Page 59
Story: Dukes All Summer Long
T he scent of sea salt and damp earth lingered in the air as Honoria made her way downstairs. The storm had passed, leaving the world fresh and renewed. Everything inside her felt changed.
She had spent half the night awake, turning over every moment with Reese, the kiss, the confession, the way he had chosen her over duty without hesitation.
She should feel uneasy. She should be making plans to leave. Instead, she found herself wondering where he was. She was about to give up when she saw him.
Reese sat in the inn’s modest dining room. His broad shoulders were relaxed as he flipped absently through a newspaper. The moment he spotted her, he set it aside. No hesitation, no pretense.
“Good morning, Honoria.”
She swallowed. “Good morning.”
He gestured toward the empty chair beside him. “I ordered tea for you.”
She hesitated, knowing full well that sitting beside him now meant something entirely different than it had before. Still, she took the seat.
As she poured her tea, the air between them grew thick with awareness. They had shared a kiss that had changed everything. Yet, here they sat, drinking tea like it was any other morning.
“I wasn’t sure if I would see you today,” he said after a moment.
She looked up. “Because you thought I would leave?”
His lips curved slightly. “The thought had crossed my mind.”
She exhaled a quiet laugh. “I considered it.” A heartbeat passed.
“But you didn’t.”
“No.” She didn’t know what that meant yet. But she wasn’t leaving.
They continued their meal, falling into an ease that should not have been possible after everything. And yet, here they were. After breakfast, he invited her on a walk, and she found herself saying yes before she even thought to refuse.
The storm had cleared the streets, the cobblestones still damp beneath their feet. They passed a vendor selling seafaring instruments and small trinkets, their surfaces polished to a gleam.
Honoria paused, her gaze falling on a small brass compass. Something about it called to her.
Reese, always attuned to her smallest reactions, reached down and picked it up. “You don’t need a compass, Honoria.”
She arched a brow. “Why not?”
He turned it over in his hands, considering. “Because I don’t think you’re lost anymore.”
The words struck something deep inside her. She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, he placed a few coins in the vendor’s hand and pressed the compass into her palm. She curled her fingers around it, feeling the warmth of his touch lingering.
He had given her the charm the day before. Now this. Little things, little reminders that he saw her, truly saw her.
They continued through town, their steps naturally aligning as if they had always moved as one. At one point, a small group of women passed, giggling as they whispered about the storm-washed ballroom the night before and the dancing.
Honoria hadn’t given the gathering much thought. They had danced under the glow of lanterns, surrounded by other couples. But that had been different. A dance among many. A moment shared with the world.
This? This was something else. She had him all to herself.
She must have hesitated a moment too long because he caught her glance and tilted his head.
“Would you care to dance?”
She let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “Here? In the middle of the square?”
“No,” he mused, his lips twitching. “I think I can find something more suitable.”
Before she could argue, he was already guiding her away through the narrow street and into a small garden tucked behind a row of shops. It was quiet, private, and framed by climbing roses.
Honoria stared at him. “You planned this, didn’t you?”
His expression was all innocent. “I always have a strategy.”
Before she could argue, he took her hand and stepped into a waltz. No music. Just the hush of the waves beyond the cliffs.
His hand at her back was steady, and for the first time, she let herself simply exist in the moment.
They moved slowly, the dance becoming something deeper than just steps.
She wasn’t certain when the awareness between them shifted into something grander, something unspoken. But she felt it. And so did he.
As the dance ended, he didn’t let go of her hand. Instead, he studied her, something waiting in his gaze.
“I am not leaving, Honoria.”
She inhaled, steadying herself. She knew what he meant. He had chosen her. He was waiting for her to do the same. Her pulse thrummed, the weight of the moment pressing into her.
She wanted to say something, to claim him, to let him know she wasn’t going anywhere either. But she hesitated. And he saw it.
He didn’t push. He only held her hand a moment longer before finally letting go. As they stepped apart, the moment lingered, stretching between them. Then, he turned, walking ahead of her. She watched him go, the air thick with an unspoken question.
Was she brave enough to answer it?
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