Bewitching the Duke

“Hartsfield already has two wise women. Why would he need another?”

Colin went silent for a moment. “At least he will take you in.”

“Oh, then it must be for the best. After all, one of my ancestors has taken care of this estate and your family for centuries but you obviously don’t need one.”

He blew out a breath. “There is more to this than that.”

She turned around sharply, almost running into him. “And what exactly is it?”

How could he begin to explain his reasoning when he didn’t know himself? It was simpler to give the answer she would assume. “I cannot have the reminder here.”

“Reminder of what?”

“Why my wife and son died,” he muttered, staring off into the forest. “I need you to leave so I don’t have to relive it every day that I’m here.”

“Until you realize there was nothing,” she paused briefly, “my mother could have done, you will never heal. It was God’s will. I see it all the time. People die before they should and there is nothing I can do about it. God knows I wish I could.”

God’s will.

How many people had tried to tell him that? But he knew it wasn’t God’s will. It had not been God who insisted Mary deliver at the estate. He’d wanted his heir born at the estate ju

st as he’d been born here. He was the reason Mary died that day. She’d wanted to remain in London near her mother for the birth. But he’d insisted that his heir would be born at the ducal estate. Just as all the previous dukes had been born here.

Miss White turned back around and headed for her cottage. “Good night, Your Grace.”

“Good night, Miss White.”

Once he saw that she was inside and a candle flickered, he headed back to the estate . . . alone with his guilt.

Two days had passed with no sign of Miss White. Not that he’d had time to even think about her with the workers arriving daily to get the house in order for the wedding. But today, he left instructions for the foreman and then departed for a ride.

He flicked the reins of his gelding and headed toward her cottage. As he approached, he saw nothing to indicate she was in residence. Perhaps she had already found accommodations elsewhere. He slowly jumped down and walked to her window. Peering in, he noticed a bowl on the table and the embers in the fireplace. It appeared she’d made no effort to start packing her things.

He would have to speak with her again and insist she make arrangements. Or perhaps it was time to do that for her.

He climbed back on Zeus and headed toward Hart’s lands. As he rode, he nodded to several tenants, only to have them turn their backs at him. What was that about? He could only guess that they were displeased that he hadn’t visited yet. But with the workers arriving daily, he had to make certain they knew what needed to be done. Tomorrow, he would make the effort to greet his tenants.

Urging Zeus to a run, he flew across the countryside. He had missed getting a good ride every morning. Finally, he slowed his horse to stop when he reached Hart’s stables. He climbed down and handed the reins to a lad.

“Give him a good rubdown, boy,” Colin said and tossed him a coin.

“Thank you, sir.”

“That’s Yer Grace,” an older man said and whacked the boy on the backside of the head.

Colin shook his head as he walked toward the door.

“Yes?” a butler said after opening the door.

Colin realized that he must have been gone far too long if his friend’s butler didn’t recognize him. “I’m here to see the earl.”

The butler waited for a card.

“I don’t have a card, my good man. I am Northrop.”

The butler’s blue eyes widened. “Excuse me, Your Grace. Come right in.”

Colin followed the man down the gallery filled with family portraits until they reached Hart’s study.