Duchess Material

Twenty-Six

A fter a few days in Surrey, Will found his rhythm in the slower pace of the country. He still awoke at dawn, but now instead of hurrying to get dressed and prepare for an onslaught of activities, Will enjoyed a simple meal of tea and toast while leisurely reading. Since the London papers didn’t arrive until the afternoon, he began starting his day with a bit of a novel instead. He had fallen out of the habit of reading fiction years ago, but Cal had practically forced the first Inspector Dumond novel into Will’s hands and he quickly devoured it before moving on to the next.

Cal was usually up by nine and they breakfasted together while discussing their plans for the day, after which they each retreated to their separate areas of the house: Cal in the library and Will in the upstairs sitting room, as there was a small writing desk underneath a window that looked out over the back garden. Will often lost himself gazing at the lawn below, his thoughts floating between business, Cal’s future, his mother, and the remnants of his personal life.

Sometimes they had luncheon together, but not always. Then once Will had caught up on all the work he had neglected in the morning, he would take a rambling afternoon walk. Back in London, he spent most of his days cooped up inside various elegantly appointed rooms, but they couldn’t compete with good English countryside.

Upon returning, he would wash up and join Cal for supper followed by a quiet evening in the parlor.

“Perhaps you should spend more time here,” Cal replied one morning when Will announced that he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so at ease, nor slept so soundly.

But that was impossible. Aside from the never-ending demands of the dukedom, the Atkinsons’ property bordered their own. More than once he had inadvertently wandered to the top of the small hill that overlooked the inviting Georgian manor house, with its heavy boughs of wisteria framing the main entrance and curling lengths of ivy growing up the walls. It was nearly as familiar to him as his own childhood home. But even gazing at it from a safe distance still caused his heart to lurch.

No. He could not stay here.

Besides, Will had a country home of his own—several, in fact. Though none of them really felt like his. They were full of dusty antiques and family heirlooms that held no meaning for him. Will was simply the guardian of these properties and this title until it passed on to the next duke. But by God if he had a son Will would do everything in his power to keep it from becoming an albatross around the boy’s neck.

“Perhaps,” Will replied before changing the subject to the weather. It wasn’t the subtlest of responses, but Cal didn’t press him on it.

Later that day Father Lloyd, the new vicar, came to luncheon. He was a nice, quiet chap with a thin frame and hair as pale as cornsilk who put a gleam in Cal’s eye that Will hadn’t seen in years. It seemed a good idea to give the two of them time to visit alone, so once the plates were cleared, Will excused himself and went off on his daily ramble. This time he made sure to head in the opposite direction of the Atkinsons’ house, least his rebellious feet carry him there again.

Though spending more time at home was out of the question, Will did like the idea of being closer to Cal. Perhaps he could find a little place away from the London fishbowl and without the hefty ducal expectations that came with visiting his estates. A tidy cottage that had no need for a dozen servants to keep it running. A place where he could have true peace and privacy. A place where he could just be… himself. The thought spurred him onward and for the first time in weeks, he felt genuinely excited about something. Will crested another hill and stopped to catch his breath. As he scanned the verdant swells and dales before him, his eyes lit on something below.

The brook.

Will tugged on his collar and let out a sigh of envy. Would he were still a lad with the freedom to take an impromptu swim.

So do it, then, an appealing voice whispered. There’s no one about.

This vantage point gave him a clear view of the surrounding area, which was enticingly empty of people. No one to happen upon a naked duke. Will shifted on his feet. He could already feel the cool rush of water on his overheated skin. Before he could talk himself out of it, he was hurrying down the hillside, unbuttoning his shirt as he went.

Afterward, feeling quite refreshed and just a little bit naughty, Will lay on the bank to dry out. He closed his eyes against the warm sun and inhaled the dusky scent of ripe wildflowers and summer grass.

The Atkinson girls used to come here to make daisy crowns. Once, Phoebe had shyly given him her crown and he proudly put it on his head, hoping to make her burst into a fit of giggles. Instead, she beamed up at him with those big hazel eyes until he returned it and carelessly moved on to something else.

