Page 45 of Every Duke Has His Thorn
“If your father can spare you for a few minutes, I want to ask your opinion about the placement of a Doric temple I wish to erect in the little wilderness on the east side of the house.” He pulled a piece of paper from the drawer of his desk and got to his feet.
“Father?”
“Do go on,” her father replied with a nod.
She followed the duke out of the room and to the entrance hall. They exited the house and walked to the wilderness some hundred yards from the hall.
The duke came to a halt in the tall grass. The ‘wilderness’ occupied nearly an acre of land.
“I’ve made a rough sketch of a small Doric temple,” the duke said as he handed her the sheet of paper he carried. “I should like to build it in addition to a small reflective pool.”
She took the sketch and studied it. “This is exceptionally good, Your Grace. I could not do better myself.”
“That is high praise, Miss Davies.”
Her eyes still on the sketch, she felt warmth on her cheeks. “That may have sounded condescending. Do forgive me.”
“I value your opinion or I wouldn’t have asked for it.”
She looked up and their eyes met. “This is a lovely area for the temple and a pool.”
“Would you change anything about the temple?” he asked, his voice as warm as a caress.
Marina felt a wave of awareness rush through her as his voice washed over her. “Perhaps make the interior of the temple a bit larger? You could then place sophas and chairs inside the building so visitors could enjoy the reflective pool in a comfortable environment.”
“That is a wonderful idea.” He grinned self-consciously and asked, “Would you consider managing the venture? I know your father probably has another project already scheduled upon completion of my house, but perhaps you could find a spot for me in your calendar before winter.”
“We do have a project in Norfolk that needs our attention. “I could not stay on your estate without a chaperone. Perhaps if your aunt were to stay on…” She wanted so very much to remain at Barton Hall and help the duke with his project.
“I envy you your freedom, Miss Davies.”
She was so surprised at his words that she made a sound of disbelief. “You’re a man, Your Grace. You’re free to do as you wish. Study whatever subject you choose in the great schools of England.”
He shrugged. “And to be tied to my estates and the expectations of my place in society.”
“You have a lovely home and a long history here. You have a heritage.” Her words sounded wistful to her ears. “You know where you belong.”
“And where do you belong, Miss Davies?” He stepped closer to her, now only a foot away from where she stood, trembling at the intimacy suggested by the affection in his voice.
“I’m not sure,” she whispered as she felt her pulse beat a rapid tattoo.
“I could invent projects to keep you at Barton Hall until you decide, or I could kiss you.” He took a step, dipped his head, and his lips were only a few inches from her own. “To save time, I think I should kiss you.”
Marina didn’t know what to say. She wanted him to kiss her, so she closed her eyes and raised her chin the slightest bit, breathlessly anticipating her first kiss.
He smelled of sandalwood and fresh air, his soft breath against her mouth tickling her flesh. As he pressed his lips against hers, she felt dizzy and her legs went weak.
“Marina,” he sighed against her lips, his hands gently grasping her arms to keep her from swooning.
“Your Grace,” she answered on a sigh.
“Preston.” He claimed her lips in a deeper kiss. A moment later he raised his head and she could swear his eyes were smiling at her. “Now do you know where you belong?”
“With you?” she asked with an impish grin, joy welling up inside of her at the tender look on his face.
“I love you, Marina. I love your intelligence, your beauty, and most of all, I love how you challenge me. Would you do me the honor of becoming my duchess?”
For a moment, she was speechless. Her mind went over the weeks she’d spent at Barton Hall. Never had she felt the way she did when she was near the duke. She couldn’t imagine a day without him in it.
