Page 20 of Trusting Her Duke

As the formal part of the celebration ended and the feasting began, Lord Albert stepped forward to call for attention. This was the moment they’d planned - the official announcement of their betrothal. Yet somehow, watching the happy crowds, Penelope realised that it felt less like an announcement and more like a confirmation of what everyone already knew.

“My friends,” Lord Albert’s voice carried clearly across the meadow. “Today we celebrate not just a bountiful harvest, but a union that promises even greater abundance for years to come.”

She felt Alexander’s hand tighten slightly on hers as Albert continued. This man who had once been so rigid about protocol, so careful about proper behaviour, now stood openly holding her hand before both their estates’ people. The change in him moved her deeply, even as she recognised that he had changed her too – he had taught her that sometimes tradition and protocol could serve love rather than hinder it.

“The Duke of Ravensworth,” Lord Albert announced with obvious pleasure, “and Lady Penelope Whitmore wish to share their joy with all of you. Their upcoming marriage will unite our estates permanently, joining two ancient properties that have always been stronger together than apart.”

A cheer went up from the assembled crowd, genuine and heartfelt.

Penelope felt tears prick at her eyes as she saw Mrs Williams dabbing at her own with her apron, while Featherstone tried to maintain his dignity despite his broad smile.

Alexander turned to face her, his public reserve softening as he met her gaze.

“Shall we make it official, my love?”

She smiled up at him, remembering all the times they’d stood together in his study, heads bent over estate documents. How far they’d come from those early days of cautious cooperation.

“I thought we already had?” She couldn’t resist teasing him. “Or did you need more documentation?”

His laugh, warm and free, carried across the meadow, making several people turn in surprise. The Duke of Ravensworth, laughing openly at his own Harvest Festival? But the surprise in their faces quickly turned to approval as Alexander drew Penelope closer.

“The only documentation I need,” he said softly, for her ears alone, “is the promise you’ve already given me. Though I suppose making it public does satisfy proper protocol.”

“Always so proper,” she murmured, but her tone held only love.

“Not always.” His eyes darkened slightly with memory. “I seem to recall kissing you quite improperly in the conservatory that night.”

“That worked out rather well in the end, didn’t it?”

Instead of answering, he kissed her there before everyone - a proper, ceremonial kiss that nevertheless held promises of less proper ones to come.

*****

The celebration continued long into the afternoon.

Penelope found herself swept from group to group, accepting congratulations and sharing in the general joy. She noticed how easily the tenants from both estates mingled now, their earlier concerns about changed management forgotten in the evidence of their lords’ happiness. Alexander stayed close, his hand finding hers whenever possible. She watched him interact with their people - for they were truly their people now - and marvelled at how naturally he balanced authority with warmth.

“You’ve changed him,” Rosalind said softly, appearing beside her as Alexander spoke with a group of farmers about winter preparations. “Or perhaps just helped him remember who he really is, beneath all that rigid control.”

“We’ve changed each other,” Penelope corrected, watching as one of the older farmers clapped Alexander on the shoulder - a familiarity that would have been unthinkable months ago. “He’s taught me that sometimes tradition has value, that protocol can protect as well as restrict.”

“And you’ve taught him that sometimes the heart knows better than the head.” Rosalind squeezed her arm affectionately. “Though I must say, you both took an age to listen to your hearts properly.”

“Some things are worth taking time over.” Penelope touched her ring gently. “Worth building properly, with a foundation that will last.”

“Like properly registered estate rights?” Rosalind teased, then grew more serious. “Though I suppose that comparison does rather suit you both. You do tend to approach everything like estate management.”

“Not everything,” Penelope protested, though she couldn’t help smiling as Alexander glanced their way, his eyes warming as they met hers.

“No?” Rosalind’s knowing look suggested she saw more than Penelope might wish. “Then why do I suspect you’ve already started organising improvements to combine both estates’ charitable works?”

“That’s different,” Penelope defended, though she had indeed been making such plans. “That’s about practical necessity.”

“Of course it is.” Rosalind’s tone held affectionate disbelief. “Just as my brother’s daily visits to discuss estate business were absolutely necessary.”

Before Penelope could respond, Alexander returned to them, his expression holding that quiet contentment she’d come to treasure.

