Once Upon a Duke Read online

  The moment she let her guard down, her worst fear came true. She had been seated right here at Penelope’s breakfast table when the coach with his ducal crest had rolled by.

  He had left her, exactly as her parents had done. Just like she had expected. She had known not to believe it could be different this time. It was not his fault.

  She could not accuse him of raising false hopes. Making love had been her idea. More than an idea, it had been an intimacy she had yearned to share with him for so long. If she was feeling melancholy because she hadn’t been strong enough to say goodbye, it was no one’s fault but hers.

  Her lungs froze in sudden horror.

  Was lack of goodbye not the precise situation that had hurt Benjamin the most, time and again? The very reason the locket about her neck was so precious to him was because everyone he ever cared about had been ripped from him before he had a chance to say goodbye.

  His family had not meant to leave him so abruptly.

  Noelle had done it by design.

  She lowered her face into her hands.

  “Are you all right?” Penelope asked softly.

  Noelle pushed to her feet. “I have to go.”

  She could not impose on Penelope any longer.

  In minutes, Noelle was bundled against the cold and trudging back toward the castle, back toward the empty counting house and her lonesome bedchamber, back toward the rest of her life. One without Benjamin.

  Perhaps loneliness was her destiny. It was no one’s fault Benjamin had been born heir to a dukedom. No one’s fault his primary seat was miles away. No one’s fault his duty was to the House of Lords. If she wished to be angry, it might as well be with the stars above.

  From the moment he’d come back, she’d known she could expect nothing from him.

  And yet he’d managed to surprise her anyway.

  The comfortable chair and better lighting in the counting house. His repeated kindnesses with Mr. Fawkes, no matter how many misunderstandings. The way Benjamin had made Tiny Tim’s health his personal responsibility. How he’d let her shove him into a sleigh and sit through a holiday play despite all the pain Christmas had brought him.

  He’d done it all for Noelle. Because he wanted to be with her, while it was possible.

  She strode through the castle entrance and headed toward the counting house stairs. Perhaps journals and accounts would keep her mind from Benjamin better than tea with a well-meaning friend. At least she could make herself useful.

  “Miss Pratchett,” a male voice called just as she reached the spiral stair.

  She turned around to find Mr. Marlowe’s solicitor smiling at her. “May I help you?”

  “I should say so.” He nodded with satisfaction. “We’ve no less than eight candidates for your review. I’ve taken the liberty of inquiring into their references for you.”

  She stared at him blankly. “Candidates for what?”

  “The apprenticeship, of course. One moment, miss.” The solicitor fetched a stack of papers from his office. “Here we are. His Grace arranged for you to have an assistant. As I’ve stated—”

  “What if I don’t want an assistant?” she stammered.

  “Then don’t pick one,” the solicitor replied. “His Grace was quite clear on the matter. You alone have the authority to select as few or as many apprentices as you deem fit for the counting house.”

  “I have the authority,” she repeated. “Me.”

  The solicitor nodded. “Every decision left to your sole and complete discretion, miss. If you’d like me to search for different candidates—”

  “I’ll take the list,” she said quickly and stepped forward to accept the documents.

  Her pulse pounded. Benjamin had recognized how much work it had taken to clear up the old records and put them to rights. He had warned her not to spend so much time in the counting house that there was no room left in her schedule for life.

  This was his way of letting her have it all. A position of acknowledged importance as well as the freedom to take time for herself. She held the papers to her chest. With the right talent in place, the counting house would be operational whether Noelle was absent for an afternoon or an extended holiday.

  The corner of her mouth curved. Whether he liked Christmas or not, Benjamin had managed to provide both for Noelle and for the townsfolk. He had ensured less work for her and created new jobs for others. He had left Cressmouth a better place.

  “How is Tiny Tim?” she asked suddenly.

  The solicitor didn’t blink at the sudden change in topic. “As neat as ninepence, miss. Jumping all over everything again. A new lease on life, I'd say.”

  Noelle took a deep breath. The pygmy goat wasn’t the only one who felt like leaping for joy. It was time for her to change as well.

  As long as she only viewed herself as a function of Cressmouth, there was no room in her overextended life for anyone else. Not even Benjamin. She was equally responsible for pushing him away. For not making room. For being a fool.

  Cressmouth would be right here all year round… but Noelle didn’t have to be.

  If she was willing to try.

  Her hands shook as she pointed out a pair of names to the solicitor. “These two look promising. How soon can they start?”

  “They’re here now, miss.” He gestured toward his makeshift office. “Both have years of experience with accounts. Shall I send them up to familiarize themselves with ours?”

  “Send Fuzzy Wig up, too. He’ll enjoy sharing the castle’s history as he acquaints them with the accounts.”

  “As you please, miss. Should I tell them you’ll be up shortly?”

  “No,” she said slowly, her resolve strengthening. “I don’t think I will be.”

