Setting her quill aside, Laura sprinkled some red blotting sand across the page she’d just finished writing. She snuffed out the candle at the corner of her escritoire, for there was no longer a need for it, now that the sun had risen. Stretching, she considered returning to bed for a morning nap, but doing so would probably result in missing breakfast, and if she were honest, she was actually more hungry than tired.

So she rang for a maid to help her dress and then headed toward the stairs, her mind so preoccupied with the next chapter of the book she was working on, she failed to notice the man who approached from the other end of the hallway until he was suddenly directly before her.

“Lady Laura,” the Duke of Lamont spoke with a grave expression that made her feel like a naughty child about to be chastised. “I wasn’t aware you’re an early riser as well.”

“Perhaps because I tend to return to my bed at this time for another couple of hours.” She hoped she wasn’t being too blunt. Intent on softening her tone, she said, “Today is an exception, mostly because I am eager to indulge in breakfast. I’ve missed it for the last few days.”

The edge of his mouth quirked, and she felt compelled to follow the movement. It brought her attention straight to his mouth, and she realized as she studied it closely that it was far more sensual than she ever would have imagined, given his otherwise angular features and somber demeanor. His eyes were warm, though they held a haunted element to them. It made her wonder about the scar he wore on his soul. It was common knowledge he’d suffered after the war. What man wouldn’t have after losing his father and brother in an unexpected accident?

“I was actually going to go for an early ride myself, but perhaps I’ll accompany you instead. If you will allow it?”

“Certainly, Your Grace.” She’d received attention from gentlemen before but not from someone as powerful as Lamont. The idea of him potentially taking a fancy to her was, of course, ridiculous. Obviously, her romantic nature was overruling her logical mind. A man of his distinction would want a wife refined enough to fill the position of duchess, not someone who couldn’t even manage to keep the ink stains from her fingers.

He offered his arm and she accepted. “Have you been working on one of your novels?” he asked, acknowledging the black blotches that tainted her skin. Walking side by side, they started down the stairs.

Oh, if only she’d taken better care to clean it off before venturing out of her room. “You know I am an author?” It was a little surprising since she’d only recently been published and in a genre she doubted he’d have any interest in.

“Yes.” He kept silent while they descended two more steps, then quietly admitted, “I have recently read The Lady Risks It All and—”

She drew to a halt. “You have?” Keeping her surprise from her voice was impossible.

He looked down at her with a seriousness that made her wonder if he would ever smile in her presence. And she suddenly wished she had it in her to make him do so, even as his eyes held hers with an intensity that made her feel slightly lightheaded. “I enjoyed it. Your wit in the dialogues, the lavish descriptions, and the struggles both protagonists have to overcome in order to find happiness were riveting.”

“Riveting?” She could scarcely fathom how well the compliment pleased her.

“Well, yes. Does that surprise you?”

“Actually,” she would be honest with him, “it does rather. I never would have imagined a man might wish to read what I’ve written.”

“Then you do not give yourself enough credit.” He tugged her arm gently, and they resumed walking. “I was wondering,” he said, once they were half way down, “if you might like to join my wards and me later. I have promised to spend some time with them today.”

The proposal caught her completely off guard, for she’d barely recovered from the knowledge that he had actually read her book. Oh, to think he’d caught such a private insight of her mind – her secret passions, her hopes, and her dreams – was unnerving to say the least. “I—”

“Please say yes.” They reached the bottom of the stairs and began making their way toward the dining room at a gradual pace.

She smiled up at him. A flicker of resolve in the confines of his eyes alerted her to an underlying urgency well hidden beneath his cool façade. “Very well,” she agreed, and she immediately felt him relax. “But I must warn you, I have no experience with children.”

“You have six siblings.”

“Who are all fully grown.”

“Touché.” He allowed the faintest hint of a smile. It tugged at the edge of his lips. “Still, you needn’t worry. Beatrice and Gemma are easy to get along with. I don’t foresee any issues.”

“Perhaps not,” she said. They reached the dining room and stepped inside. “But you might not like the favor I wish to ask of you in return.”

