Page 18 of The Wise Daughter

Before Ruthers could say anything else, Aaron settled for pushing him to the side. “All right. Enough of that. Now you’ve met, and you can carry on with your work. We don’t require any assistance.”

Ruthers held his hands up in a defenseless posture. “Easy, Derricott. I’m a sensitive man. I only want to be helpful, but I know when I’m not wanted.” He gave them another dramatic bow, reached for something near his pails by the hay, and left, finally leaving Aaron alone with Nora once again.

“I know he may not appear very genteel, but of all the people at Holmrook Castle, Ruthers is among the most trustworthy.”

Nora quirked a brow. “He certainly appears at ease with you, much more than your other servants.”

There was a question in her observation, but now was not the time to get lost in his history with Ruthers. “Yes, well, should any danger arise, you can absolutely turn to him for help, though I doubt we’ll have the last problem he insinuated.”

The flush in her cheeks deepened down to her neck. “Well, thank you for caring for Locket. She appears quite at ease here.”

Aaron risked a step closer. “I hope you will soon feel at ease here as well.”

The only answer she gave was a sad smile before rubbing her horse’s neck. Not the most encouraging reaction. Aaron took a turn rubbing the horse’s soft nose, and tried a different subject. “Why do you call her Locket?”

A real smile broke forth this time. What a difference it made, lighting up Nora’s entire countenance.

“Because she keeps all my secrets. Never once has she betrayed my trust.”

“Are you certain? Locket told me a great many things about you while she carried me.” It was another risk, but he was willing to guess she would rise to the jest.

Her blue eyes sparked. “You cannot fool me, Your Grace. Locket has more decorum than to speak so openly to a stranger.”

“I would never attempt to fool you, Nora. You underestimate the bond that occurred between Locket and me that night.” He rubbed Locket’s nose again and offered her an apple from a nearby feed pail.

“She instinctively knew to trust me as I trusted her when she conveyed me back here. I told her a great many secrets as well.”

Nora paused, taking his bait. “Really? Like what?”

Aaron had said some stupid things that morning, but he knew an opportunity when it presented itself. “For one thing, I told Locket that I was eager to become better acquainted with you when you arrived at the castle.”

He waited for a reaction, anything to hint at how she received this.

After too many unsteady heartbeats, Nora tilted her head, watching Locket nuzzle Aaron’s hand. “She does seem to like you.”

“And I like her.” He made a point to look into Nora’s eyes, hoping to conjure another blush or smile, but instead, under her scrutiny, his own face started burning. Blast it! Since when did a duke blush?

“Your Grace, I have a question for you.” She slowly drew closer, sending his heart into an unexpected canter. “Are you certain you trust Ruthers?”

Oh. This was not the sort of question he had expected or wanted. “Absolutely. Why do you ask?”

“Because I believe he was hiding something from you.”

Aaron blinked. The very idea that Ruthers would keep a secret from him was ridiculous.

“When we walked in,” she continued, “he slid something into the horse’s stall with his foot as if he didn’t want us to see what it was. He hid it first in those pails. Did you not notice?”

He hadn’t. He didn’t like that he hadn’t.

“I also think his exaggerated tones might have been due to his surprise at seeing you.” She paused, then added, “Why do you allow him to address you so informally? How do you know he respects your title?”

Aaron thought this an ironic question. “I’ve given you leave to address me informally.”

She flashed a quick but sharp glare. “We are not talking about me.”

He laughed awkwardly, not understanding her stubbornness. “Ruthers and I have long been on friendly terms. I know I can trust him. He was most likely kicking some scrap of wood out of the way.”

She shook her head. “There wasn’t any wood on the floor.”

“I don’t know what it was, but I promise, you can trust him. Please, Nora, this is important. I want you to know who to turn to for help if ever you cannot find me.”

She reached for a brush and began running it down Locket’s neck. “I will take that into consideration, Your Grace, but I cannot promise to confide in anyone until I have proved them. My trust is earned.”

