She glanced around the duke’s elegant bedchamber.

“Just look at this room. The mahogany wainscoting alone is worth more than the entirety of the home where I grew up. If His Grace ever decides to marry, he will choose one of his ilk. A duke’s daughter, perhaps.

If the girl is very pretty, he might be persuaded to offer for an earl’s daughter or that of a viscount. I doubt he would ever look lower.”

Martha sighed. “I suppose you are right. But he is above forty now and graying at the temples. Still quite handsome, but growing more set in his ways with each passing year. I don’t know if he will ever marry, so it is all idle consideration.”

Ailis pursed her lips. “Has he always been this reclusive? You’ve been with the family a very long time. What was he like when he was younger?”

Martha walked over to the tray she had brought in and set on a side table. She began to fuss with the fare, cutting a soft bun, putting it on a plate, and then pouring a cup of tea for Ailis. “These are for you, lamb. Get a little sustenance in you before you fall asleep for the night.”

“All right, but will you not tell me a little about the duke in his younger days?” Ailis took a sip of the offered tea and nibbled on the bun, sparing a smile for Martha when she took a seat beside her bed.

“Oh, he was quite the dashing lad. Handsome as sin. Always the handsomest boy, even as an infant. He used to laugh more often than he does now.”

Ailis nodded. “He so rarely laughs.”

“He used to enjoy parties and was considered quite the rake. But all that changed when he returned from the war.”

Ailis set aside her tea. “The war changed many men, as I expect all such brutal conflagrations do. But he was already here when I first arrived, so he did not stay on and fight to the end at Waterloo.”

“His years of service were mostly in Spain, in the earlier years of the war. His father was alive and duke at the time. You ought to have heard the row when his son came to him and said he’d bought his commission.

As eldest, he ought to have stayed home and prepared to take over the Ramsdale holdings, but he had been working alongside his father for years and claimed he already knew what needed to be done. ”

“Still, it would all go to naught if he died.”

Martha nodded. “This is exactly what his father argued. But I think His Grace enlisted because he was afraid his younger brother would be sent off. You know, first is the heir. Second is for the military. But Edward, the younger boy, was too gentle a soul and His Grace feared the lad would never survive.”

“I see. He enlisted to protect the younger sibling.” Ailis was not surprised to learn of this, for the duke did have keenly protective instincts.

She had berated him about his lack of involvement with his subjects when scrounging for his contributions, but it was not completely true.

He was not socially involved, but did take good care of those in his demesne in most other respects.

The problem of absorbing all the unemployed soldiers returning from war was something almost every town in England had to deal with and would not be quickly solved.

“He returned to Broadmoor only a few weeks before you arrived at your uncle’s vicarage.

The duke won’t ever talk about his years abroad, but he was taken prisoner toward the end of his tour of service in Spain.

It was during one of those awful, bloody battles to claim a bridge that was vital to Napoleon’s army. ”

Ailis was quite familiar with the efforts it took to push the French out of Portugal and Spain. Indeed, painfully aware.

“Several of our village boys died over there, although a few made it home and credited His Grace for their survival.”

“This should have pleased him.”

“I’m sure it did. But that year he spent as a prisoner of the French took a terrible toll on him.

He managed to escape after several thwarted attempts, and then reported straight to the War Office in London.

Only after giving them all the information he had gathered did he come home to Langdon Hall.

He has never spoken a word about his time in captivity or his battle wounds that must have run deep.

It has been six years since he came home and closed himself off to one and all. ”

“No wonder he knows so much about mending bones. How badly was he injured while in the army?”

“Quite badly, Miss Temple. Indeed, we were all so worried about him.”

Ailis inhaled sharply. “Oh dear.”

“It is not something we spread about. The duke is entitled to his privacy. I think this is why he will not retain the services of a valet. He does not like anyone to look at his scars.”

“How awful are they?” How stupid of her not to realize that, of course, he must have quite a few of them. One did not spend time in captivity without incurring injuries both physical and spiritual.

“Quite bad, it is rumored.”

Ailis had never seen physical signs of them, but they were probably hidden beneath his clothes.

“This is why he always bathes and dresses on his own. Always keeps to himself.”

