Page 74 of Bewitching the Duke

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“We must go now. We have a few more tenants to visit.” Selina kissed Mary’s forehead.

“Of course,” Mrs. Patterson replied and then walked them to the door. “When would you like me to start at the house?”

“Next Monday would be fine,” Colin replied. Now he just had to hope he hadn’t stepped on Mrs. Roberts’s toes. She might have wanted to speak with Mrs. Patterson first to make sure they would work well together.

“I will be there.”

He and Selina walked to their horses. After he helped her up, she stared down at him with admiration in her green eyes.

“That was the most thoughtful thing you could have done for her.”

He shrugged, knowing if he hadn’t been absent for eight years, he might have known of Mrs. Patterson’s troubles immediately. He had duty to come here and take care of his tenants. There would be no more wallowing in self-pity. Selina had shown him that life goes on . . . and he could too.

Chapter 19

Selina walked from the stables tired after a long morning of tenant visits with Colin. Every day for the past week they had been greeting the tenants together. Then every afternoon she had spent learning new dance steps with Kate. Selina wanted nothing more than to lie down and take a nap. But now she had to be fitted for a gown for a ball that she had no business attending.

No one would take her for Kate’s paid companion. For some reason, Kate wanted her there but Selina doubted it was just as a companion. She wondered briefly if Kate was trying to help her find a husband as a way of thanking her after the miscarriage. Or even more unthinkable, Kate might believe Colin would be a perfect husband for her.

That was a mad idea, indeed.

Kate would know that Selina wasn’t fit to become a duchess. It was laughable to think Colin would even want her to be his wife. She didn’t think he had changed his mind about marriage and children at this point.

Even if he did look more handsome than she had ever seen when he had Mary on his lap last week. There was something about a man holding a child that touched her heart completely.

Colin cleared his throat and then clasped her elbow. “Come with me for a moment.”

He led her to the reflecting pond. They both sat on the edge. She looked over at his windblown hair and was tempted to push the black hairs out of his face.

“Thank you,” he said softly and then kissed her hand.

“For what?”

“Showing me what I needed to do with my tenants. I feel horrible about how they’ve been neglected for the past eight years.”

She smiled. “Good. I’m glad you have seen what needs to be done. Now, will you act upon it?”

He nodded and kissed her hand again. “I plan on speaking with my steward tomorrow. I want money allocated to fix the cottages. If the tenants need something, I want them to go to Mr. Hughes and understand that he will act immediately.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, touched by his words. She never expected he would react this way. All she’d wanted him to do was meet the people who lived and worked his land. “I need to go now.”

“Where are you off to?”

“Your sister wants to speak with me.” She had no idea why she didn’t mention the ball. Perhaps it was because she didn’t want to see his reaction. He would probably ridicule her for going.

“Very well, I will see you at dinner then.” He rose and held out a hand to her.

“I do believe it’s time I returned to Mrs. Featherstone’s home. I have spent an extra week here only to please Kate. And she no longer needs me.”

“No,” he said quickly. “Stay here.”

“I do not belong.” And staying would mean returning to his bed again. While she wanted that desperately, she knew making love with him was only an illusion. One she must stop. She’d been able to avoid him the past few days by staying close to Kate. But she could sense his frustration rising. He wanted her again . . . and she was weakening.

“We will discuss this later.”

She nodded. “If you wish.”

She walked back to the house and up to her room on the third floor. She had thirty minutes before she was supposed to meet with Kate. She fell to the bed and stared at the white ceiling.


Tags: Christie Kelley Historical