Page 18

C aitria couldn’t believe she’d agreed to this picnic. Love was something a duke was not looking for when it came to a woman of her social standing, so she should stay well away.

But her heart wanted him. She wanted him and therein lay the danger.

When Alexander had appeared at Seacliff House this afternoon, a few days after the dinner party, his easy charm had completely disarmed her defenses. Even Lucien, who’d been so protective lately, seemed won over by the duke’s earnest request to “show Miss O’Donnell the best views of the coastline.”

After a short carriage ride, here she sat on a blanket amid wildflowers, watching Alexander arrange their feast with surprising attention to detail. He’d brought everything himself rather than sending servants, and she couldn’t help but be touched by the care he’d taken.

She should have brought a chaperon, but who was she fooling? No one thought of her as a lady, so why should she have to follow conventions?

“I hope you’ll forgive the simplicity,” he said, laying out bread, cheese, and fresh fruit. Plus, a bottle of wine. “I wanted us to be alone.”

Her heart fluttered at his words, but she forced herself to remember who they were—or rather, who they weren’t. “Your Grace—”

“Alexander,” he corrected gently. “Please. When we’re alone like this, I’d like to just be Alexander to you.”

“Alexander,” she conceded, noting how his eyes brightened at her use of his name. “You know this isn’t proper. You would not be here like this with Lady Penelope because—”

“Penelope is my mother’s choice, not mine. That is why I am not here with her like this.” He lay back, long legs stretched out beside her, studying her with those intense blue eyes. “Do you know what I thought when I first saw you emerge from the waves that day?”

“That I was a woman of questionable virtue?” she suggested dryly.

He had the grace to wince. “Besides, that. I thought you were the most alive person I’d ever seen.

No pretense, no artificial manners, just pure joy in the moment.

” He leaned forward, his expression earnest. “Then you challenged me. You didn’t care who or what I was.

Do you know how rare that is in my world, Caitria? How precious?”

“In all fairness, I didn’t think you a duke when I first met you.”

“Would it have made any difference if you had?”

“No.” She looked away, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze. “I’m sure there are many ladies who could learn to be more natural, if that’s what you desire.”

“I’ve always known the type of woman I want by my side,” he said firmly. “I want you. Just as you are.”

“Want?” she growled.

“Not the way you think. I want a wife whom I respect. Whom I admire and who captures me in ways no woman has so far. A woman like you. It’s as if I’d listed what I wanted most in a woman and then you arrived. The minute I met you, I knew you were perfect for me.”

This was ridiculous—wife! “Your mother would be appalled,” she said with a chuckle. “Can you see me as a duchess?”

He took her hand in his. “I can see you as my duchess.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“But I do. Because you don’t hide anything of yourself.”

“That’s not true. I’m hiding now. I’m hiding how much I feel for you and I’m hiding that it scares me to death because you are so far beyond my reach that what I feel is but a dream.”

“If you let me, I could make both our dreams come true.”

On a sigh, she picked up an apple and took a large bite, then sat chewing for a moment. Finally, she swallowed and said, “Thank you for believing you could marry me. I’ll cherish that thought, but it would never work, and you know it. Society would scorn you.”

“I don’t give a fig about society. I care about being happy and only I know what kind of woman would put me over the moon.

All my life women have seen me as a title, a purse, and a status symbol.

I’m more than those things. My parents wed to align powerful families, and that union didn’t make for a happy household.

I want more out of my marriage. I want to be happy. You’d make me happy. Blissfully so.”

She sat back and really looked at him. “But would a marriage to you make me happy?”

“Only you can answer that. Am I worth the gossip, the snide remarks likely to be made under people’s breath. Am I worth being shunned by society? Because if I’m not, then maybe you aren’t the right woman for me.”

That was food for thought. She ran her gaze over him and her heart did that same little blip it always did whenever she thought of him.

She didn’t really know him well, but something inside drew her to him.

She couldn’t deny she’d fallen in love with him.

“If I chose not to marry you, all those things you just mentioned would have nothing to do with it. I just think this is all happening too fast. Is there a reason you’re in such a hurry? ”

He picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “No. But when I know what I want, I go after it.”

“So, you’d be happy to wait for my answer?”

