Page 19 of Trusting Her Duke

Later that evening, after her father had departed and dinner had been served, Penelope found herself back in the library with Alexander. Lord Albert had made himself scarce, claiming estate business that couldn’t wait, though his wink as he left suggested otherwise. The fire cast dancing shadows across the familiar room as Alexander drew her into his arms. Whilst being alone together like this wasn’t exactly as propriety demanded, they had gone rather past the point of caring – especially as Penelope’s father was not in the least concerned.

“Happy?”

“Mmm.” She settled against him, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “Though I’m still not entirely sure about announcing it at the Harvest Festival. Won’t that seem rather... public?”

“Says the woman who confronted Sir Lionel in front of his own solicitors?” His chest rumbled with quiet laughter. “Since when are you shy about public declarations?”

“That was different.” She tilted her head back to look up at him. “That was about protecting what mattered.”

“And this isn’t?” His expression grew serious. “Penelope, I want everyone to know - not just that we’re to be married, but that both estates will be permanently united. That the partnership we’ve built these past months will last forever.”

“There you go again,” she smiled, “comparing our marriage to estate management.”

“Because it works.” He brushed a kiss across her forehead. “We work. In every way that matters.”

She had to admit he was right. These past months had proved how effectively they complemented each other - his methodical nature balancing her intuitive approach, her practical humanity softening his tendency towards rigid control.

“I love you,” she said quietly, watching his eyes warm at the words. “Even when you’re being ridiculously proper about everything.”

“I love you too.” His hands tightened slightly at her waist. “Even when you’re riding through storms to prove me wrong about everything.”

“Not everything,” she corrected. “Just the important things.”

His laugh was swallowed by her kiss, and for a long moment, estate management was the furthest thing from either of their minds.

A log shifted in the fire, sending sparks dancing up the chimney. Alexander drew back slightly, though he kept her close in his arms, their warmth around her filling her with joy.

“I have something else for you,” he said, a hint of nervousness entering his tone. “Though perhaps I should have given it to you before the ring.”

“Oh?”

She watched curiously as he moved to his desk and withdrew a document from a drawer.

“I found this last week, when I was organising the final papers for our Chancery petition.” He handed it to her carefully, and settled back on the seat beside her. “It’s from your father’s correspondence with my father, from just before... before everything changed.”

Penelope unfolded the yellowed paper, recognising her father’s handwriting.

‘My dear friend,

Your suggestion about joining our estates more permanently through the next generation shows your usual foresight. Your Alexander and my little Penelope are both too young now for such considerations, but perhaps someday... They share our commitment to proper estate management, after all. Though I suspect your boy might need someone to challenge his more rigid tendencies, much as your dear wife challenges yours.

With warmest regards...’

“They planned this?” She looked up at Alexander in surprise. “Even then?”

“Not exactly.” He moved to sit beside her again, his arm sliding around her shoulders as she continued reading. “They discussed the possibility, but agreed to let us make our own choices when the time came. Though it seems they saw something we didn’t realise until much later.”

“That we complement each other?” She leaned back against him. “That we’re stronger together than apart?”

“That, and apparently that I needed someone to challenge my rigid tendencies.” His voice held rueful amusement. “Though I doubt they anticipated just how thoroughly you would manage that.”

“I didn’t do it alone.” She turned in his arms to face him. “You had to be willing to learn, to change, to trust.”

“And I had to be willing to admit when I was wrong.” He touched her cheek gently. “Though perhaps we could avoid testing that particular lesson quite so dramatically in the future?”

“No more storms?”

She smiled up at him.

“Oh, I’m sure there will be storms.” His expression grew serious. “But we’ll weather them together from now on. No more letting fear or pride drive us apart.”

“Together,” she agreed softly. “Though I reserve the right to continue improving your methods of estate management.”

“I would expect nothing less.” His thumb traced her cheekbone. “Just as I expect you’ll continue riding out in inappropriate weather whenever you think something needs immediate attention.”

“Only when necessary,” she protested, though they both knew better. “And speaking of necessity, we should review the arrangements for the Harvest Festival. If we’re to make an announcement...”

“Not tonight.” He caught her hand as she moved towards the desk, and pulled her gently back to him. “Tonight is for us. Estate management can wait until tomorrow.”

“Can it?” She raised an eyebrow. “What happened to my properly organised Duke who insists that everything must be thoroughly planned?”

“He learned that some things are more important than proper planning.” Alexander drew her back into his arms. “Though I did already have Albert start organising the festival details. And Rosalind is handling the announcement arrangements.”

“Of course you did.” She couldn’t help laughing. “Heaven forbid anything be truly spontaneous.”

