Page 34 of Taken by the Icy Duke (Marriage Deals #3)

One Year Later

The gentle hush of the countryside enveloped every corner of Rivenhall’s summer estate, far from London’s bustle. In the warm, late afternoon sun, Diana strolled across the manicured lawn, her newborn daughter nestled securely against her chest. The baby’s soft cooing rose above the distant chirping of birds. Diana felt a tranquil joy that reached deep into her bones.

A small blanket lay spread on a patch of grass near a clump of flowering shrubs. Diana carefully lowered herself there, taking a seat on its edge while cradling her child. The rustle of her cotton gown blended with the faint breeze, the air scented with hints of lavender and wild roses. This place reminded her of her girlhood home but was undeniably Rivenhall’s estate, newly bloomed with hope.

Gilbert had insisted they pass this season in the country, away from the press of the ton and their unrelenting gossip. Diana had agreed wholeheartedly, especially once the baby had arrived. Now, nearly three-months old, the infant exhibited a blossoming curiosity about the world, wide-eyed and fascinated by the swaying leaves overhead. Diana smiled, brushing her fingertips across her child’s silky hair.

“You appear content,” a gentle voice spoke, coming from the gravel path beyond the shrubs. Gilbert approached, carefully stepping onto the blanket. He lowered himself beside Diana, his gaze instantly drawn to their daughter.

“She is quite alert today,” he said, and offered a soft grin. “I heard her babbling from halfway across the garden.”

Diana let out a quiet laugh, shifting so he could see their daughter more clearly.

“She has discovered the music of her own voice,” she said. “You should have heard her chattering at dawn. I believe she tried to recite her grievances with the nursery maid.”

He chuckled, reaching out a hand to lightly stroke the baby’s tiny fingers.

“I have no doubt she will out-argue us both in due time,” he said. “I am grateful we are away from London. I can hardly imagine confining her in that townhouse with so little fresh air.”

Diana nodded, contentment warming her chest. “I feel the same,” she said, shifting to tuck in a stray fold of the baby’s blanket. “She thrives here, and I do as well. We needed the quiet.”

He edged closer until his shoulder brushed Diana’s. With loving reverence, he placed a hand on her back.

“Your wellbeing has given me more relief than I can ever express,” he said. “I recall how ill you seemed in those last weeks before her birth. I was half beside myself with worry.”

She remembered those final tense days and the anxiety around her complicated pregnancy.

“You were not alone in that worry,” she said, letting her gaze drift across the rolling lawns. “But everything has turned out better than I dared hope.”

“I love you,” he said, dropping his voice. “Every day, I wake and feel astonished by how far we have come.” He studied her face with a mix of gratitude and lingering awe.

Diana lifted her free hand to rest on his cheek.

“I love you too,” she said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. The baby gurgled in protest at the interruption of attention, earning a warm laugh from them both.

As if on cue, footsteps crunched along the path. Diana looked up to see Leopold approaching, dressed in casual country attire, a cane in his left hand. He offered them a broad, tentative smile.

He said, “I heard there was a small gathering among the blossoms. I hoped I may join.”

Diana gestured with a welcoming nod.

“Of course,” she said. “We were only enjoying the sunshine.”

Leopold settled on a low wooden bench near the blanket. The baby cooed again, turning her head as though sensing a new presence.

“She grows lovelier by the day,” he said kindly.

Gilbert turned to Leopold and grinned proudly.

“She is quite the charmer,” he said, though his tone carried only goodwill, very different from the tension that had once divided the brothers.

Diana smiled at Leopold.

“How has your walk been?” she asked. “You have roamed half the estate by now, I suspect.”

He tapped his cane lightly on the grass.

“Yes, the fresh air benefits me,” he said. “In truth, I came from the house because I have news. The final inquiry regarding Josephine’s rumors has been resolved. No more vexing talk remains to plague you both.”

Diana felt a wash of relief. “So, Josephine has truly ceased her efforts?”

Leopold nodded. “Indeed. Ever since Gilbert confronted her, she has withdrawn. No fresh gossip. According to a mutual contact, she even left London for the continent.” He paused, his eyes flicking to Gilbert. “I believe your threat ensured she will never trouble you again.”