Only now did he realize she had meant it as a gift. And he had just tossed it aside.

Alex had been right. He was an idiot.

Will sat up and pulled on his damp shirt. His wet hair still clung to his scalp, but he couldn’t lay here any longer. He needed to move. To outrun these blasted memories. By the time he entered the house and stalked past the open parlor door toward the staircase, he was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t hear Cal until he practically shouted his name. Will paused on the first step. Father Lloyd was probably still here. It would be incredibly rude of him not to say goodbye, even in his current state of dishevelment. Will swallowed his sigh and headed back toward the parlor.

It was only once he had entered the room with no hope of escaping unnoticed that he realized it wasn’t the vicar sitting with his brother, but Phoebe herself.

As Will stopped dead in his tracks, he belatedly remembered that his damp shirt hung open at his throat and his sleeves were rolled to nearly his elbows, while his jacket was folded across his arm. In other words, he was scandalously undressed.

She’s seen you naked .

Unsurprisingly, the reminder didn’t help.

For her part, Phoebe’s cheeks had turned a particularly fetching shade of rose that suggested she had been equally caught off guard.

“Isn’t this a lovely surprise?” Cal grinned, blissfully unaware of the undercurrent of tension running between them. “Phoebe is staying next door for a few days and came by to say hello.”

Will blinked rapidly but the apparition did not fade. Phoebe was here . In the parlor. Looking like an ethereal maiden in white muslin, while a droplet of brook water slid down his back.

“Hello,” he replied. It felt as awkward as it sounded.

“I didn’t know you were home,” she said quickly—and accusingly. Then she stood up and the napkin on her lap fell onto the floor. “I should go.” Phoebe then turned to Cal. “It was so good to see you again.”

“You’re leaving?” Cal was obviously confused, but Phoebe was already headed for the doorway.

“Wait,” Will called out weakly as she rushed past him and exited the room, a delicate scent of fresh linen trailing in her wake. He couldn’t help the deep inhalation that followed and his eyes fluttered closed.

But Cal was too busy staring after her with open-mouthed astonishment to notice this pathetic display. “I don’t know what’s happened,” he said to Will. “We were having the most lovely chat.” Then he frowned in horror. “I hope I didn’t say something to offend her.”

“You didn’t,” Will said as he tore his gaze from the now empty doorway. “What is she doing here? In Surrey,” he added.

“Her school closed, poor thing. So Alex suggested she come home for a bit of rest.”

“What?” His mind whirled at the news while his heart ached for what she had lost. All that work had been for naught. She would be devastated.

But Will didn’t wait for Cal to respond. Those rebellious feet of his had already gone after Phoebe. And this time, Will would not stop them.

Phoebe raced down the front steps and cut across the lawn, propelled entirely by her own blinding sense of mortification. If she had any idea Will was there, she never would have set foot on the Margraves’ property, let alone their parlor .

Cal had been thrilled by her surprise visit and they quickly got lost catching up until his eyes suddenly lit at the sound of footsteps storming down the hall.

“Oh, that must be Will now.”

Will? Here?

Phoebe had been too stunned to respond, then desperately hoped she had misunderstood, until the man himself strode into the room and looked at her as if she was a ghost, so great was his shock. Entirely understandable given the remarks she had hurled at him during their last encounter. But now she was in his own home holding a biscuit and gaping at him like an idiot.

Somehow he had grown even more handsome over the last two months, though that could have been on account of how little clothing he was wearing. His shirt was open at the throat, revealing a glimpse of his naked chest, tan from the summer sun, and his hair was appealingly tousled—just as it had been the night they investigated the music hall, or the morning he lay asleep in her bed. In any case, he looked healthy and well rested and very surprised to see her.

Cal was asking him something about his walk, but Will’s dark eyes were solely fixed to her with alarming intensity. Phoebe didn’t care to wait to see his expression change to outrage once he recovered from his understandable shock, so instead she bolted.

My God, what must he think of her?