  When Benjamin had asked if she would be willing to visit London, she had dismissed the idea out of hand. But he hadn’t been trying to take something away from her. He was trying to offer her something more.

  She had been wrong to judge her self-worth on her loyalty to her village. Leaving its borders for a time wouldn’t mean she loved it any less. He had come here, to a town filled with ghosts and bad memories. Surely she could survive a trip south to an unfamiliar city.

  Her heart pounded. She didn’t want to let go of Benjamin. She wanted to hold on tight. Only together would they be whole.

  She shoved the documents into the solicitor’s hands and spun back toward the castle exit.

  He stepped aside and clasped the papers to his chest in bafflement. “Where are you going, miss?”

  To Benjamin. There was no time to waste.

  “I need to see a lady about a horse,” she called over her shoulder and ran out the door.

  Outside, the weather was just as cold as before, but no longer felt so bleak. This time it seemed the winds of change, a breeze of possibility hurrying her along her way.

  Her pulse raced with urgency.

  Noelle had no carriage of her own and Cressmouth was too small a village to have a plethora of hackneys one could hire in order to chase after a lost love. She would have to make do on horseback.

  She slipped on a patch of ice and caught herself on a wooden pillar as she skidded off the street and onto the famous Harper stud farm.

  Olive was in the barn tightening a leather tack when Noelle arrived.

  “Horse,” Noelle panted. “Please.”

  Olive looked at her doubtfully. “I’ve just saddled up Earl. He won’t be a sedate ride. He’s been restless all day and—”

  “Perfect,” Noelle said quickly, grateful Olive was the sort of friend who didn’t ask questions. “I’ll have him back by nightfall.”

  Probably.

  “Earl is a full-grown pony. He hasn’t a curfew,” Olive said with a smile as she pushed a mounting block beside him. “Good luck.”

  Noelle glanced at her friend sharply, then launched herself into the sidesaddle. Perhaps the real reason Olive hadn’t asked any questions was because she had already surmised the answers.
<
br />   “Thank you,” she said and meant it. “For everything.”

  Olive moved the mounting block out of the way and gestured toward the open road. “Go get him.”

  Noelle turned into the wind and gave Earl his head.

  Benjamin might have had a two-hour head start, but he was also pulling a heavy coach. A single rider on a fast pony ought to be able to make up the same distance in half the time.

  Noelle blinked falling snowflakes from her eyelashes and held on tight. She had to do more than merely catch up with Benjamin. She had to let him know how much he meant. How much she would love to stay together. How she was even willing to give him a proper goodbye, if that was what he preferred.

  Just as she began to suspect her limbs had frozen to the back of the pony, she caught sight of a distant carriage ahead, a coal-black smudge in a world filled with white.

  It wasn’t the coach she was searching for, however. This carriage wasn’t leaving Cressmouth. It was heading right toward her at breakneck speed.

  She coaxed Earl to the side of the road to allow the carriage to pass.

  When the driver drew close, he halted the horses and a well-dressed gentleman leapt out of the coach right before her eyes.

  Benjamin. Her heart soared. He had come back for her!

  “I love you,” he said before she could open her mouth. “I didn’t tell you when I could, so I’m telling you now. I love you, Noelle Pratchett. I’ll never tire of saying so.”

  All the cold and numbness left her legs as she gazed down at him speechlessly.

  “Tell me one thing.” He stared up at her, his eyes beseeching. “Why did you hide from me?”

  “Goodbye was too final,” she said, her voice cracking. “I loved you and you left me anyway. I didn’t want it to be over. I couldn’t… I can’t… You weren’t…”

  “I’m right here.” He held out his arms and she slid down into them. “I came back. I don’t want to go anywhere without you.”

  “Neither do I,” she whispered.

  He wrapped his scarf around them both, holding on tight. “You love me?”

  “Of course I do, you dreadful beast.” She snuggled her cheek into his warm chest.

  He lifted her chin and forced her to meet his eyes.

  “Come with me,” he said urgently. “Let me show you a different kind of season. We can fill up the coach with anything you want to bring, and I’ll take care of everything else.”

  “Leave Cressmouth?” Her voice might wobble, but her heart was sure. She would go anywhere to be with him. All he had to do was ask.

  “As my wife,” he said quickly. “Come as my duchess. Let me be your husband.”

  “I will never fit in with the beau monde,” she stammered. “I’m an orphan…”

  “So am I,” he said with a crooked smile. “And who cares what they think? I don’t want to fit in with the ton. I want to fit together with you. To marry you. When we start our family, we’ll raise our children to know they are loved.”

  “And Christmas?” she asked, her heart pounding with joy.

  “A lovely village,” he answered without hesitation. “We can spend half the year here, and half the year in London. What do you think?” His eyes were beseeching. “Mightn’t it be the best of both worlds?”

  “No.” She wound her arms about his neck to give him a kiss. “It’ll be the best of both seasons.”

  He grinned. “That means yes?”

