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S everal days had passed since Ailas had seen the duke.

She was starting to think of him as Jonas in her mind because they had become closer during her stay at Langford Hall.

In truth, she missed him terribly. However, her days would now be filled with preparations for the Christmas ball coming upon them within a couple of days, so she had to concentrate her attention on this important vicarage affair and not on the handsome man who was suddenly filling her daily thoughts and nightly dreams.

“Where shall I put this wreath, Miss Temple?” asked Hanford, the young footman the duke had sent over to help with the Christmas preparations.

The duke had also sent Jane, the friendly girl who had been given the care of Ailis while at his home, to assist with her own personal grooming in addition to lending assistance setting up the tables and stalls, and fashioning the decorative boughs of holly and ivy, bay and laurel, that would go up on Christmas Eve around the vicarage’s manse and church.

“Set it on the long table for now,” she said, pleased with how well things were progressing.

Other villagers had come by to assist, and there was to be a decorating party held after the church service on Christmas Eve for those who had volunteered for the final setting up.

Seeing as things were well under control, Ailis decided to walk over to the village bakery to review the order she had placed with them yesterday.

Having them bake all the cakes, pies, and other sweets took an enormous weight off her shoulders, since this was the most time-consuming chore she had taken upon herself in the prior years.

But with her arm still quite sore and immobilized in a sling, even something as simple as kneading dough or stirring batter was not possible for her to accomplish.

The duke rode up on his massive steed, Avalon, just as she walked out of the vicarage on her way to speak to the baker. He dismounted with graceful ease, tethered his mount to a fence post, and strode toward her.

“Dear heaven,” she muttered, thinking he looked quite warrior-like and magnificent with his dark cloak swirling around his body in the stiff breeze and his dark eyes trained on her.

“Miss Temple,” he said, his voice deep and seductive.

“Good morning, Your Grace.” She smiled up at him, squinting slightly as she faced the sun that was shining brightly on this crisp winter’s day, its rays glinting through the leafless trees and reflecting off the surrounding snow.

“Going on errands?”

She nodded. “Just to the bakery to make certain they shall have all I ordered ready in time for the Christmas festivities.”

“I’ll walk with you.”

“An excellent idea. Then you shall see what I have charged to your account. I hope it is not too much.”

“It won’t be,” he assured her.

“That is quite generous of you.” She tipped her chin up to stare at him, for she had never known him to be quite this loose with his purse strings.

Not that she would ever regard him as a skinflint, but he was now opening his purse up to her seemingly without limitation.

Of course, she would never take unfair advantage.

Perhaps he knew this and felt comfortable placing his trust in her.

“It is something I can easily afford.” They ambled along the village’s high street side by side. “You’ll let me know if you require more.”

She glanced up at him, again surprised by his continued generosity. “We’ll do nicely with what you have given us, but thank you for offering. May I ask, what has brought about this remarkable change in you?”

“Perhaps it is your kisses that have pried my coffers loose.”

She blushed. “But those were for a set sum, and you are now going above and beyond that already generous donation.”

He shrugged. “Perhaps I am realizing just how much I have been missing by keeping myself closed off at Langford Hall. How is your arm, Ailis?”

She nudged aside her cloak a moment to show him that her arm was still bound. “Still a little sore, but it is doing much better. I dare not remove the sling until you give me the nod.”

“I’ll have a better look at it when we return to the vicarage.”

They were almost at the bakery now, and the delicious scent of freshly baked bread and cherry pies cooling on the ledges wafted toward them and made her mouth water. She hadn’t bothered with breakfast this morning, since she had only managed to fall asleep without pain in the wee hours.

Then, the next thing she knew, Jane was at her bedchamber door informing her the volunteers had arrived to finish building the stalls and make the wreaths and boughs.

With Jane’s assistance, Ailis had quickly washed and dressed, and then run to the church to get everyone started on their assignments.

Only now had she caught up from her late start.

“How are you faring at Langford Hall?” she asked, curious as to what Jonas had been doing since her appearance at his dinner party.

In an act of defiance, which seemed silly to her now, she had made herself look as eccentric as possible.

