Page 16 of A Highland Duke to Claim Her Heart

If he could not even be bothered to be here to greet her, she very much doubted it.

Back at the castle, Cassandra left Lillian and Mr. Greybourne to return to the house and decided to walk around the garden. She knew her mother would be inside, and she did not want to seeher yet. She still had not managed to order her own thoughts about Lord Christopher’s disappearance, and she did not need to hear her mother wailing that they would all be ruined.

It is just I that will be ruined,she thought gloomily, as she walked along the cobbled path past the hedgerows and rose bushes, toward the trees that made up the orchard.

She had just rounded the corner by a marble statue of a satyr when she saw Annabelle up ahead, sitting in the grass beneath a lemon tree, arranging pebbles in a line.

Cassandra approached slowly, so as not to startle her. As she neared, Annabelle looked up. At once, her face broke into a wide smile.

“Good morning, Lady Cassandra,” she said. She had the most adorable Scottish accent that Cassandra had ever heard, and she felt her heart swell as she looked down at the child, whose dark hair was falling in curls around her shoulders.

“Good morning, Mistress Annabelle,” she said. She crouched down, so that she was eye-level with her. “Are you playing a game?”

“Oh, yes,” Annabelle said happily. “I am building a bridge for the frog prince and princess to cross.”

“Oh? And where exactly are the frog prince and princess?” Cassandra asked, looking around.

“In my head,” Annabelle said, giggling. “It is a make-believe game!”

Cassandra laughed. “Well, it sounds very fun. But it seems to me that the bridge should go over something. A river, perhaps?” And she pulled the ribbon from her reticule and laid it out on the grass.

Annabelle studied the ribbon. “It is beautiful,” she sighed, touching it softly with a finger. “But rivers are not purple!”

“That is why we are using our imagination,” Cassandra said, laughing as she touched the tip of the girl’s nose. “The ribbon you can keep. I got it for you in the village just now.”

Annabelle’s eyes went wide. “Truly?” she gasped.

“Truly,” Cassandra said, beaming.

“Oh, thank you, thank you!” Annabelle seized the ribbon and held it in her hand, running her fingers over it. “It is so soft and smooth! Can we show Papa?”

“Of course—” Cassandra began, but Annabelle was already standing and dragging her further along the path, shouting for her father, her excitement enthusiastic and enthralling.

Annabelle pulled her out of the garden, then around the side of the house to a stone terrace that descended from French windows. The duke was standing near the edge of the terrace in a state of undress that almost made Cassandra gasp.

He had removed his jacket and his cravat, leaving him in nothing but his linen shirtsleeves, which he had rolled up to his elbow. She could see his tanned, strong forearms tensing as he helped to lift stones that had fallen from the terrace back into place, while a servant filled in the grout around the edges.

At the sound of his daughter’s cries, the duke turned, and Cassandra felt her mouth go dry. His shirt was unbuttoned, revealing some of his chest, which was broad, bronzed and muscular. She could see some dark hairs along his chest as well, glistening with sweat as he exerted himself in the hot sun, and she felt her cheeks heat at the sight of it.

Never before in her life had she seen a man like this. Certainly she had never seen somuchof one before. Even worse, he was not the man sheshouldbe looking at.

That man was in Amsterdam.

“Y-your Grace,” she stammered, dropping into a curtsy and lowering her eyes so that she couldn’t continue to stare. “Please excuse the interruption, we did not realize you were—”

“It is no interruption,” the duke said, his voice rich and deep and smooth. “I am always happy to be interrupted by my daughter.”

“Look at what Lady Cassandra got me!” Annabelle said, holding out the ribbon to her father. “Is not it beautiful?”

The duke lowered his head to study the ribbon. After a long moment, he looked up at Cassandra.

“It is beautiful,” he murmured. “And you purchased it for Annabelle?”

“Well…” Cassandra hesitated. He was looking at her so intensely it made her feel exposed, almost naked. “Yes. I wanted to thank her for making me feel so welcome. She may be only a child, but she is still the lady of the house.”

“Did you hear that, Papa?” Annabelle crowed proudly. “I am the lady of the house!”

A smile flickered across the duke’s face, then it was gone, replaced by something harder. “So you are,” he murmured, his eyes still fixed on Cassandra. “So you are.”