Page 58 of The Duke's Sinful Bride

Staff members scurried about, preparing the meal with eager hands and bright smiles, the joy of the outing contagious.

The blanket laid on the grass was soon covered in a spread of treats—cakes, biscuits, freshly baked tarts, and several pitchers of juice and tea. The scent of sweet pastries mingled with the fresh garden air, making the whole scene feel like a dream.

Maisie, her eyes wide with excitement, jumped up and down in circles, eagerly awaiting the moment she could dive into the spread of food.

“This is going to be the best day ever!” she declared, her voice full of youthful joy.

Killian was seated beside the picnic blanket, carefully crafting a kite for Maisie. His large hands moved skillfully, shaping the frame and attaching the colorful fabric.

Maisie hovered around him, her small hands on her hips as she watched his every move with rapt attention.

“Papa, will it fly high?” she asked, her little face full of hope.

Killian gave her a rare smile, the corners of his lips lifting. “It will fly as high as you want it to, Maisie.”

Once the kite was completed, Killian stood and handed it over to Maisie. Her eyes sparkled as she took it, and with an excited squeal, she ran off, the kite soaring high behind her.

Killian followed close behind, his long legs easily matching her pace as he laughed with her, the sound of their happiness ringing in the air.

Maisie’s laughter was contagious, her joy like a brilliant light. She ran faster, her tiny feet kicking up grass as she held the kitestring, her father running beside her, encouraging her with every step.

Then, in the excitement, Maisie stumbled and fell, the ground rushing up to meet her.

Killian was beside her in an instant, lifting her into his arms with surprising gentleness for a tall, strong man.

“Are you all right, Maisie?” he asked, his voice laced with worry. But the little girl only giggled, clearly unfazed by the tumble, her bright eyes still shining with happiness.

Yvette quickly rose to her feet, rushing over to them, though Maisie barely seemed to need her attention. She was too caught up in her laughter and the joy of the moment.

“I am fine,” Maisie assured her, reaching up to wrap her tiny arms around Yvette’s neck.

With a laugh of her own, Yvette kissed Maisie’s cheek. “You’re such a brave girl.”

Maisie nodded enthusiastically. “I can do anything if I’m with Papa!”

Killian returned them to the picnic blanket, still holding Maisie in his arms. He lowered her gently to the ground.

Yvette sat beside them. She settled back against the soft grass, her eyes shifting to Killian as he sat beside her.

The quiet comfort of the picnic was only occasionally interrupted by the sound of Maisie’s gleeful chatter.

“Papa, do you think we can go horse riding together on the morrow?” Maisie cranked her neck, staring up at her father.

Killian’s eyes touched Yvette’s face, before he returned his attention to Maisie, tapping her head.

“Only if you wake up early enough,” he said with a smile down at her, pinching her cheeks in the process. The little girl jumped with excitement and wrapped her arms around Killian, who couldn’t help but smile.

“I’ll wake up at first light!” The little girl declared with such determination, then she turned to Yvette.

“Duchess, did you hear that? Papa will take me riding in the morning,” she said in a sing-song voice. Yvette nodded her head, a smile on her face, directed at Killian, who leaned toward her slightly and spoke in a low voice.

“You could come with us, if you’d like. Your presence will be greatly appreciated.”

Yvette colored fiercely.

As they ate and chatted, there was an unspoken connection between Yvette and Killian, moments when their hands brushed against each other, their fingers just grazing, sending sparks of electricity through Yvette’s veins.

She tried her best to focus on the beautiful afternoon and the laughter of her daughter, but the touch of Killian’s skin, the warmth of it, lingered in her thoughts.

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