“What’s this about estate business?”

“Nothing,” both women said together, then laughed at his suspicious look.

“I was just telling Penelope how well you two suit each other,” Rosalind explained. “Though I still say you could have realised it sooner and saved us all months of watching you pretend everything was about estate management.”

“It wasn’t pretence,” Alexander said with dignity, though his eyes held amusement. “We had many important matters to discuss.”

“Yes, brother.” Rosalind patted his arm fondly. “Very important discussions that somehow required daily visits and long walks through the rose garden.”

“The rose garden has excellent privacy for sensitive estate business,” he replied with perfect seriousness, though Penelope felt his hand squeeze hers gently.

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Lord Albert joined them, grinning. “Though I must say, your methods of estate management have produced remarkable results.”

Looking around at their joined estates’ people celebrating together, at the easy way the two communities had merged, Penelope had to agree. Though perhaps not for the reasons Albert meant.

“The best results,” she said softly, meeting Alexander’s warm gaze, “come from balancing heart with duty. From understanding that love and responsibility can work together.”

“Like your mother tried to teach you?” she added quietly, for his ears alone.

His expression softened further.

“Like you showed me was possible. Though I suspect she knew what she was about, leaving you that ring.”

“She didn’t know me,” Penelope protested.

“No, but she knew her son.” His thumb stroked across her knuckles where they joined with his. “Knew exactly what kind of person could teach me to balance duty with heart.”

The afternoon light had begun to take on the golden quality of early evening, casting long shadows across the meadow. Most of the tenants had begun their journeys home, though many lingered to share one last cup of celebration ale or exchange congratulations again.

“We should thank them properly before they leave,” Penelope said, watching another family prepare their cart for departure. “They’ve made this day perfect.”

“They’ve made it real,” Alexander corrected gently. “Shown us that our estates truly can work as one.”

“Like us?”

She smiled up at him.

“Exactly like us.” He bent to kiss her temple, propriety relaxed by the late hour and general atmosphere of celebration. “Though perhaps with slightly less arguing about proper methods?”

“I wouldn’t count on that.” Her laugh held pure joy. “After all, someone needs to keep you from becoming too set in your ways.”

“I look forward to it.” His voice deepened slightly. “To everything about our future together.”

The setting sun painted the autumn trees in shades of gold and crimson, nature’s own celebration of their joy. As they moved together to bid farewell to their people, Penelope felt the rightness of it all settle into her bones.

This was what her father had meant about balance, what Alexander’s mother had written about in that last letter. This perfect joining of duty and love, of tradition and progress, of heart and responsibility. As the last cart rumbled away down the lane, Lord Albert approached with news from the village.

“Word’s already spreading about the announcement. Though I suspect half the county has been expecting it since that stormy day when Lady Penelope rode to warn us about Sir Lionel’s schemes.”

“Has anyone heard of him recently?” Penelope asked, though she kept her tone light to avoid disturbing the day’s joy.

“Last report placed him in France,” Lord Albert replied with satisfaction. “Most of his creditors have given up the chase, satisfied with claiming portions of his remaining properties. Though I understand his London solicitors are still rather anxious to avoid any association with his actions.”

“As well they might be.” Alexander’s arm slipped around Penelope’s waist, drawing her closer as the evening air cooled. “Though perhaps we should focus on more pleasant matters? The wedding preparations, for instance?”

“Ah yes,” Lord Albert’s grin returned. “I understand that Rosalind has rather extensive plans for that.”

“Nothing too elaborate,” Penelope protested quickly, though she knew it was probably hopeless. Alexander’s sister had been making lists since the moment they’d announced their betrothal to the family.

“You’ll have to take that up with her,” Alexander said, amusement clear in his voice. “Though I suspect you’ll find her as stubborn about proper celebrations as I am about proper documentation.”

“Heaven help me,” Penelope laughed. “I’m marrying into a family of perfectly proper planners.”

“Not quite perfect.” His voice softened as he drew her slightly away from Albert’s knowing smile. “After all, I did kiss you in the conservatory before making my intentions officially known.”

“Your one moment of impropriety.” She turned in his arms to face him. “Though it led us here, didn’t it?”

“It led us home,” he corrected gently, and kissed her as the first stars appeared in the autumn sky.