Page 73 of A Marquess' Season of Secrets
“Does it work?”
“I ... I’m not certain,” she admitted. “The thought merely walked into my mind. Perhaps it is another puzzle of my past.”
“Either way, I shall be glad for something warm before retiring to my room.”
“And I shall be pleased to make it. Shall I begin?”
He nodded. “Please.”
Juliana placed a cushion behind her back and shifted slightly before paging through to where the story began. “I was born in the year 1632, in the city of York, of a good family ...”
The rest of her morning was spent in the library without a thought to her duties. They seemed far away and not important in the light of reading to the duke. He stopped her several times to make an amusing comment or two before urging her to read as though she had been the one who had chosen to stop!
However, all good things eventually came to an end, and Juliana had to excuse herself lest she fall behind on all her chores. Despite the looming work ahead, Juliana did not regret her time in the slightest and carried the joy of those hours throughout her day.
It was only when she wearily climbed the stairwell to her shared room that she wondered if she had fallen in love with the duke.
Chapter 15
Nash threw a pebble across the stream, watching it skip four times before landing in the waters with a tiny splash. His best was six skips, but it had been some time since he had come down to the stream and played the game. His father had been an excellent pebble-thrower and taught Nash everything he knew, including picking the stones and what angle to toss them.
Afterwards, they would fish, hoping they could catch something for Cook to make. They were successful more often than not, but Nash never worried about returning home empty-handed because spending time with his father had meant so much to him.
Even travelling the world at a young age had been a great adventure and not something that he now found irresponsible of two parents with a little boy.
Sighing, Nash wiped his hands on his waistcoat and turned back to the house. Jasper had wanted to fish today, but he was currently on a morning call to the Dowager Countess of Bourne after a request arrived yesterday morning.
The woman had moved to Oxfordshire several months ago and quickly became attached to Jasper because he reminded her of her late husband. Ever the gentleman, Jasper had agreed to go merely to brighten the widow’s day.
The man would likely return just before dinner as he had spoken about needing to go into town for a new coat and other personal items. Nash wished his friend had picked a different day because his sister had invited Lady Catherine Spencer for tea, leaving him alone with two women. It was astonishing that Ellie’s rival had suddenly become her friend overnight, making Nash question the hasty change.
Up until several weeks ago, Lady Spencer was the last person Ellie would have picked to walk into Stratford Manor, and yet the woman was about to enter their doors for the second time. Catherine was no better or worse than Ellie’s other friends, which was likely why the two were suddenly friends and not enemies.
Nash doubted it was a true friendship, but merely one that was beneficial to them. Life would undoubtedly be easier if Ellie had befriended Isabella instead, but that was simply wishful thinking.
Isabella’s very presence put him at ease and made his mind feel less crowded and weighed down. Nash hadn’t expected to ask her to sit with him at breakfast the other day or have her read to him, but he was glad that he did because it became one of the best days he had experienced since before his parents’ deaths.
It was a tall claim to make, but he had no other way of explaining it. Drinking hot chocolate and listening to Robinson Crusoe being read to him just as his mother used to had given him such a feeling of peace and happiness that Nash had never wanted it to end.
However, the tea ahead promised to be a painful time with the sort of talk that made him want to gnash his teeth and jump out of the window.
“Your Grace,” Johnson called out to him.
The man jogged down to where Nash was hiking up a slight hill and fell into step with him.
“I take it that my sister’s guest has arrived?” asked Nash.
“Yes, Your Grace. She has asked me to let you know.”
“It might be too late to become lost in the woods,” he said. “They probably would have seen me from the window.”
“That is likely, Your Grace,” Johnson replied with a twinkle in his eyes.
“Are you laughing at my unfortunate state?”
“Not at all, Your Grace.”
Nash harrumphed and continued to climb the hill. He would prefer another morning spent with Isabella than sitting with his sister and Lady Spencer. The light-hearted feeling that had persisted well after his time with her was now waning, but he didn’t want to lose it.