Ailis cleared her throat. “But he has a reputation with the ladies. Do they not… Surely they must have seen… him .” She cleared her throat again. “You know… naked .”

Martha rolled her eyes. “You are an innocent lamb, aren’t you?”

Ailis pinched her lips, refusing to acknowledge the comment. The duke had remarked much the same.

“Men do not have to remove their clothes to do the deed,” Martha went on, no doubt deciding that Ailis needed to be educated. “They just unbutton their falls and lift the lady’s skirts. Quick. Done.”

Perhaps Ailis was more innocent than she realized. “And that’s it?”

“For those sort of encounters and that sort of woman ready to slake his urges. He might tug down her top to get at her bosom, too. But—”

“Oh, Martha! That is more than I need to know. Is there no hugging or sharing of hearts?”

“Hugging? Sharing?” She gave a trill of laughter. “No, lamb. Not for him or those women. That’s just how he wants it to remain.”

“It sounds awful, quite sad and lonely.”

“His Grace does not seem to mind. He does not want any deep connection, just a quick tumble whenever the urge strikes.”

“I think I would mind very much. What is the point of giving yourself away for nothing in return?”

“I agree, but not everyone can afford to be principled. A coin goes a long way when one is starving and needs to buy food. Not that he is one to seek out brothels or a lightskirt off the streets. No, he has plenty of elegant ladies eager to perform this service just for the sake of having him.”

“Ugh. That still sounds horrible.”

Martha shrugged. “We are fortunate in being so well settled. I have a good position here and I have my Henry. He’s more than enough for me, so who am I to judge what others do?

Henry’s a funny-looking soul, but he’s mine, and that’s more than most others have.

He’s a hard worker, too. Well, each finds their own measure of comfort. ”

Ailis gave Martha’s words some thought.

What if she died without ever finding any comfort? Were her standards set too high? She wanted to marry for love, but no man had come along to win her heart. What if she never found him and never experienced the wonder of love?

Perhaps this was the reason she looked forward to the duke’s kisses. If true love was to escape her, then why not indulge in a harmless pretense of it?

Perhaps he felt it, too. And wanted the distraction of sharing kisses with his Miss Temple of Virtue.

Despite his claiming he would melt her with his kisses, she knew there would never be anything serious between them.

However, she had to be careful not to lose her heart to him. This game would end quite unhappily for her if this ever happened.

She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep to the crackle and hiss of the warming fire. It took her a while to finally find a comfortable position and feel something other than excruciating pain. Once she was able to rest, other sensations filled her senses.

The first was the sandalwood scent of the duke on his sheets. It was a nice, soothing aroma, a blend of earthy wood and light citrus that put her heart in a flutter. Perhaps this was why her heart misbehaved every time she was near him lately.

He always smelled so good.

In truth, all the ladies noticed this and spoke of it whenever they gathered in church.

These discussions were always in hushed tones, of course.

The duke must have thought it quite odd when ladies started sniffing as he walked by.

Even she had done it on one or two occasions, for the mix of his maleness and the woodsy scent of his skin was too enticing to resist. “So good,” she muttered. “So good.”

“Temple, what is so good?” the duke asked.

Her eyes flicked open in alarm.

What had she said in her dream? “What?”

“You were smiling and muttering about something being ‘so good.’”

Heat shot up her neck and into her face. “I have no idea. Perhaps the ginger cake you offered me yesterday when I stopped in to pester you for a donation. It was delicious.”

He grinned. “If you say so.”

“What time is it?” She tried to sit up, but he placed a hand lightly on her uninjured shoulder to stop her.

“Almost noon. I was beginning to think you would sleep through the entire day. Not that it matters, because it is still snowing hard and you are not going anywhere. Let me help you, if you insist on sitting up. I don’t want you hurting yourself.

” He leaned in close and circled his arms around her body to gently shift her into an upright position.

His hands felt divine, so big and warm and rough.

“Better?”

She nodded.

And tried hard not to inhale his magical scent that also held a trace of male heat. But she could not stop herself from breathing him in.

She sniffed, trying to mask it as more of a sniffle.

He frowned. “Are you coming down with a cold?”