Gilbert’s jaw tightened briefly at the memory.

“It was necessary. I do not regret it. She nearly destroyed everything we hold dear.” He glanced down, brushing his hand over the baby’s head. “Now we can move on.”

Diana bent to kiss the baby’s forehead, drawing in the faint scent of milk and newly laundered linen.

“I am thankful for that,” she said quietly. “We can focus on this new life and forget the poisonous seeds that Josephine sowed.”

Leopold sighed, a glimmer of contrition crossing his face. “I am sorry I ever brought scandal upon the two of you,” he said. “I hope I have atoned somewhat by aiding in the resolution.”

Gilbert shook his head. “We have come through many trials,” he said, “but I no longer blame you.” He offered a faint smile. “We are a family still.”

Diana watched Leopold’s shoulders relax and relief fill his eyes. “Thank you,” he said, resting his cane across his knees. “I plan to remain here for a while, if you do not mind. The atmosphere here is far preferable to London’s sordid gossip.”

Diana extended her free hand, palm outward.

“We would be delighted,” she said. “Stay as long as you wish. Perhaps you might even find your own corner of peace among these gardens.”

Leopold bowed his head in gratitude.

“Then I shall leave you three to enjoy this moment,” he said, rising with care. “I have letters to pen in any event.” He ambled off, cane tapping, leaving the family to the day.

Gilbert’s gaze followed Leopold’s retreat with an unmistakable softness in his expression.

“Time changes everything,” he said, turning back to Diana and the baby. “I never envisioned us thus—sitting in a garden, at peace.”

Diana nodded.

“Nor did I,” she said. “At one time I thought we would remain locked in our separate worlds.” She let her shoulders relax, leaning into Gilbert’s side. “I am glad we found each other.”

He dipped his head, placing a slow, affectionate kiss against her temple. The baby wriggled, making a soft fussing noise, so Diana gently shifted her hold.

“She must be hungry,” Diana said, rising carefully. “Let us return inside. I will feed her, then perhaps we might stroll along the orchard path.”

Gilbert stood, offering an arm for support.

“You read my mind,” he said, guiding her back across the lawn. The baby’s mild cries escalated as they entered the house through a side door. Warm servants’ smiles greeted them.

A maid curtsied. “Your Grace, shall I bring fresh tea to your sitting room?” she asked.

Diana nodded gratefully.

“Yes, please,” she said, cradling the baby. “And perhaps some biscuits.”

Gilbert led the way up a short flight of steps toward a cozy sitting room near the nursery. Diana followed, her heart filling with quiet joy.

The estate’s high windows let in ample sunshine, illuminating the corridor’s painted landscapes. The child’s soft wail quickened, prompting Diana to hurry.

Once in the sitting room, she sat on a cushioned armchair, beginning to nurse the baby in relative privacy while Gilbert stood by the window. She marveled at the sense of normalcy in such an act. Only months ago, fear and secrets had defined their marriage. Now, even the simplest family moment felt like a blessing.

He turned from the window. “I recall a time when I believed fatherhood meant reliving my old nightmares,” he said, his voice hushed so as not to disturb the nursing. “But watching you with her, I feel… hope, not dread.”

Diana met his gaze. “You are forging a new path,” she said gently. “I believe you will be a wonderful father. Your care already shows.”

He let out a small laugh, stepping closer.

“I try to hide my clumsiness,” he said, a self-deprecating smile curving his mouth. “The nursemaid laughs whenever I attempt to swaddle her. I can never get the folds right.”

Diana felt a wave of affection.

“You do better than you think,” she said. “The important part is your presence. She recognizes your voice, you know.”

He peered down at their daughter, who had begun to drift into a contented doze after her feed. Gilbert exhaled softly.

“She is so small,” he said, his voice laced with awe. “I love her more than I can put into words.”

Diana’s breath caught at his confession. “I love seeing you love her,” she said, blinking through happy tears. “Truly, it heals a part of me I never knew was so wounded.”