Her words were like a brisk slap. He knew what she meant.

He needed to earn her trust. He already trusted her because of all she had done for him, but what had he done to earn her trust?

Perhaps nothing in her eyes, but as far as he was concerned, he had welcomed her into his home and promised to provide her with everything she could possibly need.

Promises, he realized, were worthless to her without actions. His chest began to tighten. How far would he have to go? How long until he proved himself to her?

“And who has earned your trust, Nora? Has anyone besides your horse?”

Her hands stilled, and he instantly wished he could take back his rash words.

Her blue eyes, blazing with intensity, locked on him, her lips quivering.

“When my mother died, I had no one left to trust. My father succumbed to a fearsome gambling habit. He sold our land. He mortgaged our manor and reduced the staff. I worked alongside my maid until she was dismissed. When my father faced the choice between selling our home or going to prison, he sold our home. One can only bear so many humiliations and betrayals until trust suffers.”

They stood staring at one another. Her speech made him feel like an utter, insensitive fool. Did he really expect her to trust him so quickly? Yet, even still, his arms tensed with a desire to prove himself worthy of her.

“I’m sorry for all you’ve suffered, Nora.”

She folded her arms around herself. “Does it not change your mind about our arrangement?”

His chest ached with her question, but he observed her and tried to understand what she was really asking. “Do you wish for me to change my mind?”

She lowered her eyes. “I only want you to be fully informed about the nature of my family’s downfall. If you wish to connect my name to yours, I would rather you learn what happened from me than from backbiting gossips.”

She hugged herself tighter, making him wish that his arms could be there to comfort instead.

“Hearing your confession builds my trust in you, Nora. I don’t care a bootstrap’s worth about opinions or rumors in West Riding or London or St. James's Palace.”

“You don’t?” Quicker than he would have thought possible, she dropped her guard as clearly as if she had dropped her shawl.

“Not at all.”

She lowered her voice. “You are the first gentleman I have met who feels that way.”

A soft breeze blew through the stables and wrapped around him as if urging him toward her.

Tentatively, he reached for her hand and laced his fingers with hers.

Her skin was rose petal soft and warming under his touch.

The effect of her flushing cheeks, observed so closely, was utterly disarming.

To his relief, she didn’t pull away, but instead, searched his eyes.

He savored the connection, willing her to see inside his eagerness to make their engagement work.

Whether he was gaining confidence or losing reserve, he didn’t know, but the need to be closer prompted another step. There was hardly any space between them now.

“The truth is, Your Grace–”

“Aaron,” he softly reminded her.

“I fear you are too generous with my father. He will waste your kindness.”

“I don’t believe that kindness is ever wasted, Nora.” He raised his other hand to her arm. Halfway to the embrace he wanted, and still, she did not pull away.

Her eyes quickly brimmed with water.

Aaron very nearly pulled her to his chest, but his confidence wavered.

He wanted to hold her and comfort her, but he first wanted her to trust him.

He would not push her toward affection before she was ready.

Instead of pulling her close, he dropped the hand on her arm and laced his other fingers with hers so that he held both her hands.

It took the patience of several swift heartbeats, but her fingers eventually closed around his.

Such a small gesture, but it sent his blood coursing with a surge of reassurance.

He lifted one of her hands and hugged it to his chest. Sweet, crisp scents of apple blossoms drifted his way. As she looked up and studied his face, he studied hers in return. Her eyes, matching the sky, were open, searching, and –dared he think it?-- interested.

The silence between them was no longer burdensome but perfect and inviting and–

“Your Grace!” Another man’s voice.

Blast!

Nora pulled her hands from his and hopped an entire, frightful step away as Ruthers came running back in.

Blast, blast, blast! It was fortunate for Ruthers that he was such a trusted friend.

“Apologies for ruining your moment, Derricott.” He cleared his throat. “But Carver was right. You must come right away. We’ve caught a thief.”