Page 26 of Sweet Duke of Mine

A VICAR WHO ISN’T A CAT

A lastair and Daisy were not, as it turned out, left alone for long.

After Gilbert had resolutely decided to go to school—remarkably unfazed, all things considered—and the inspector and his men had finally cleared the body from her shop, yet another storm arrived at her doorstep.

Mrs. Farley bustled in without preamble, eyes sharp, already spouting questions as she set down her basket. “What in blazes happened here? The whole street is buzzing, and I’ll not be left in the dark.”

Daisy sighed, rubbing her temples. “Good morning, Mrs. Farley.”

“Morning is long gone, Daisy. Now, out with it.” She folded her arms expectantly.

Alastair, standing beside Daisy, murmured near her ear, “Is she always this subtle?”

Daisy fought a smile. “Not in the slightest.”

Of course, their neighbor had witnessed everything from her front window. Even the most reserved person would have been curious about the morning’s commotion—gunfire, shouting, and then a dead body carted away by an army of the new police force.

At least this time, Alastair was properly dressed. In the apparel Daisy had mended, he looked every inch the duke.

Daisy, on the other hand, hadn’t had a moment to fix her hair or change into a clean gown, but she made no apologies as she endured Mrs. Farley’s inquisition.

Which was more than a little tricky, considering her neighbor still believed Alastair to be her long-lost husband.

Daisy carefully confessed that Alastair had not, in fact, been sailing around the world. And that he wasn’t really a commoner but was—well…a gentleman.

But as the minutes dragged on, Alastair’s patience thinned.

The moment Mrs. Farley set down her empty teacup, he seized the opportunity to bring the visit to a close.

“Thank you so much for your concern,” he said smoothly, already guiding her toward the door. “Daisy will send for you if she finds herself in need of your sage wisdom.”

Before the older woman could utter another word, he had her outside, bid her farewell, and shut the door with a decisive click of the lock.

Rather dashing of him, really.

Daisy exhaled. “Thank you.”

“You never have to thank me,” he said, watching her intently. “For anything.” A shadow passed over his face. “In fact, all of this is my fault. I put Gilbert in danger. I put you in danger. And it wasn’t the first time.”

“You were fighting for your life, and your uncle was all you had left. How could you have known he would betray you like he did?”

“I took him at his word,” Alastair admitted. “I shouldn’t have. Deep down, I should have known that you never would have left if you hadn’t had to. ”

Daisy swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I could have followed you.”

But she hadn’t. She had let fear and uncertainty hold her back.

“We were too young to know what we had or how to hold onto it.” Alastair pushed off the wall and crossed the room. But instead of sitting beside her, he swept her up into his arms.

Right where she wanted to be.

“We’re wiser now,” he murmured, carrying her effortlessly from the dining room and up the stairs.

“I should hope so,” she teased, looping her arms around his neck.

His lips quirked, but there was something fierce and determined in his gaze as he lowered her onto the bed.

Then, sitting beside her, he took her hand, tracing the lines of her palm with his fingertips, as if mapping out their future.

“I believe I’ve had enough of London to last a lifetime,” he said, voice low.

Daisy tilted her head, waiting. “Oh?”

His eyes lifted to meet hers, raw and sincere. “I want to spend time in the country. With my wife . I want her to have time to come to terms with being my duchess.”

The depth of his conviction took her breath. It reminded her of the boy she had fallen in love with—a young heir who had spoken of forever with the certainty of a fairy tale. But back then, his promises had been woven with hope, not experience. And in the end, it hadn’t been enough.

Now he was a man. A duke. And this time, he would see it through.

Daisy licked her lips.

“You wish to take a wife to Woodland Priory?” She was ninety-nine percent sure of his meaning, but she needed to hear him say it .

Because yes, he’d said as much before—but that was before…

“I do,” he confirmed. “Because it’s where we fell in love. And I’d like to renew our vows.” One side of his mouth curved into a wry smile. “With a vicar who isn’t a cat. And a legal certificate. We’ll make it official.”

Her heart swelled. Woodland Priory. Home.

Giant, happy tears swelled in her throat.

“If you’re asking what I think you’re asking…” She inhaled deeply, then exhaled with certainty. “I’d love that.”

His thumb brushed over her knuckles. “So, you’ll marry me?”

“Yes.”

Relief flickered across his features before he pulled her close, his lips capturing hers. “We have so much time to make up for,” he murmured against her mouth. “So many kisses…”

“And more,” she whispered.

Their lips parted, and Alastair cradled her face in his hands.

“I lost you once, and that never should have happened,” he said. “I was reckless to trust my uncle with my heart, with my legacy. Going forward, I want to be more involved at the Priory. I can’t change the past, but I can make better choices for the future.”

“I like the sound of that.” Daisy traced a finger along his jaw, her smile growing. “I can still make my soaps.”

“You can do whatever you like,” he vowed.

She could teach the tenant wives her craft—help them earn a better livelihood for their families.

“I’ll hire a tutor for Gilbert,” Alastair added. “And when he’s ready, if he chooses, we can send him to Eton.”

Daisy’s breath caught. It was surreal, making plans for a future she had never allowed herself to dream of. And yet, here they were.

And today, right now, they were alone .

She searched his face. “Are you sure?”

Alastair’s eyes burned with conviction. “More than ever.”

She would finally belong to him. And he would belong to her.

“My sweet duke,” she whispered.

She reached for him, captured his mouth in a kiss that tasted of love, of promise.

“Sweet duke of mine.”