Page 44 of The Duke's Only Desire

Chapter Twelve

Sophie nodded agreeting at the dozen or so villagers in the mercantile as Shay introduced them. How would she ever remember all their names? Yet she gave a bright smile, just as she had done all day to the other tenants they’d visited. “I’m so honored to meet all of you.”

They smiled and nodded in return, if a bit nervously at meeting their new duchess. Sophie didn’t blame them. Their quiet lives had been rocked once more by unexpected changes at the manor house.

She and Shay had spent the last few hours driving from farm to farm to meet the most important tenants and their families, and now he’d driven them to one last stop in the village of Pritchery, one of three villages on the estate. The sleigh glided smoothly over fields and down little lanes, and only a quiet shushing of the snow beneath its runners and the jangle of the horse’s harness disturbed the wintry silence around them.

Verymuch silent, as Shay said little to her as they rode. Whether the visit from Malcolm still weighed on his mind or whether he was apprehensive at visiting the tenants, she couldn’t have said. But he had certainly been uneasy, makingheruneasy, and most likely because of his scars. He kept the right half of his face turned away whenever he could, his collar raised high, and his hat pulled low.

Yet none of the villagers seemed to care what he looked like. They were simply happy to see him.

Sophie had the feeling that Shay hadn’t paid nearly enough visits to the tenants since the fire, despite all the recent evenings he’d spent at the tavern. The way word traveled quickly through the lanes that he’d come for a visit and had curious villagers hurrying to the mercantile was proof of that.

Shay leaned down to murmur into her ear. “Why don’t you look around the store? I need to speak to Mr. Rodgers about his barn, and you’ll be bored stiff with that conversation.”

“Thank you.” She gave a grateful sigh and turned away to explore the little store that had been stuffed to the gills with goods of all kinds, only to find a basket shoved up beneath her nose.

She took a step back in surprise.

“Your Grace, I’m Mrs. Jones, the owner’s wife.” The woman behind the wicker basket gave a teeteringly low curtsy. “We’re so honored to have you in our store.”

She smiled and accepted the basket. “And what a fine store you have! I’m certain to find all kinds of wonderful things here.”

Mrs. Jones beamed, speechless, leaving her husband to interject, “Thank you, Your Grace. Enjoy your shopping.” He took his wife’s arm and tugged her away toward the counter. “In peace.”

Sophie bit her lip to keep from laughing. So much attention! Well, she’d best enjoy it now, she supposed. In a couple of weeks, they would grow used to her and not give her a second glance. Honestly, she couldn’t wait for that.

She moved slowly around the store. Even though she focused her attention on the goods, she felt the curious stares of the villagers. She certainly didn’t need the soaps she’s placed into her basket—or the jars of jams with their squares of plaid fabric and twine topping each, two lengths of ribbon, a bit of lace—but she wanted to make an impression by buying a few things. Besides, she found shopping here far more pleasant than in those snobby boutiques in New Bond Street and the Burlington Arcade. Here, everything felt genuine.

She stopped in front of a small counter display of worked metal pieces, her curiosity snagged. Tiny enough to fit into the palm of her hand, the pieces had been cast and crafted into flowers, bells, even animals. A smile teased at her lips as she reached for a little metal robin whose round belly was rust red, its beak and eyes painted black.

Taking a quick glance at Shay to make certain he wasn’t watching, she secretively slipped it into her basket.

“I saw that,” a familiar voice said behind her. “You’ll be the first duchess in the history of Malvern to be gaoled for theft.”

Sophie smiled over her shoulder at Hannah Danvies, happy to see her new friend again. “Best give up thoughts of a darker career, then, should I?”

“Undoubtedly.”

With a soft laugh at Hannah’s teasing, Sophie placed her hand on the robin in the basket. “It’s a surprise gift for Shay. He’ll never expect it.”

Hannah’s eyes gleamed. “So things are going well at the manor house, I take it.”

Sophie’s chest tightened. She knew what Hannah meant. “Things are…better.”

“But not…”

She bit her bottom lip and admitted, “Not yet.”

Wordlessly, Hannah squeezed her arm.

Sophie handed the basket across the counter to Mrs. Jones. “Would you wrap these for me? Wait.” She dove her hand into the basket, then tucked the little bird into her fur muff. “I’ll take this one with me. Please charge the rest to the manor house’s account.”

“Of course, Your Grace.” The woman hurried to tally the items and wrap them in paper and string.

“How is your hand?” Hannah asked.

Sophie was relieved at the change in subject. “Healing very nicely, thanks to you, and almost completely back to normal now.”