CHAPTER3
A Clash of Personalities
Finchbury Estate, Cornwall
Nicholas looked into the library to find his mother reading.
“There you are, Mother. How are you feeling? How was the trip here?” he asked.
“Oh, fine, fine,” Rebecca Harrington, the Dowager Duchess of Sheffield, replied. “Everyone here has treated me very well since I arrived. Is it not a wonderful estate? And have you seen the view?”
“I have,” Nicholas replied, walking into the room.
He went over to the window and looked out at the pale sand and the sea beyond. It was dull and grey for now, but it was supposed to brighten later.
“Where is your brother and his betrothed?” Rebecca asked.
“They are about somewhere,” Nicholas murmured. “They are inseparable now.”
“It is fine to see Michael so happy,” Rebecca noted.
“It is,” Nicholas agreed.
He took his mother in. The sea air would do her good. She did not get out a lot, and the break was not only a chance for her to meet her youngest son’s new family but also to relax. She had a weariness and strain that she often tried to hide.
“I shall go for a walk on the beach if you would like to accompany me,” Nicholas offered.
“Perhaps later,” she said. “For now, I am rather enjoying this book.”
“As you wish.” The Duke nodded once.
He left the library and then the building. A saltiness hung in the air from the seawater, and gulls squawked in the distance. Farther out were more gulls, not the ones that could be heard, and they dived down every so often to try and spear a fish for lunch.
The Duke took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the fresh sea air, and set out along the shoreline.
He had worn his taller boots so he could walk in the sand and not have the sand get into his footwear. He was a busy man and had little time to visit the beach, so it was a pleasant respite.
Spring had only just started, and the large homes along the coast were for holidaymakers. The beach would be packed in the summer, but it was quiet now—not another soul in sight.
Nicholas ascended a sandbank and went down the other side into a thicket of bushes. He would have remained on the path, but it was much more fun to take the path less traveled. He pushed a branch to the side and stepped between two thick bushes, almost bumping into a woman.
“You must excuse me,” the Duke said, taking hold of her waist so they did not collide with each other.
“You!” Bridget shouted.
“Ah, your favorite greeting,” the Duke drawled.
“Take your hands off me!”
“Oh, gladly.” Nicholas removed his hands from her waist and held them up in the air in surrender. He stepped back and could not help the amusement that crossed his features.
“What are you doing out here?” Bridget asked.
Nicholas raised an eyebrow. “Are you always this friendly and agreeable?”
“Oh, don’t talk like that,” Bridget huffed. “As if I don’t know who you are and what you say behind people’s backs.”
“So, my reputation does precede me,” the Duke said. “And I have no problem saying what I wish to people’s faces, thoughtheyseem to have trouble with it often.”
