My Darling Duke
A duchess at last…
It was simply too outrageous to be believed.
“I task you to ensure that every newssheet that has mentioned Miss Danvers is delivered to me immediately, and all that mention her moving forward should be sent to me posthaste with no expenses spared.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Mr. Pryce murmured, pleasure rich in his tone. “I am happy to serve.”
“You are dismissed.”
The man bowed, a spring in his step as he made his departure.
Silence once more blanketed the massive study like a shroud. He stood, gripping the head of his cane, absorbing the pain winding across his back. The doctors recommended he try to operate without his wheeled chair for at least an hour each day. Alexander had ignored them, and no less than three hours was spent on his legs every day, despite the agonizing discomfort.
He made his way along the hallway, which was redolent with the scent of lemon wax and flowers. The large hall echoed with memories of a life long forgotten, a time when his sister had shrieked without decorum as she ran down these hallways, the servants smiling at the unlikely picture of his mother, a duchess, chasing her child. His sister’s presence had never allowed him the luxury of being overly maudlin.
She’d needed him more than he’d needed darkness to hide away in.
Each step jarred him, the pain at times making his steps falter. But he did not call for his bath chair or his manservant. He made his way down the winding stairs, past the drawing room and the grand ballroom, to a private room that had been designed solely for his use. Gripping the handle, he opened the door and entered the only paradise he allowed himself—his library.
A room where shelved walls of books and scrolls and stone tablets rose in three stories of splendor. It was decorated in antique gold and blue, with six soaring windows facing the rolling expanse of the green castle grounds. It was a room fit for a pasha, overflowing with antiques and unique items he had collected before his accident.
There had always been a deep-seated need inside him to study human culture and the different civilizations. He had toured the continents, locating precious gems and stones, revered scrolls, miniature sphinxes and statues of exotic animals, rare vases from the Ming dynasty, and books; he had hoarded them like a dragon protecting his lair of treasure.
During his recovery, he’d hired a team of archaeologists, lawyers, and hunters of exceptional and unique things, and each year something more precious, more unique had been brought to him. He felt as if he collected the great beauties and wonders of the world, yet he had never been fulfilled. He touched his latest acquisition: Emperor Kublai of the Mongol Empire immortalized in the cold jade of the statue.
It brought him no pleasure.
The void was not filled; there was no rioting need to immerse himself in the rare books that accompanied this and each acquisition. His mind did not reach toward the abyss where he could submerge himself in another exotic world and be free. For his desire to collect suddenly burned with a furious need to add another object to his growing trove of treasure.
Miss Katherine “Kitty” Danvers.
But once they came behind these massive oak doors, his treasures did not leave. An unusual interest pulsed through him at the notion of this daring creature in his castle.
“Finally, your meeting is over!” a muffled voice filled with annoyance exclaimed.
He smiled, moving farther into the grand library and around a wall of bookcases to another open area to see his sister sprawled indecorously on the dark green oriental carpet, her peach day dress already showing signs of smudges. She had been in one of his crates.
“I surmise you have been waiting long?”
“At least two hours.” She shot him a quick smile, her turquoise eyes filled with excitement. “Look what has arrived, Alexander. A sacramental vessel from the Temple of Seti. Isn’t it glorious? I believe Mr. Cook has outdone himself with his latest acquisition. There is a book of hieroglyphic—” Penny pushed to her feet and fisted her hands on her slim hips. “You seem out of sorts! Should I summon Dr.—”
He waved aside her concern. “I’m quite well. I simply got a bit of unexpected news.”
She shot him a birdlike look of inquiry. “Is it news from the doctors?”
“No.”
Relief lit in her eyes. “Is it good or bad news?”
“It depends on your outlook on—”
“Please spare me any more philosophical lectures and tell me,” she cried with endearing frankness.
Alexander chuckled, recalling their spirited debate this morning as they had rowed on the frigid loch waters. “It appears I am engaged.”
She gasped and sank into the well-padded cushion of the sofa. “You are to be married?”
“So it seems,” he said with droll amusement.