Releasing her arm, he moved in order to face her more fully, blocking her from those who were already present at the table: her parents and Rachel. “Name it,” he told her. His hands were clasped behind his back, his head dipped slightly toward her as he spoke in a velvety voice that made her insides turn to goo.

Bracing herself for his refusal, she met his gaze squarely and said, “Come ice-skating with me later today.” His hesitation, or horror, was instantly apparent in the tightly drawn lines of his face. He opened his mouth, no doubt intent on protesting, so she hastily added, “Please.” She couldn’t fathom why his agreement in this was so important, but the activity was one she’d always enjoyed and perhaps…perhaps if he could find joy in it too, he’d forget the troubles weighing heavily upon his shoulders.

It took a few seconds, but he eventually nodded. “Very well. I will do it.” And then, in a much quieter voice that almost sounded seductive, he said, “But only because you are the one who is asking.”

Her heart practically leapt into her throat while her stomach felt as though it was turning into syrup. Silly girl. He was merely being kind and attentive – a proper duke who’d simply addled her brain with his charm. To read more into it was beyond foolish. Especially since he scarcely considered her again during breakfast, his interest entirely captured by her father. He was able to engage Lamont in the sort of conversation she would never be able to enjoy with anyone, since she’d never had a firm understanding of politics. Not that ladies were supposed to discuss such things, but she’d always believed it might be useful to at least comprehend the basics in order to better connect with the man she eventually married. Unfortunately, she’d long since realized that to suppose such a thing would be useless. She simply didn’t have the mind for it.

Distracting herself with the food, Laura devoured several pieces of bacon, two eggs, and a slice of toast. She was finishing off with a sip of tea when Lamont met her gaze. “Shall we?”

“The duke has asked me to join him and his charges today,” Laura explained to her parents, who were both looking extremely curious. Rachel paid her no mind, her attention fixed on Lord Belgrave, who’d recently arrived.

“Then by all means,” her mother said with a bright smile, “you mustn’t let us keep you.”

Acknowledging the comment with a nod, Laura rose and followed Lamont from the room. “I was thinking,” she said as soon as they were alone once more, “that Beatrice and Gemma might enjoy making Christmas decorations. There are still a few more garlands left to tie with ribbons, and we can also make some paper flowers.”

“I love how creative you are.”

His eyes twinkled ever so slightly as he said it, and once again she found herself thinking of him in a different light – in a please-kiss-me-and-I’ll-be-yours-forever kind of light. She had to stop these fanciful notions from creeping into her head. It couldn’t possibly be healthy.

“This is Lady Laura,” Lamont announced when they entered a sparse room Lady Duncaster had allocated as nursery. There were two sofas, a table, and a carpet on which various games had been strewn about. One of the two girls present was having a marvelous time with a rocking horse. The other lay on her belly, feet kicking in the air, while she drew a picture. Both jumped to attention at the sound of Lamont’s voice.

Curtsies followed, and then, “Pleased to make your acquaintance,” was spoken in unison.

Laura cast a hesitant glance in the duke’s direction, just in time to see the pleased expression on his face. She gave her attention back to the girls. “It’s a pleasure to make yours.” She stepped further into the room. “I am hoping to join you today, if you’ll let me.” She heard Lamont’s sharp intake of breath as he no doubt prepared to argue her intention to let the girls decide. Her hand reached out and grabbed hold of his arm, and the words he might have spoken immediately died on his lips.

“That depends,” Beatrice said. She looked Laura critically up and down.

“On what?” Laura asked.

“On whether or not you’re any fun.”

Doing her best to keep a straight face in the light of such an important criteria being pronounced, Laura lowered herself to a squat so she was at eye level with the twins. “I thought we might make Christmas decorations while drinking hot chocolate and eating petit fours.”

“What are petit fours?” Gemma asked.

“Little pastries filled with decadent cream and covered in an icing so rich it melts on your tongue.”

The twins’ eyes gleamed while smiles spread across their eager faces. “That sounds like a brilliant plan,” Beatrice exclaimed, and Gemma nodded.