He sank onto a footstool beside her, resting a hand atop hers. The sated baby nestled quietly, her lashes fluttering in her dreams. Diana let her eyes roam over the baby’s delicate features and her soft cheeks, feeling surges of adoration and maternal protectiveness.

After a spell of tranquil silence, the maid entered with a small tray of steaming tea, biscuits, and a bowl of fresh strawberries. Gilbert thanked her quietly, then helped pour a cup for Diana. The warm aroma of tea mingled with the faint floral breeze drifting from the open window.

She settled back, sipping carefully. “I never imagined we would find such peace in a simple day at home,” she said, observing the calm scene. “I used to dread every social event, every rumor. Now, it is all behind us.”

He nodded, a content smile curling his lips. “Though we might endure the ton again in future Seasons,” he said, “I doubt any rumor can harm us now.”

She studied him a moment. “You have changed, Gilbert,” she said. “Not merely in fatherhood but in your readiness to connect; to speak your heart. It is an unexpected gift.”

He let out a low chuckle, his eyes bright.

“I once thought I would never need to speak such feelings,” he admitted. “But you drew them out, piece by piece. Now, I am grateful you did.”

Their conversation paused as the baby stirred. Diana adjusted her hold, rising to place her in the small bassinet by the settee. The baby fussed for a moment, then settled. Gilbert watched with a tender expression, still half in disbelief.

He wrapped an arm around Diana’s shoulders, his voice turning soft.

“Tomorrow, I thought we might take a carriage ride around the estate, if you feel strong enough,” he said. “We have a new orchard planting by the far fields.”

She smiled up at him, remembering how orchard blossoms once symbolized distant dreams.

“I would love that,” she said, her heart buoyed. “I wish to see everything we have built. And let our daughter see it too, eventually.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple.

“You shall indeed,” he said. “I will show her every corner of Rivenhall’s land as she grows, perhaps even teach her to ride, though I suppose I shall worry every second.”

A soft laugh escaped Diana.

“It is a father’s right to worry,” she said, settling into his embrace. “But I will be there with you, reminding you that life can be cherished without fear dictating every step.”

His gaze moved to the sleeping child in the bassinet, his tears making his dark eyes glisten.

“Yes,” he murmured, his voice hitching slightly, “I have learned that from you.”

They lingered there in the quiet hush of midday, the sunlight through the window casting gentle patterns on the floor. She breathed in the contentment of the moment, remembering the uncertain nights in London’s parlors and the heavy dread that once marked her every breath. Now, that dread felt distant, replaced by complete confidence in the love that blossomed despite every vow and secret.

“Let me see if you can be stolen away for a moment,” he said, rising to set his teacup aside. He extended his hand to her. “The nursemaid can watch her. I wish for a small stroll in the garden with you—just us.”

She glanced at their daughter, sleeping peacefully. A quiet pang made her reluctant to leave, but then she reminded herself that the child would be safe. The nursemaid was down the corridor, and they would not go far. She nodded, sliding her hand into his. “I would like that,” she said.

They tiptoed out, leaving the baby to slumber peacefully. In the corridor, the nursemaid approached, already aware that the little one was dozing. Diana exchanged a brief word, requesting the nursemaid to keep watch. Gilbert led Diana through the breezy passage and out to the veranda overlooking the estate’s rear garden.

He paused, turning to face her, his hands gently settling on her waist. “I choose you every day,” he said, his voice steady with devotion. “And I shall continue doing so through each challenge and each triumph.”

They strolled onward, the path winding around a small fountain, then passing a low stone wall.

He looked at her, his brow faintly creased with an emotion she recognized. Love, unguarded and strong. “You have given me far more than I ever thought I could have,” he said.

She let tears glisten in her eyes, leaning down to kiss his brow. “And you have given me a future of hope,” she said. “No vow or fear could stop it now.” In that moment Diana knew that all the pain, secrets, and heartbreak they had once endured had withered away. Their life together had blossomed into a joy worth every trial, and that the life they brought into the world would grow; healthy, happy, and free of shadows.

Diana realized contentedly that all the pain, secrets, and heartbreak they had once endured had withered away. Their life together had blossomed into a joy that was worth every trial, and the child they had brought into the world would be healthy, happy, and free of shadows.

The End