“I can be spontaneous.” He affected a wounded expression. “I did kiss you in the conservatory that night.”

“Yes, and then spent three months making up for that momentary lapse in proper behaviour.” But she softened the teasing with a gentle touch to his face. “Though I suppose your methodical courtship did prove rather effective.”

“Did it?” His eyes darkened slightly. “Perhaps I should be methodical about this too, then.”

The kiss that followed was anything but methodical, though it maintained that careful control she’d come to recognise as his way of showing how precious she was to him. When they finally parted, both slightly breathless, she rested her forehead against his chest.

“I love you,” she said quietly. “Even when you’re being ridiculously proper about everything.”

“I love you too.” His arms tightened around her. “Even when you’re completely disrupting all of my carefully laid plans.”

The fire crackled softly, casting warm light over them as they stood together. Through the library windows, Penelope could see the first stars appearing in the darkening sky. How different this evening was from that stormy day when she’d first sought shelter at Ravensworth Hall.

“What are you thinking?”

Alexander’s voice came soft above her head.

“About how much has changed. How far we’ve come since that first storm.” She lifted her head to meet his eyes. “Though some things haven’t changed at all.”

“Oh?” His expression held curious amusement. “Which things?”

“You still compare everything to estate management.” She smiled up at him. “You still insist on proper documentation for everything. You still drink far too much coffee when you’re working late.”

“And you still challenge my every decision.” But his tone held warmth rather than criticism. “Still insist on practical solutions over traditional methods. Still ride out in any weather when you think something needs immediate attention.”

“We do rather suit each other, don’t we?” She reached up to touch his face, feeling the slight roughness of evening shadow against her palm. “Even when we’re driving each other mad.”

“Especially then.” He turned his head to press a kiss to her palm. “Though I expect we’ll have plenty of opportunity to practice dealing with that. Running two estates together won’t always be simple.”

“Nothing worth doing ever is.” She let her hand slide down to rest over his heart. “But we’ve proved we can handle difficulties together, haven’t we?”

“We have.” His own hand came up to cover hers. “Though perhaps we could handle future difficulties with slightly less drama? I’m not sure my heart could take watching you ride through another storm like that.”

“No promises.” Her smile widened at his mock groan. “After all, someone needs to keep you from becoming too set in your ways.”

A knock at the door interrupted whatever response he might have made. Lord Albert appeared, his expression apologetic.

“Sorry to interrupt, but there’s a matter that needs attention. Featherstone’s here about the Harvest Festival arrangements. Apparently there’s some question about the traditional boundaries for the celebration?”

Alexander’s laugh held resigned amusement.

“Of course there is. Though perhaps this is an appropriate first test of our joint management?”

“Very appropriate.” Penelope stepped back, though she kept hold of his hand. “Shall we show everyone how well we work together?”

“You already have,” Lord Albert observed dryly. “Though some of us noticed rather sooner than others.”

They followed him to the study, where Featherstone waited with maps and papers spread across the desk. The estate manager’s weathered face showed relief at seeing them together.

“Beggin’ your pardon, Your Grace, my Lady, but with the estates joining proper-like now, some of the tenants were wondering about the traditional divisions for the Harvest celebrations. Seeing as how we’ve always had separate festivals before...”

“But not this year,” Alexander said firmly, drawing Penelope closer to the desk. “This year we celebrate together. As we will from now on.”

Penelope studied the maps, her practical mind already working on solutions.

“We could use the south meadow - it’s traditionally shared grazing land anyway. That way neither estate’s tenants would feel their rights were being overlooked.”

“Perfect.” Alexander’s approval came warm and immediate. “And it would demonstrate how we intend to manage things going forward. Together, with respect for traditional rights on both sides.”

Featherstone’s face cleared.

“That’ll settle everyone right enough. Especially with the announcement being made there.”

“Speaking of the announcement,” Lord Albert spoke up from near the door, “Rosalind has some ideas she wants to discuss...”

Later that night, as Penelope’s carriage carried her home through starlit darkness, she found herself smiling at the memory of their impromptu planning session. How naturally they had worked together, her practical suggestions complementing Alexander’s careful attention to tradition and protocol.

The ring on her finger caught the lantern light, its antique stones holding memories of past Duchesses of Ravensworth. Soon she would join their ranks, joining the estates as permanently as they were joining their lives.

Mary, sitting opposite her in the carriage, watched her with knowing eyes.

“You seem happy, my Lady.”

“I am.” Penelope touched the ring gently. “Though I suspect you’ve known that this was coming for some time?”

“Since the day you rode through that storm.” Mary’s practical voice held satisfaction. “No one does something that foolish unless they’re in love.”

