After the Sunday church services, Jenny would usually fill her pockets with an apple, a sandwich, and perhaps a few walnuts and head out for one of her solo hikes. She rarely attended the Sunday family meal and was off before either of her parents had a chance to object. However, they knew what delighted their daughter all too well, and would not have opposed in any case.

It was a wonderful summer’s morning, and she decided to take a trail she had not taken before after coming to a familiar fork in the trail. It was most inviting and led to a wooded area where she stopped by a stream and took out her ham sandwich and enjoyed it as she watched a group of minnows swimming upstream.

Resuming her hike, she soon came out of the wooded area and looked around. But she did not recognize any of the landscape and seeing a path ahead took that and started across a field.

Suddenly she felt a cold burst of air and looked up to see that clouds had gathered behind her and were threatening to unleash a storm at any moment. She studied where she was, and seeing a small shepherd’s hut, not far off, decided to head toward that.

She felt the first few drops of rain and she hurried her pace. Before she could reach the hut, the rains let loose and began to pelt her mercilessly.

“Young lady,” a voice shouted to her. She kept running but turned to see who it was. A man was riding toward her on a beautiful black horse and soon caught up with her.

“Miss, can I offer you a ride to the shelter. It looks as though we have both been caught off guard.”

“If you please…” she said and took his hand as he effortlessly pulled her up onto the back of the horse. They galloped toward the hut. Jenny put her arms around the gentleman’s waist—for she could clearly see he was a gentleman by the way he was dressed. And before very long, they arrived at the hut, dismounted, and ran to the door and went inside.

“Good heavens, where did that storm come from?” Jenny asked, shaking her head and trying to brush the rain off her dress before it completely soaked in.

“Are you from this area?” the gentleman asked.

“From Chatsworth.”

“Then you know how unpredictable our summer weather can be.”

Jenny laughed. “I am afraid I do. And it was stupid of me to go out walking without my shawl. But the weather was so nice when I started out—I just thought…”

“Thomas Haddington,” the man said, offering his hand.

“Jenny Barnett,” she said blushing slightly, realizing she was unchaperoned and alone with a strange gentleman in a most unseemly hut. “Thank you for rescuing me. I think I would have been soaked completely through if you had not come along.”

“Delighted to be of service,” Thomas said.

For a moment they both attended to their clothing then took a moment to look at each other.

“I think I am a bit lost,” Jenny said, “I thought I knew where I was, but I do not recognize this landscape.”

“You are no longer on public land, Miss Jenny. This is part of my estate.”

“Oh… I am so sorry.” Then she realized. “Thomas Haddington, you are the Duke of Pemberton, are you not?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Oh, Your Grace, I am so sorry for trespassing,” she said, taking a little curtsy and blushing.

Thomas laughed. “It is absolutely fine. It has been the custom for generations to allow free passage to the locals and I see no reason to change that custom now.”

“How very kind you are, Your Grace.”

“Not at all Miss Jenny. I feel a responsibility to accommodate the locals as best I can.”

Jenny suddenly became nervous when she finally had a moment to realize exactly how handsome this man was. She had seen him from time to time in the village, but always at a distance, and he had never come into their shop as he would have no reason to. He had his own staff at Pemberton and would not need to shop for baked goods in the village.

And then Jenny realized he, too, was staring at her with the sweetest smile.

“Miss Jenny, you look soaked through. Might I offer to take you to Pemberton Hall where you might dry off? Then I suggest some tea to warm us up?”

Jenny felt flustered and uncomfortable, but the Duke was so gentlemanly and kind, she could not refuse his offer as she felt quite miserable in her wet clothing.

“One of our chambermaids will be happy to assist you and make certain your clothes are properly dried,” he said, taking a step backward so as not to make her feel uncomfortable in his presence.

“Oh, yes… I feel quite drenched and certainly do not want to open myself up to a cold.”

“Then shall we?” he asked offering her his hand.

They went outside where it was still raining, but less so.

“If I may?” he asked as he grabbed hold of her waist and effortlessly lifted her onto the back of the horse.

She was astonished by the feelings of joy she felt as he put his hands around her. He made her feel for a second as though she was flying. The feeling startled her and again made her blush.

Thomas’s horse was strong and swift, and before long they had reached the front of Pemberton Hall where Thomas reined in the horse and again lifted Jenny down, as a groom came to take charge of the horse.

They scrambled inside, as the rain had picked up again, and Willoughby greeted them. Thomas gave immediate instruction for Miss Jenny’s care, and as she was being led away, Thomas called out, “Miss Jenny, I shall see you shortly. Willoughby, tea in the Reginald Parlor, if you please.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” he replied and led Jenny up the stairs and along a hallway to a comfortable looking blue bedroom.

“I shall have someone attend to you shortly, miss. There is a robe in the armoire if you wish to change right away. And I shall have your clothing dried and ready for you within the hour.”

“Thank you,” Jenny said overwhelmed by the whole experience. What had started out as a quiet Sunday hike had turned into a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

Before changing, she stood in the middle of the bedroom and marveled at the beauty of the room—the elegant furnishings; the fine silk draperies, the astonishing vistas from the windows. The rain let up and shafts of sunlight began to appear on the landscape.

And then there was this handsome man… Thomas Haddington… The very thought of him made goosebumps appear on her arms. Again, she blushed, and he was not even near her. She quickly shook her head, went to the armoire, and found the robe. She needed to focus on the simple task of undressing and getting her clothes dried.

“Hello, Miss, might I be of service,” the voice of the young maid asked as she came in the room.

“Oh, yes… these clothes need drying. I got caught in the storm and His Grace kindly offered to help me dry out.

“Let me help you, Miss,” the maid said as she came over and began to unbutton the back of Jenny’s dress.

Jenny had never had anyone help her undress before—except her mother when she was little. It felt both nice and embarrassing. And when she was undressed and had put on the robe, the maid took away her wet clothes and Jenny had nothing to do except enjoy the room and the softness of the fine cotton robe.

The maid returned with a beautiful dress and said, “Mr. Willoughby thought this might suit you until your clothes are dried. He says His Grace is expecting you for tea.”

“Oh… how kind.