Her intention was to irritate him and make him realize she did not belong at his elegant table rubbing elbows with the elite of Society.

Instead, he had taken her under his protective wing, kept her seated beside him, and seemed most comfortable having her by his side.

“The young lovelies are still chasing me, but I am doing my best to ignore them. Edward and his friends have been invaluable in distracting them. After all, his friends have bet on my not marrying, and will do all they can to collect on that wager. If these ladies are the best Society has to offer, then their win is assured. I shall never marry any of them.”

Ailis turned silent, for what he really meant was that he would never marry at all.

She knew she was never in contention, so his statement should not have affected her. Yet it did. These past few days, she had ached for his company and could not stop thinking of what life might be like for her if she were to marry him.

It was all fantasy, of course. This dream she had of sharing his days and nights would never come true.

Perhaps this ache had grown stronger now that she was back at the vicarage because she had spent so much time in his bed.

And enjoyed his kisses.

Which brought to mind they had not gone beyond kiss number five.

“Ailis, you are nibbling your lip. Is something wrong?”

“No, just thinking. It is nothing.” But her mind had now drifted to those charity kisses he had given her.

With only three more days and five kisses left to go, would she get her ten kisses before the Christmas ball? It wasn’t about the donations, for she knew the good sort of man he was. He would donate the full one thousand pounds whether they got to ten kisses or not.

He leaned closer to open the bakery door for her, his breath tickling her ear as they were momentarily close. He looked so handsome with the touch of silver salted in his hair, and the lovely breadth of his shoulders that were nicely muscled.

The little bell above the door tinkled to alert the proprietor he had customers.

“Your Grace. Miss Temple. An honor to have you here. What can I do for you?” the portly baker asked, mopping his forehead as he bustled toward them from the back room, where his ovens were going at full blast and filling his shop with the divine scents of apple, cinnamon, cherries, and honey.

“Miss Temple is fretting that she has not ordered enough pies and cakes for the Christmas ball,” the duke said. “We have come to add to the order.”

Ailis shook her head. “I merely intended to review the list and make certain all would be ready in time.”

The duke had other ideas, however. “I think you will need to expand on it,” he said, after perusing her order.

“I intend to bring all my guests to the festivities and shall be giving most of my staff time off to attend, too. What do you think, Mr. Cardew? Should we double the order? And add a few savory pies along with the sweet?”

The baker’s eyes twinkled. “I think it is an excellent idea. It will be done, Your Grace. Never you worry, for Miss Temple shall have a feast worthy of a king.”

“Good.” Having decided upon this, Jonas turned to Ailis, who was still protesting that it was too much. “Miss Temple,” he said with ducal authority, “if anything is left over, then distribute the excess among those in need. Do you have a problem with this suggestion?”

She cast him a generous smile and shook her head. “No problem at all, Your Grace. My uncle and I will attend to it.”

They lingered a while longer in the bakery, since the duke had decided to sample some of the fare to be provided for the Christmas ball.

Mr. Cardew set out plates for both of them at a small table in the corner of his shop.

There was only the one table with two spindly chairs beside it, for his patrons were merely meant to stop in, pick out their purchases, and be on their way.

The village tea shop was just across the street from his bakery, so if anyone wanted to sample his wares, they had only to stop in there and have a proper tea service.

But this little table up against the wall was fine for their purposes, and Ailis spent the most enjoyable fifteen minutes she had experienced in an age.

The duke was delightful and attentive to her. The pie samples were delicious, and she particularly enjoyed the slice of cherry pie that was the best thing she had ever tasted.

Jonas grinned as he watched her. “Shall I have Mr. Cardew bring you another slice?”

She laughed. “Oh, no. I shall burst if I take another bite.”

“I gather this one was your favorite.”

“Yes, but all the samples were delicious, weren’t they?”

He nodded. “I think I must congratulate Mr. Cardew.”

Ailis agreed. “He will appreciate your approval.”

Of course, he was devastating when he laid on the charm. Mr. Cardew, his wife, and his workers were in the duke’s thrall by the time she and Jonas left the shop.