Page 54 of Taken By the Icy Duke

But a recent change of attitude had brought color to their daily interactions—a new tenderness, a sense that they shared something beyond duty or appearances. And, with that, came a surprising amount of contentment.

She turned as footsteps approached, expecting to see Ruth or perhaps one of the footmen bearing letters. Instead, Gilbert stood in the doorway, his gloved hands behind his back, and his expression poised yet faintly uncertain.

“Gilbert,” she greeted, letting surprise modify her tone. He so rarely sought her out during the late afternoon, typically attending to estate matters or other pressing business in town.

“Diana,” he said quietly, stepping into the drawing room. His gaze passed briefly over the chessboard set on a nearby table, and the neatly stacked volumes on the shelves, then returned to her.

“You were not in the library,” he added, as if that explained why he had come looking for her.

“I thought the drawing room better suited for admiring the garden. I feel the day too fair to spend entirely indoors. Please,” she gestured to a nearby chair, “will you not sit?”

He glanced at the proffered seat but remained standing, an energy about him that hinted he could not remain still.

“The rosebushes have never been quite so lush. I wonder what has changed?” Diana observed, breaking the silence. She peered outside, noticing how the breeze toyed with their petals, the late-afternoon light turning them a delicate shade of pink.

“We switched gardeners two months ago, and he swears by some new mixture of fertilizer,” Gilbert explained.

He walked over to where she stood and examined the garden.

“I only wondered if,” he began, then paused. A wave of self-consciousness suffused his features. “you might like to see them up close. Would you care to walk with me outdoors?”

“I would like that very much,” she said agreeably. Diana’s heart fluttered. Such a small, casual invitation, yet it felt significant coming from him.

He offered his arm, and though it was such a simple gesture, she found her throat tightening with a strange, new kind of anticipation. Rarely had he initiated a stroll in the gardens just for the pleasure of her company. She laid her fingertips on his arm, nodding as he led her out of the drawing room and down the corridor.

In the foyer, a footman hurried to open the great door leading outside. Warm air, tinged with the scent of grass and distant lavender, enveloped them. Diana’s slippers sank slightly into the gravel path as they moved beyond the threshold, Gilbert by her side.

She could not help stealing a glance at him out of the corner of her eye, admiring the distinct line of his jaw and the set of his wide shoulders. The recollection of their nights together raised a gentle flush on her cheeks. He had once been so reserved, but was now moving more deeply into her life.

They followed a winding, flower-lined path as the beauty of the garden stretched out around them.

Occasionally, he commented on a particular flowerbed or newly trimmed hedge that caught his eye. His remarks no longer contained the formal dryness she recalled from days past. Instead, he spoke with subdued enthusiasm, as though he wanted her to share in the simple wonders of the estate. The sun highlighted the chocolate hues in his dark hair and emphasized the affection in his eyes whenever he glanced her way.

“Here,” he said at length, guiding her off the main path. They reached a cluster of rosebushes heavily laden with fragrant pink blooms, their sweet scent drifting on the gentle breeze. Diana let her hand hover over a delicate petal, inhaling the floral perfume.

“These are lovely,” she breathed. “You said they only just began to bloom?”

“Our gardener noted them yesterday. I wanted you to see them while they are still fresh.” He nodded, then continued, “We will have to prune carefully after a week or so, or they will grow too wild.”

Diana smiled. “I do not mind a bit of wildness.”

“Our gardener said these roses nearly withered last autumn. I was sure we would lose them,” Gilbert said as he reached for a low-hanging blossom and gently brushed away a stray leaf.

“It seems all they needed was proper care.” She glanced up, her eyes bright. “Much like people, do you agree?”

“I have been reminded,” Gilbert said at last, “that with the right conditions, one can flourish unexpectedly. Even if one never thought to try.”

Their gazes met in a shared moment of amused understanding, perhaps recalling that the most cherished things in life often grow without rigid constraints. She turned back to the roses, feeling Gilbert’s comforting presence behind her.

Over the past few nights their nearness had grown in ways she had not anticipated. Laughter shared over some trivial remark after they had extinguished the lamps, or a murmured conversation about the day’s trifling events.

All of it stitched them closer together with threads of time and appreciation. And of course, Diana could not ignore the undeniable pull of physical attraction that caused her body to tingle whenever he entered a room. It had also been a surprise to find herself so at ease with him during the day, doing something as simple as walking together or admiring a flower.

Eventually, they made their way back to the house. Diana was reluctant for their comfortable interlude to end. But estate duties, household matters, and other trifles demanded theirattention. They paused in the foyer while the staff unobtrusively went about their tasks.

“Thank you,” she said, releasing his arm but letting her hand linger a moment longer than necessary. “For showing me the roses.”

He inclined his head, something akin to softness in his gaze. “It was my pleasure, Diana.”

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