  “It means I’ll go anywhere, as long as I’m with you.” She kissed the tip of his nose. “After all, why have one home when we could have two?”

  Chapter 17

  Three months later

  London, England

  * * *

  Noelle sat as still as she could. She was sharing a beautiful stone bench in the middle of Vauxhall Gardens with her new husband.

  Benjamin lowered the arm he had curved protectively about her waist to just below her hip in order to give her derrière a surreptitious squeeze before returning to position.

  Noelle tried her best not to squeeze him back.

  The portrait artist poked his head out from behind the easel then returned his focus to his canvases.

  He was making two copies of this moment. A large likeness of Benjamin and Noelle for the hall of portraits in the primary Silkridge residence, and a miniature to fit the other half of the gold locket she wore next to her heart.

  She risked a brief glance up at Benjamin from beneath her eyelashes.

  He caught her in the act, and swooped in to steal a quick kiss.

  “Not in front of the artist,” she scolded him under her breath as her cheeks flushed with heat.

  Benjamin’s voice lowered huskily. “He’s too busy working.”

  “What of the other people?” she reminded him, darting a glance over her shoulder at the hundreds of Londoners enjoying the beautiful weather and equally gorgeous flowers.

  “Do face forward, Your Grace,” Benjamin said with mock severity. “A professional artist is attempting to paint our portrait.”

  Noelle pinched his thigh. “Beast.”

  She had never been happier.

  London was even larger than she had anticipated, and full of many more pleasures. She had made countless new friends, joined book clubs and charitable societies. And every moment that Parliament was not in session, Benjamin was by her side.

  Last night, they had spent an exhilarating evening in his brand new opera box at the Royal Theatre. The night before, a soirée at the Ormondton residence. She and Benjamin had spent so much time waltzing in each other’s arms these past few months, Noelle was once again in need of new dancing slippers.

  The very best problem to have.

  She received weekly updates from her apprentices in the counting house. The competent new team had the accounts well in hand. It felt like a miracle.

  Noelle could enjoy her Season in London, and then enjoy the holiday season in Cressmouth. She leaned her head into Benjamin’s shoulder and smiled contentedly. Where they were on the map didn’t matter.

  Anywhere they could be together was home.

  Epilogue

  The following December

  Christmas, England

  “I want a ride to the play!” called a lad bundled in so much winter clothing his face was barely visible.

  With a practiced hand, Benjamin guided his sleigh to the side of the road. “Climb aboard. I believe there is an inch or two of room left.”

  His wife unsuccessfully stifled a giggle as the village children behind them jostled each other like a box of puppies to make room for the new arrival.

  Although The Winter’s Tale would not begin for another hour, this was their fifth trip through the town. Benjamin was starting to suspect that the children fled the amphitheater as soon as they arrived in order to sneak a sleigh ride again and again. Not that he minded.

  Although his calendar was now split evenly between two worlds, his heart belonged wholly with the woman at his side.

  Some high-in-the-instep aristocrats looked down their snobbish noses at a duke making a love match, but Benjamin had no regrets whatsoever. Indeed, their united efforts toward making a difference in others’ lives had made them something of a favorite in many circles.

  Noelle had quickly become the perfect wife and partner. Over the past year, they shared intimate discussions about politics over matching cups of mint tea, and then spent blissful hours in the London whirl enjoying concerts and soirées and fireworks in the gardens. Her innate grace and sweetness had won plenty of new friends.

  Life together in Cressmouth was just as delightful. He and Noelle had decided to build a private cottage rather than reside in the castle, and Benjamin could not be happier with that decision. He had come to love the sound of blustery winter wind outside while he and his wife heated up the evenings inside. He loved Noelle.

  He lifted the brim of her bonnet to plant a quick kiss on one of her rosy cheeks.

  “No kissing!” cried a chorus o
f young voices in the back from the sleigh.

  A pelting of snowballs to the back of Benjamin’s greatcoat immediately followed.

  He scooped up whatever snow he could and tossed it back over his shoulder as he had done every other time he had temporarily “forgotten” the children’s no kissing rule.

  They screamed with delight as the loosely packed snow rained down on them in flutters of snowflakes.

  “Here we are,” Benjamin called out as he pulled the sleigh before the amphitheater. “Out you go. Find the best seats in the house!”

  The children tumbled out of the sleigh and streamed toward the stage, but Benjamin had no doubt half a dozen would find their way back onto his path in the next quarter hour. Benjamin loved it. Moments like these were how holiday traditions were born.

  “Happy Christmas to all!” Noelle laughingly called toward the children’s retreating backs.

  Benjamin nuzzled the curve of her neck. “And to us… a sizzling night.”

  His favorite tradition of all.

  * * *

  THE END

  What will happen when Penelope the no-nonsense perfumer sets her scientific sights on rakish scoundrel, “Saint Nick”?

  Find out in Kiss of a Duke, the next romance in the 12 Dukes of Christmas series!

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