Page 36 of The Spinster and Her Rakish Duke (The Athena Society #3)
The children brightened immediately, Heather executing another of her careful curtsies. “It’s very pretty, Your Grace. There are ducks and sometimes a heron that stands very still in the shallows.”
“Most impressive,” Ewan replied with grave courtesy that made the girl blush with pleasure. “We should be honored to have such knowledgeable guides.”
As they set off along the narrow path that wound behind the cottage, Percy fell into step beside Samantha, his usual exuberance tempered into thoughtful contemplation.
“I never attended a village school,” he remarked, watching the children who skipped ahead, pointing out various features of the landscape to Ewan. “Father engaged tutors for me at home.”
“As did mine,” Samantha replied, surprised by this rare mention of his parents. Percy spoke often and fondly of Ewan, but rarely of his father or mother. “Though Jane and I did join the vicar’s daughters for music and drawing lessons.”
“I sometimes wondered what it might be like,” Percy continued, his gaze distant now. “To learn alongside other children, to have companions beyond the servants’ children who were only permitted to play with me when my tutors were absent.”
The wistfulness in his voice touched something in Samantha’s heart. “It was lonely for you,” she said softly, not a question but a recognition.
Percy shrugged, a gesture too casual to be entirely genuine. “I had my books, my imagination. And after Mother and Father died, I had Uncle Ewan, though he was often in London on business.”
Samantha glanced ahead to where her husband walked between the two village children, listening attentively as they chattered about local flora and fauna.
He had bent his tall frame slightly to better hear their excited explanations, his expression one of genuine interest rather than merely polite attention.
“He loves you very much,” she said, knowing with absolute certainty that it was true. Whatever Ewan’s fears about inheritance and bloodlines, his devotion to his nephew was undeniable.
Percy’s smile brightened. “I know. Though he expresses it primarily through exasperation and stern lectures on proper behavior.”
“The hallmarks of true affection,” Samantha agreed with a laugh. “My father was much the same. Convinced that critical observation was the highest form of love.”
“Father was different,” Percy said after a moment. “Gentler in his guidance. Mother too, though she worried constantly about my health. I was rather sickly as a young child.”
This revelation surprised Samantha, given Percy’s current robust appearance. “I would never have guessed. You seem the picture of health now.”
“Uncle Ewan’s influence,” Percy explained. “He insisted I learn to ride, to fence, to swim—all the physical pursuits Father had been too cautious to encourage. Said a future duke needed a strong body to match his mind.”
The image of Ewan patiently teaching a frail boy to master such activities, building his confidence along with his strength, formed vividly in Samantha’s mind.
It was yet another facet of the complex man she had married, the stern exterior concealing a depth of care that manifested in practical action rather than effusive words.
“He was right,” she said simply. “Though I suspect your mind remains your greatest strength, especially when you apply it to teaching rather than composing odes to debutantes’ eyebrows.”
Percy laughed, the sound carrying ahead to where Ewan turned, his questioning glance meeting Samantha’s with an intimacy that required no words. She smiled in response, a private communication that spoke of shared understanding and growing affection.
The millpond, when they reached it, proved as picturesque as promised.
A placid expanse of water reflecting the blue spring sky, bordered by willows whose trailing branches created dappled patterns of sunlight on the surface.
A pair of ducks paddled serenely near the center, while dragonflies darted among the reeds at the edges.
“It’s beautiful,” Samantha breathed, already envisioning how the view might inspire young minds to poetry or art. “What a wonderful setting for a school.”
“I told you,” Heather said with quiet pride, slipping her small hand into Samantha’s as naturally as if they had known each other for years rather than hours. “The heron isn’t here today, but perhaps he’ll come when you visit again.”
“I should like that very much,” Samantha replied, touched by the child’s assumption that this would not be her only visit to the village, that the duchess would return to see the progress of the school and perhaps to witness the daily life of the children who would benefit from it.
As they stood there, the spring breeze ruffling the surface of the pond into small ripples, Samantha felt a profound sense of rightness, as if the scattered pieces of her life were finally falling into a pattern that made sense.
Here was purpose beyond the narrow confines of aristocratic duty; here was connection with the wider world that her sheltered upbringing had often denied her.
And beside her stood the man who had made it possible, not merely through his rank and resources, but through his willingness to see her as a partner rather than merely a convenient solution to a scandal. The man who, against all expectations, had become the center of her world.
When his hand found hers, their fingers intertwining with familiar ease, she didn’t pull away despite the presence of Percy and the children. Instead, she allowed herself to lean slightly against his solid strength, accepting the support he offered so freely now.
“Shall we begin the work next week?” he asked quietly, his voice pitched for her ears alone.
“Yes,” she replied, the simple word carrying the weight of her commitment not just to this project, but to the life they were building together.
A life richer and more fulfilling than she had ever dared to hope for when she had reluctantly accepted his proposal.
As they made their way back to the carriage, Percy once again entertaining the children with elaborate descriptions of the constellations visible in the night sky, Samantha caught Ewan watching his nephew with an expression that mingled pride, affection, and perhaps a touch of wonder.
“He surprised you today,” she observed, keeping her voice low.
“In the most pleasant way possible,” Ewan admitted. “I’ve always known he possessed intelligence beneath all that… enthusiasm. But to see him apply it so effectively with the children…”
“He has depths you haven’t yet plumbed,” Samantha suggested gently. “Perhaps, like his uncle, he simply needs the right circumstances to reveal his true character.”
Ewan’s gaze shifted to her then, green eyes warm with an emotion that made her breath catch. “And what of you, my tigress? Have I plumbed your depths sufficiently, or do you still harbor secrets that might surprise me?”
The intimate tenor of his question sent a shiver of awareness through her despite the innocent surroundings and the bright spring day.
“I believe, Your Grace,” she replied with a smile that held promise for the privacy they would share later, “that there are always new discoveries to be made between a husband and wife who truly seek to know each other.”
The heat that flared briefly in his eyes assured her that he understood her meaning perfectly, and the gentle pressure of his hand at the small of her back as they approached the carriage held the promise of continued exploration once they returned to the privacy of Valemont Hall.