For over an hour, he sat and looked at the house and grounds. Children should fill some of those bedrooms and run across the manicured gardens. There should be happiness here, not sorrow.
Days like today, Colin wondered how his father would have advised him. Would the old duke understand Colin’s reluctance to live here? Considering his father remarried eighteen months after his mother’s death, Colin doubted the old duke would understand. Colin picked up a flat rock and skipped it across the water. He was certain his father would have told him to perform his duty as duke and mourn his wife for a year. Then find a new one and forget the first wife.
Only it had never been that easy. Mary had been a very special woman. He’d never met a woman since who cared for people the way she had. He’d never loved a woman other than her . . . and never would again. She had taken his heart to the grave with her.
His mind turned to the green-eyed woman who seemed to bother him far too much. She forced images into his mind that had no purpose and would only cause him frustration. He closed his eyes and remembered the way her breasts pressed against the fabric of her dress as she stood her ground with him. Her unbound hair had caressed her cheeks making him want to move the hair and let his fingers graze her skin.
He blinked his eyes open in anger. The last woman he wanted in his bed was that little hoyden. He had to get her away. The temptation was far too great with her nearby. He felt guilty for asking her to leave while he was here but it was his estate and therefore his right. He had an obligation to Kate to make this wedding wonderful. He could not do that with Selina near, inciting his anger with her talk of medicine and herbs and her tempting scent driving him mad with desire.
She had to leave.
There was no other choice if he was to keep his sanity.
“What are you doing out here again? I told you to keep that foot elevated.”
Colin closed his eyes against the instant irritation he felt at being disturbed. It wasn’t the interruption that bothered him, but who disrupted his peace.
“What are you doing here, Miss White?” he bit out.
“I always come to the pond after a child is born.”
She sat down on the wall and removed her short boots. She then reached under her skirts and pulled off her stockings. Colin stared at her delicate feet for a moment as awareness shot through him. She shivered as she dipped her feet into the water. The woman had no sense of propriety at all. Didn’t she understand showing her shapely calf to some men was an invitation to trouble?
“The cold water would be good for your foot,” she said casually as if unaware of how inappropriate her actions were.
“My foot is fine.” His gaze dropped to her slender bare legs rising from the water.
She tilted her head up and stared at the sky. Slowly, she released a sigh. He stared at the long length of her neck and wondered if it would taste soft and sweet. Colin swore to himself. He had to stop that line of thinking.
“It didn’t take long with Mrs. Thomas,” he commented, remembering the hours of agony Mary endured.
“I barely made it in time. Mrs. Thomas was already to pushing when I arrived. Ten minutes later, the baby was born.”
She made it sound so easy. Colin knew it wasn’t always so. “Why do you come here after a birth?”
She shrugged again. “I don’t know. It’s just something I’ve done since my first delivery. After the excitement of helping a new life into the world, being here calms me.”
“I take it Mrs. Thomas and her child are well?”
“Yes,” she said with a wistful smile. “A healthy baby boy.”
Colin looked away as pain seared his heart. Mary had been so insistent that she would deliver a boy for him. And she’d been right.
“What’s wrong?” she asked softly.
“Nothing.” He swung his legs around and stood. As long as she was here, he would never be able to forget what happened here. “Enjoy your peace . . . while you have it.”
“While I have it . . . what do you mean?”
“I want the cottage cleared out in the next week and you gone,” he said roughly.
She turned around and stood with her hands on her hips. “How could you think to do such a thing? My family has been here as long as yours. My mother and grandmothers have kept your family safe from harm, helped birth your heirs, you included, and tended your family when sick.”
“You are not a physician. You dabble in herbs and call yourself a healer. I don’t need a healer here. And I don’t need you here.” He turned to leave but stopped at the sound of her overconfident laugh.
“You need me more than any of your relatives did, Your Grace.”
He looked back at her trying to ignore the tears shimmering in her eyes. “I don’t need you.”