Though Will deserved her apology, that at least meant sending over a note first. Not showing up in the man’s home . She had nearly made it to the footpath that connected the two properties when someone called out her name. Phoebe glanced back and saw Will stalking down the lane. Her first instinct was to break into a run, but he would overtake her in another moment. Rather than make this even more awkward, Phoebe stopped and turned around to accept his ire. She owed him that much.

His gaze narrowed as he drew closer and Phoebe instinctively shut her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “I had no idea you were home.”

Her explanation was met by an excruciating silence.

“I know,” he finally murmured. Phoebe cracked one eye open, then the other. Well, he didn’t look angry.

He also hadn’t bothered to button his shirt. As he stepped closer, Phoebe noticed it was damp. Damp enough to show the outline of his chest. Which she had touched with her own hands.

“I came to see Cal,” she explained while forcing her gaze to meet his own.

One corner of his mouth pulled back, as if he were trying not to smile. “I know.” Then he swallowed and Phoebe was riveted by the movement of his bronzed throat.

Lord, she needed to get out of here.

“He said your school closed?”

Phoebe glanced up at the question, but the sympathy in his eyes was even more than she could bear. She had to look away. “The landlord got a better offer. It will be a department store.”

“I’m very sorry,” Will said. “What will you do now?”

Phoebe let out a grim laugh and turned back to him. “Not a clue. Alex said I should come here to clear my head and decide what to do next.”

Though that was not working out so well at the moment.

But Will gave a thoughtful nod. “I’ve found it can be helpful to break out of one’s routine now and then.”

“Oh?” That was surprising to hear. She couldn’t imagine Will ever feeling unsure about anything. He always seemed so certain, so secure about his place in the world. But then he looked down with a sheepish expression that squeezed her heart.

“London had become… too much. I needed to leave for a while.”

Understanding dawned on her. “I read about your actions in the papers.”

It had been impossible to avoid, given how much ink had been spilled in the papers both decrying and extolling his defection from the ruling party.

“It was long overdue,” he added dismissively, as if it weren’t the political scandal of the summer.

“Even so,” Phoebe said gently. “I think the bill you and Lord Tavistock proposed will do much good.”

Will met her gaze and his dark eyes flickered with an emotion she was dangerously tempted to call hope. “You do?”

Phoebe couldn’t stop from smiling at his eager tone and nodded.

“I appreciate that.” He returned her smile but then quickly sobered. “I’ve also spoken with Lord Fairbanks. He shouldn’t cause you any trouble, but please let me know immediately if he does.”

Phoebe tilted her head. “Did Alex not tell you? No, of course she didn’t,” she muttered at Will’s look of confusion. “She bought up his debts and threatened to ruin him if anything came out about myself or the Clarke sisters.”

His eyes widened as he processed the enormity of what Alex had taken on. “My God. That is… impressive.”

“And a little terrifying.”

“Two words that most certainly describe Alex,” Will added with a knowing smile Phoebe liked far too much. She glanced toward the footpath and he immediately noticed. “I’m sorry for keeping you,” he said, taking a step back. The instinct to reach for him was so strong that Phoebe had to force her hand into a tight fist. “I only wanted to make sure you didn’t leave on account of me. I won’t bother you.”

“No,” she said quickly. “It is I who should apologize. Coming into your home after…”

She couldn’t make herself say the words. After I rejected you.

But Will shook his head. “I haven’t been here in years. It belongs to Cal now. And he can welcome anyone he likes.”

Phoebe stared at him as he shifted in place. This man, who had the entire country at his beck and call, wasn’t even comfortable in the place of his birth.

“It’s still your home too, Will.” She then blushed again as his eyebrows rose in surprise. That remark had been far too overfamiliar. She didn’t deserve to say such things to him. Not anymore. Goodness, she was stepping in it today. “My sisters are coming tomorrow,” she added briskly, attempting to retain some degree of neighborly cordiality. “Perhaps… perhaps we will see you again.”

She made sure to say we , as she didn’t have the right to assume I .

He studied her for a moment before nodding. “Yes. Perhaps,” he said haltingly followed by a short bow. “Have a good evening.”

“You as well,” Phoebe replied, but he had already turned away. She stood in place as he strode toward the house and watched until he disappeared inside.

But he never looked back.