“Not happy, but I will wait because the best things in life are worth working for.”

Then he bent and took her lips in a gentle kiss. A kiss that made her want to scream yes .

To her surprise and disappointment, he broke off the kiss and sat back, laughing when he caught her expression. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m trying to behave like a gentleman and prove it’s not just your body I’m after.”

His words eased the tension, and they spent a pleasant hour talking and sharing stories about Lucien. “It almost sounds as if you’re envious of the simple life he’d lived in Malahide.”

Alexander lay on his back, his eyes closed, chewing on a piece of straw. Pulling it out, he said, “Sometimes the idea of going somewhere where no one knows who I am sounds very appealing.”

“I suspect you’d grow tired fairly quickly of being one of the downtrodden. And the lack of coin does become weary.”

“I suspect you’re right. One day you could take me to Ireland, and I’ll go just as Alexander. Your husband.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at his sneaky attempt to get her to say yes. “We’ll see.”

He sighed and winked. “Best I think about getting you home. Lucien will worry if we are late.”

Alexander walked the few yards to where he’d tied their carriage under the trees, so the horses were shaded.

Before she could respond, a shout of alarm cut through the air. They both turned to see a horse charging along the cliff path, its young rider clearly having lost control. The boy couldn’t have been more than twelve, and the terror on his face made Caitria’s heart stop.

She was on her feet and moving before conscious thought took over. Behind her, she heard Alexander call out in alarm, but she was already positioning herself in the horse’s path, her movements slow and deliberate despite her racing heart.

“Easy now, a stór,” she called out in Irish, her voice calm despite the danger. The horse’s ears pricked forward at the sound, though it continued its headlong rush. “That’s right, my beauty. Look at me now.”

The cliff edge loomed mere yards away, but Caitria held her ground.

She’d done this before, back home with frightened farm horses while helping her father work their land.

The trick was to remain absolutely calm, to be the still point in the storm.

She kept talking, her Irish lilt growing stronger as she mixed English and Irish words in a soothing stream.

The horse slowed, fighting against its own momentum. Its eyes rolled wildly, but Caitria could see it responding to her voice. When it was almost upon her, she reached up slowly, offering her hand palm-up, still murmuring gentle nonsense.

The horse pulled up short, sides heaving, nostrils flaring. Caitria kept talking as she gently took hold of the bridle, leading the animal away from the cliff edge. Only then did she look up at the white-faced boy still clinging to the saddle.

“There now,” she said softly. “You’re both safe. Let’s get you down, shall we?”

The boy practically fell into her arms, his whole body trembling. “I’m sorry,” he choked out. “He spooked at a rabbit, and I couldn’t—”

“Hush now,” she soothed, checking him over for injuries. “You’re both fine. That’s what matters.”

She heard running footsteps and looked up to see Alexander sprinting toward them, his face a mask of concern. “Good God, Caitria! Are you both all right?”

The boy straightened, attempting to recover his dignity. “Yes, Your Grace. Thanks to the lady.”

“Indeed.” Alexander’s eyes hadn’t left Caitria’s face. “Thanks to the lady.”

After ensuring the boy—who turned out to be the son of one of Alexander’s tenants—was truly unharmed, they watched him lead his now-calm mount back toward home. Alexander turned to Caitria, his expression unreadable.

“You could have been killed,” he said quietly.

“If I hadn’t acted, the boy would have been,” she countered. “Would you have preferred I stood by and watched?”

“No,” he said, stepping closer. “No, I wouldn’t have. Because then you wouldn’t be the woman I’ve fallen in love with.”

Her heart stopped. “Your Grace—”

“Alexander,” he corrected automatically, then caught her hands in his.

“Listen to me, Caitria. These past days, getting to know you… You’re the first woman I could truly imagine spending my life with.

Your courage, your kindness, your complete lack of artifice—you’re everything I never knew I was looking for. ”

“I’m a farmer’s daughter,” she whispered, though she didn’t pull her hands away. “I have no dowry, no connections—”

“I don’t care,” he interrupted fiercely.

“I have enough money and connections for both of us. What I need is a wife who makes me laugh, who isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty helping birth puppies, who will risk her life to save a child she’s never met.

” His thumbs traced circles on her palms. “I need you.”