruined. Lockwood would be devastated, not to mention her parents, and the scandal would be horrific. She’d never be able to hold her head up on Fifth Avenue ever again.
Go, go, go. If nothing else she had to put distance between them.
Drawing in a fortifying lungful of ocean air, she pushed to her feet. “This was a bad idea. I regret I brought it up.”
“In other words, you wish you did not know.”
“I should return to the house.” Damn and blast. Where on earth was Katherine? Maddie sent a longing glance toward the path, but there was no sign of her friend. “We shouldn’t be alone.”
Gracefully, he unfolded his limbs and stood. “There’s no need to be afraid of me. I won’t pounce on you.”
She could hear the hurt in his voice, the contrition. No doubt he wished he hadn’t been honest with her. She quickly decided the only thing to do was give him honesty in return.
“I am not afraid of you, Harrison. I am afraid of myself.”