“It suits you,” he told her, meaning it. “You were born to be a duchess.”
“As you have said before,” she reminded him. “Though I believe at the time, you were merely noting my efficiency with tenants.”
He laughed, remembering their carriage ride after he had found her tending to a sick child in the village. “I meant it then, and I mean it now. Though I confess, I see far more than efficiency when I look at you.”
“What do you see?” she asked, her expression open, vulnerable.
He hesitated, unaccustomed to articulating such feelings. “I see strength. Kindness. A fierce intelligence that challenges me at every turn. Beauty that goes beyond the merely physical.” He paused, then added softly, “I see the woman who is teaching me that perhaps I am not destined to become my father after all.”
He looked down at her face, her lashes casting delicate shadows on her cheeks, and marveled at the difference in himself. With other women, the act had been a fleeting relief, a moment’s indulgence soon forgotten. But with Samantha, it felt like more—like finding a place he had never known existed yet had always, in some quiet part of himself, been seeking.
“Percy will be back from London tomorrow,” Ewan remarked several days later as they strolled through the gardens ofValemont Hall, her hand tucked securely in the crook of his arm. “Ralph sent word that they’ll arrive by midday.”
“How splendid,” Samantha replied, genuinely pleased. “I’ve missed his theatrical displays.”
Ewan laughed, the sound coming more freely these days. “You’ll regret saying that when he’s reciting his latest verse over breakfast.”
“Perhaps,” she conceded with a smile, “but there’s something refreshing about his earnestness, don’t you think? He feels everything so completely, without reservation.”
“Unlike his stodgy old uncle?” Ewan teased, though he felt a flicker of unease at the comparison.
She stopped, turning to face him fully. “That’s not what I meant at all.”
He studied her face, seeking signs of dissatisfaction but finding only sincerity. “I know I’m not as… expressive as Percy.”
“Thank heavens for that,” she said with a laugh that eased the tension in his shoulders. “One dramatic poet in the family is quite sufficient.” And there was that edge that continued to seduce him, no matter what she did.
“And yet, you seem fond of him.” It wasn’t a question, but rather an observation he had made over the weeks they had spent together.
“I am,” she admitted readily. “He reminds me a bit of Jane, actually. That same willingness to see the world as more wondrous than it often is.”
Ewan nodded, understanding dawning. “While you and I are more…”
“Practical,” she supplied. “Perhaps overly so, at times.”
He considered this as they resumed walking. “Is that why you defended his poetry that night? Because you saw something of your sister in him?”
She glanced at him, surprise evident in her expression. “You remember that?”
“I remember everything about you,” he admitted, the words emerging before he could consider their weight. “Even when I pretended not to.”
A flush crept up her neck, and she looked away, though he caught the pleased curve of her lips. “To answer your question, yes, partly. But also because I believe there’s value in passion, even when it’s imperfectly expressed.”
“Like us,” he murmured, drawing her closer to his side.
“Like us,” she agreed softly.
They walked in comfortable silence for a time, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the manicured lawns. Ewan found himself experiencing a contentment he had not known since childhood visits to Matthew’s estate; a sense of rightness, of belonging, that had eluded him for decades.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said finally, as they approached the rose garden that had been his mother’s pride, now tended with more care and warmth under Samantha’s direction.
“A dangerous pastime,” she teased, echoing his own words from a prior conversation.
He smiled, acknowledging the jest. “Indeed. Nevertheless, I’ve been considering what you said about visiting the village more regularly.”
Her eyes brightened with interest. “Oh?”
“There’s a small cottage on the estate that has fallen into disrepair. I thought perhaps we might restore it as a school for the tenant children.” He watched her carefully, gauging her reaction. “If you would oversee the project, of course.”
