“You are laughing at her.”
“I am laughing at both of them,” Duncan said, watching the girls. “One cheats openly, and the other objects as if she has never bent a rule in her life.”
Charity glanced at Augusta, who was now trying to demonstrate proper pebble-throwing while Matilda ignored every instruction. “That is a fair description, unfortunately.”
They stood in silence for a short moment after that, listening to the water and the girls arguing, and Charity felt the quiet settle between them in a way that did not feel strained. It was strange. Not long ago, every conversation between them seemed to end in anger or embarrassment. Now she could stand beside him and say nothing at all, and it did not feel awkward.
Duncan spoke first.
“You arranged this to thank me,” Duncan said, looking at the water rather than at her. “Malcolm told me after you left the kitchens, so before you get angry with him, he did keep your secret for nearly a full day.”
“He told you?” Charity turned to him, startled.
“He told me enough to make sure I did not refuse and ruin your plan by being difficult on purpose,” Duncan said, and when she looked horrified, he added, with the smallest hint of dry humor, “You can stop looking like that. I am glad he told me. It let me pretend I did not know.”
“I should have known he would say something.”
“He says many things,” Duncan replied.
“I did want to thank you,” Charity said after a moment, and her tone changed when she saw he was listening seriously now. “Not only for the letter, though that mattered more than I can say properly. I wanted one afternoon when everything was notabout fear, or arrangements, or what my uncle might do next. I thought perhaps we all needed it.”
Duncan finally looked at her then.
“Aye. We did.”
She held his gaze for a moment, then looked away first, mostly to steady herself.
Matilda shouted from the water’s edge, “Charity, Augusta says I cannot throw near her face, and I think that is unfair when she keeps winning.”
“It is not unfair, and do not throw stones near anyone’s face,” Charity called back. “If I have to come over there, both of you lose.”
“That is tyranny,” Augusta called back, but she was smiling.
“It is excellent judgment,” Duncan said quietly, and Charity heard the approval in it and hated that such a small thing made her so happy.
They sat again after a while, and the girls returned only long enough to eat more and then run back to the water, leaving Charity and Duncan with a little space and no obvious reason to fill it with safe conversation.
Duncan rested his forearms on his knees and looked out toward the trees for a moment before speaking.
“There is something I should tell you before we are married,” Duncan said, and his tone was steady but different enough that Charity turned to him at once. “It is no scandal, so do not look alarmed, but it is part of why I made certain choices, and if we are to share a house, you should know it from me.”
Charity straightened slightly, immediately attentive. “All right.”
Duncan was quiet for a moment, as if deciding where to begin.
“My mother died when I was younger than I ought to have been to understand it properly,” Duncan said. “My father followed years later, and by then there had already been too much loss in the family for him to pretend the title would carry itself forward without effort. He was ill at the end, and he spoke of the dukedom as if it were a living thing placed in my hands.”
Charity watched him carefully and said nothing, since she could see he was choosing his words with more care than usual.
“He made me promise him,” Duncan continued, and his voice was flatter now, as if he disliked the memory but had decided to give it plainly anyway. “He wanted an heir secured, and I gave him my word that I would provide one and keep the line steady.”
Charity felt something tighten in her chest.
“That is a great deal to carry as a promise,” Charity said quietly.
“It was not optional,” Duncan replied, then looked at her as if correcting the harshness of that with honesty. “If a dying man asks for the last thing he believes he can still secure, there is not much room left to refuse and call yourself a decent son.”
Charity lowered her eyes for a second, then looked back at him.
