Willow recognized the flutters in her stomach with some alarm. Interest. Curiosity. It sparked to life. Shewantedto discover that man—the carefree man with the impassioned heart.
“If it hadn’t been for the late duke’s will. . .” Cook was saying.
“What?” Willow’s eyes snapped back to the woman. “What about the late duke’s will?
“It is rumored there was a clause in the will.”
Wendell groaned. Willow and Cook both ignored him.
“A clause?” Willow asked, intrigued. “What type of clause?”
Cook leaned forward, lowering her voice. It was positively gratifying. “A clause that commanded the duke to wed within twelve months of his father’s death.”
“Or what?” Willow asked, curious as to how a man with so much power could be commanded to wed.
“Or the duke would forfeit hisentireinheritance.”
“No,” Willow said, shaking her head.
“Yes,” Cook said, both she and Wendell nodding now.
Dear lord.
It explained so much. Why he married in haste. His dubious methods in doing so. His clear distaste for the marriage. How would it feel to have one’s entire world placed in jeopardy by a dead relative? To have no choice on the timing of such a significant matter as marriage? All while he was seemingly still grieving a sister. And, Willow assumed, the clause aside, a father.
She, at least, had entered the marriage of her own free will. It’d been a drastic and somewhat crazed decision, but it’d been her decision nonetheless. No one had forced her.
Willow made a decision there and then. Ambrose might not know this yet, but Willow intended to restore brightness to his life. She had a feeling that a little light in his world might go a long way towards bringing back the man he once was—the man she’d like to become acquainted with.
Filled with renewed determination, she turned to her new allies. “About tonight. . .”