“I’m glad you approve,” Laura told them. “I’ll place the order and send word to a footman about the supplies we’ll be requiring.” She rose, her gaze colliding with Lamont’s as she did so, and for a second her feet failed to move in the direction she needed to go. He was looking at her with a mixture of deep respect, gratitude, and… Surely not. For a man as solemn as he to regard a woman like her with such undeniable interest could not be possible. Could it? Her doubts increased as he schooled his features and went to study the picture Gemma had drawn.

Flustered and feeling terribly flushed, Laura rang for the maid, who arrived soon after. The footman she’d called returned a short while later carrying baskets filled with all kinds of supplies, and pine bundled under one arm. For the next hour, Laura immersed herself in the task of teaching Beatrice and Gemma how to make paper flowers. “They look marvelous,” she told them sincerely when they both managed to produce their first set on their own.

“Perhaps you can help me with this garland now?” Lamont asked. He’d been told to tie branches of pine together with red silk ribbons. “These bows are proving a nuisance.”

“Men are terrible at tying bows,” Gemma said. She deftly tied one of her own, attaching one flower to another.

“Your confidence in my abilities is most endearing,” Lamont told her dryly. The edge of humor to his tone was unmistakable, and when Laura looked at him, she saw he was finally smiling while concentrating on his work.

She sat beside him on the sofa. “Allow me to assist.”

“If you’ll hold this together here.” He showed her where with his own hands. “It will make tying it easier.”

She moved to do what he asked and then paused, aware she wouldn’t be able to grab the loose sprigs without touching him in the process. Swallowing, she edged slightly closer and did as he bade. An immediate spark of pleasure ignited her flesh when her skin brushed against his. His sharp inhale suggested he felt it too. His hands retreated slowly, drawing out the moment of contact until her chest tightened and heat erupted in her veins.

Unable to look at him for fear of what she might see, she kept her gaze firmly upon the garland they were making. But when he began to wrap the ribbon around it, his fingers invariably touched hers. The feelings they stirred – the unexpected need for greater contact – confounded her. Yes, she wrote of great romance and enduring love, but she had never imagined she would ever feel like this.

“Thank you,” he murmured while he tied the last bow.

Licking her lips, Laura tried to quell her frantic nerves. She felt as though she’d been cast into a turbulent storm and was unable to find a foothold. “It was my pleasure,” she told him demurely. What else could she say? To comprehend the effect he’d had on her… She shifted, adding more distance between them, and then hazarded a look at his face. He was watching her closely – so closely it burned.

“Would it disturb you if…” He paused, broke eye contact for a second before looking at her again. “If I told you I had no intention of accepting Lady Duncaster’s invitation until I discovered you would be here.”

“But spending Christmas with her has become something of a tradition for you in recent years. Has it not?”

“Yes, but I was actually planning to celebrate at my own estate this year. I thought it might be fun for Beatrice and Gemma to try planning the festivities. When I heard you would be visiting Thorncliff, however, I couldn’t stay away.”

The admission was overwhelming. “I don’t know what to say.” The words barely whispered past her lips.

He winced. “No. I don’t suppose you would.”

“Your Grace, I cannot think what reason you might have had to—”

“Can’t you?” He’d grabbed her hand with startling swiftness, his eyes wilder than she’d ever thought possible as he cast a quick glance at the twins, ensuring they were preoccupied with their work, before leaning toward her. “You have my highest regard, my lady, more so after—”

“Uncle?” Beatrice’s voice stopped him from proceeding. Slowly, he released Laura’s hand and stood, his focus now on his little charges, who were holding up their paper flowers. “What do you think? Aren’t they pretty?”

“Indeed they are,” he assured them while Laura watched with an ache in her heart. “But not nearly as pretty as you.”

He might not show pleasure in a physical way, but the duke’s ability to love was very much apparent in his treatment of his nieces. Each received a kiss on the cheek, and his attention never wavered from them while they showed him how each flower was made. And in that moment, Laura felt herself overcome by emotion. This man didn’t love her. How could he, after a few brief encounters? But the possibility for it was there, waiting to be explored.