Page 2 of A Slumber for a Duke

There was no sadness here. In this moment, in this place, Rose had truly found a new purpose for her life. Solely for herself.

Almost two years ago, when her husband Harry had passed away, Rose had been forced to learn how to start over. With no immediate family, she didn’t know where to turn. Rose had almost taken her friend Sofie up on a job offer to be a barmaid at her father’s tavern, when Adeline had told her of an opening for a nannying position to the Duchess of Somersby. It had always been Rose’s dream to have children and a placement with a duchess was an astonishing opportunity. Upon Adeline’s recommendation, Margaret agreed to hire her. And the relationship had only grown closer over the last year.

Now Rose was two-and-thirty. She felt too old for a family and children, but at least she had Margaret and baby Katie. Her dreams for a child had evolved into being a nanny. And with that role, she could have as many children as she liked.

At one point she had considered trying to find a second husband. There were a few men in the village that had promise, but she had been mourning Harry. Then, once she took on the job of nannying, there was no time for dallying, nevermind something more than that. And now that she was being published, she was absolutely certain that she had no time to look for a husband.

Chapter 2

IFANDREW,DUKEOFMarland, had been at home–without a foot of snow on the ground–he would have been out riding his horse for exercise. Or any number of things other than what he was currently doing. Which, to put a name to it, was hiding.

It hadn’t been his intention to arrive at Glass Hall and not go inside. What kind of guest did that? Apparently, only the kind that had traveled with a faithful companion, who preferred to take a stroll around the estates before meeting the other chatty guests inside. There were so few companions who truly lived in the present moment, fully aware of and appreciative of their surroundings. And to find one who enjoyed the crisp air of winter? Nearly impossible. Andrew counted himself fortunate to be in the small number of people who had just such a companion. And one who cost very little in fact. He had been with his companion for ages now. They were old friends.

However, the hiding was new.

Normally not one to avoid people, it was indeed a strange occurrence for Andrew to be hiding. Behind a tree, no less. And he had to be perfectly honest with himself, he was hiding. Though why behind a tree, and this particular tree at that, no one could say. Save his trusty companion, Dodger. Andrew couldn’t resist the hound’s insistence on stationing themselves here. He couldn’t resist much of what Dodger insisted on.

A snow clump fell from one of the evergreen branches directly onto Dodger’s little head. With a slow shake, the flakes fluttered to the ground. Andrew mindlessly swept one Hessian clad foot across the surface of the snow, inadvertently making a smooth square for himself in which to stand while he leaned against the rough bark of the bare tree. Admittedly, there was a chill in the air, but a sharp inhale was infrequent enough to remain outdoors for a while. It seemed as though the guests must have agreed as well because Andrew had earlier passed an entourage of freshly made snowmen on his way into the forest.

“Better here than inside, at least for now. Right, boy?” Andrew scratched the chestnut colored mutt and patted the head of his droopy-eyed friend. “We’re not really avoiding anyone in particular, we’re just…not eager to see any one woman. There’s a difference.” Dodger gave a short howl in agreement.

If Andrew knew anything of the ladies in attendance, and he did, it was that they drank a lot of tea. Cups and cups of gossip were part of their every day routine. And most assuredly they would cut up his peace by reminding him how he was of an age to come up to scratch. But if he was going to propose marriage, which he wasn’t, it would have to be for the perfect match, which he wouldn’t have. Not a love match. Not like his parents. No. Simply, the perfect match of convenience. If he was being honest with himself, he would admit that he didn’t want to undergo the pain he witnessed his father experience. After the love of his life passed away, Andrew’s father had mourned and never remarried. No, he didn’t believe in, nor did he want love at first sight, or a love match of any kind for that matter. But instead of analyzing the deep scars of his heart, Andrew focused on a trivial matter. He did not want to be tied down to a wife prone to giving curtain lectures. He didn’t need more private lectures. He’d had enough in his life from his father, though he didn’t blame him. His father had hoards of wisdom to pass down, particularly about love at first sight. Unfortunately Andrew happened to be an only child to a widower, so the hoards of wisdom clunked heavily, and exclusively, into his mind. And sometimes out of it.

Love at first sight was for romantics. Poets. Artists. The type of man given to emotions. That was not Andrew. He would never lose himself to a woman upon first glance.

Especially now, being the duke, he had plans for his life. To live it how he saw fit. And the wife he would choose would come along for the ride in full support. He would go his way, and she would go his as well. He had a box to maintain after all. A very important dukedom of a box.

Dodger barked. “Yes, I’m being completely reasonable. I’m a duke. Whoever I marry will be happy enough with that fact. What more could a woman want?” Dodger barked again. “So glad you agree.”

“Let’s walk. We shall visit with Stonecastle and the others soon enough.” Dodger trodded alongside his woolgathering master. Companionship at its finest.

Four-and-thirty was not too old for a man to continue in his bachelorhood. He need only snap his fingers at the first biddable debutante, and surely she would accept his offer of marriage. There was no need to put any actual effort into looking for a wife. And he wouldn’t actually snap his fingers. Well, most likely not.

Life was in its neat little ducal box; with all the pieces in play, and they in their rightful place, that Andrew desired. Being a duke, he knew his place as well. Dead center in the box.

Dodger barked again and took off into the snowy forest. The fallen snow sunk under his paws, leaving gaping holes. His pace was not especially fast, and the crunchy snow was not particularly forgiving, so Andrew easily matched his speed.

“Where are we off to now?”

The two plodded through the snow while Andrew relished the silence of the sleeping world around him. It was as if the snow beckoned to him to make a mark on it. Dodger had already done so several times in typical dog fashion. But Andrew mostly kept to a lightly worn path. To traverse where no one had gone before held no interest to him. He liked his view of the undisturbed snow.

“Sometimes I wonder if you know where you’re go–”

Dodger stopped. His head popped up, and his ears perked up, silencing his master.

And then Andrew heard it. A song. A Christmas carol. Sung by quite an angelic sounding voice. His mother had always sung to him as a child, from what he could remember. It was hazy at best, since he had been six when his mother died. The memories he had were of pure comfort. She had been more affectionate than other women of similar station, and he could more quickly recall her motherly arms around him than he could recall the exact color of her hair. Here and now, he could almost see her smiling. Something about the song spurred images of his mother to mind. A faint echo of a laugh brought a smile to his face.

Although he was avoiding women at this exact moment, it couldn’t hurt to see who was singing. Besides, Dodger wanted to know, and Andrew completely trusted the dog’s instincts. Dodger was sniffing around, ears keen on all the sounds around him. How could he resist the lovable mutt?

He couldn’t.

And that’s how Andrew found himself hiding behind his second tree of the day.

Chapter 3

ANDREWSTOODQUIETLYBEHINDthe tree, patiently waiting to get a glance of the woman Dodger had sniffed out.

WHOMP!

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