“It wasn’t foolish,” Penelope protested automatically. “It was necessary.”

“Of course it was, my Lady.” But Mary’s smile suggested she knew better. “Just as it was necessary for His Grace to spend three months courting you through estate business.”

“We needed to rebuild trust,” Penelope said softly. “To be sure we could work together properly.”

“And are you sure now?”

Penelope looked out at the familiar lanes passing by, lanes that connected both estates like the lives they would soon join.

“Yes,” she said simply. “We balance each other. In everything that matters.”

The carriage turned onto the drive to Stanyon House, and Penelope found herself already looking forward to tomorrow. To more estate business that wasn’t really about estates at all. To more careful courtship that would soon become something permanent and precious.

To everything their future held, storms and all.

*****

The Harvest Festival transformed the south meadow into a scene from a fairy tale. Bright autumn sunlight gilded the changing leaves, while scattered clouds cast dramatic shadows across the assembled crowd. Penelope stood at the edge of the gathering, watching tenants from both estates mingle freely, their earlier uncertainties forgotten in shared celebration.

“Quite a transformation,” her father observed beside her. The Earl’s eyes held quiet pride as he surveyed the scene. “Though I suspect this is just the beginning of changes to come.”

“Good changes.”

Penelope’s voice was soft, her hand straying to the ring she now wore openly. Its weight had become familiar over the past week, though each glimpse still brought a surge of joy that made her heart race. Across the meadow, she could see Alexander speaking with a group of tenant farmers. Even at this distance, she noted how his usual severity had softened, how he listened with genuine attention to their concerns. The past months had changed him - or perhaps just revealed what had always been there, hidden beneath duty and fear.

“He’s learned well,” the Earl said, following her gaze. “Though I suspect his teachers were both you and his mother, in different ways.”

“His mother?”

Penelope turned to her father curiously.

“That ring you wear - I remember his mother wearing it. She had the same way about her, you know. Of softening duty with understanding, of making protocol serve people rather than the other way around.”

Before Penelope could respond, Rosalind appeared at her elbow, practically vibrating with excitement.

“It’s almost time! Are you ready? Should we make the announcement now, or wait until after the traditional ceremonies?”

“Let the traditional ceremonies happen first,” Penelope said, watching another group of tenants arrive. “This day belongs to both estates’ people. Our announcement shouldn’t overshadow their celebrations.”

“Very diplomatic,” Alexander’s voice came from behind her, making her heart leap even as she smiled at its familiar warmth. “Though I suspect they already know. Mrs Williams has been looking entirely too pleased with herself all morning.”

“Of course they know.” Rosalind rolled her eyes fondly. “The entire neighbourhood has been watching you two dance around each other for months. Though I still say you took an unnecessarily long time about it, brother.”

“I preferred to be thorough.” Alexander moved to stand beside Penelope, his hand finding hers with practiced ease. “To be certain that everything was properly prepared.”

“Properly prepared?” Albert joined them, grinning. “Is that what we’re calling three months of pretending estate business required daily visits?”

Penelope felt her cheeks warm, but Alexander’s thumb stroked across her knuckles reassuringly.

“Those visits were entirely necessary,” he said with dignity. “We had much to discuss.”

“Oh yes,” Albert’s grin widened. “Very important discussions about grain storage and water rights. Though I notice those discussions often seemed to happen in the conservatory. Or the rose garden. Or...”

“I believe,” the Earl interrupted smoothly, though his eyes twinkled, “that the traditional ceremonies are about to begin. Shall we?”

The harvest ceremonies had been part of both estates’ traditions for generations. Now, watching Alexander step forward to speak the ancient words of blessing over the gathered crops, Penelope felt the rightness of their estates’ joining. His deep voice carried across the meadow, firm and sure, as he acknowledged the partnership between land and people that had sustained both properties for centuries. When it came time for her part in the ceremony, Penelope moved to stand beside him. Together, they distributed the traditional gifts - bread from each estate’s grain, apples from shared orchards, tokens that represented the abundance both properties had enjoyed. The tenants’ earlier uncertainty about the combined celebration had vanished completely. They approached as one community now, accepting the gifts with clear pleasure at seeing their Lord and Lady working in such harmony.

“See how natural they look together?” Penelope heard one farmer’s wife whisper to another. “Like they was meant to be that way all along.”

“Aye,” came the response. “Though they took their time about realising it, didn’t they?”

Alexander’s slight smile suggested he’d heard too, but his voice remained steady as he continued the ceremony. When he reached for Penelope’s hand to complete the final blessing, the contact felt as natural as breathing.