Page 20 of A Duchess for his Family

“My apologies. I had not realized I was escorting royalty.”

“You are escorting explorers,” she corrected.

“Far more demanding.”

Their voices faded down the corridor, Nathaniel’s laughter mingling with Marjorie’s chatter and Amelia’s gentler corrections.

He turned toward the window. Beyond the glass, Rivermere lay ordered, green, and sunlit. Somewhere within it, two little girls were showing his oldest friend a map of secrets. Tomorrow, Miss Norton would come to see the house. Benedict told himself it was all for the girls.

It was a true statement.

He was increasingly uncertain whether it was the whole truth.

Chapter Six

Rivermere Hall was more beautiful than Sophia had expected, and far lonelier. The carriage turned through a pair of iron gates and followed a long avenue bordered by elms, their branches meeting overhead in a green, murmuring arch.

Beyond them, the house rose from the landscape with solemn grace of pale stone, tall windows, a sweep of steps, and ivy trained so neatly along one wing that even nature seemed to understand it had to behave at Rivermere.

Sophia’s mother leaned in before the carriage had fully stopped.

“A very fine estate,” she whispered. “A very fine estate, indeed.”

Sophia kept her gaze on the window. “Yes, Mama.”

“And dukes do not propose every day.”

“No, Mama.”

“Particularly not to young ladies who spend more time reading than being noticed.”

Sophia turned. “Mama.”

“I only speak from affection.”

Sophia doubted this, but said nothing.

The great doors opened before they reached the steps. Servants stood at attention with such silent precision that Sophia felt her own movements shrink in response. The entrance hall was handsome, polished, and cold, filled with marble, dark portraits, and a chandelier that looked as though it had been designed to impress rather than to welcome. Every chair stood exactly where it ought. Every vase was arranged with mathematical precision. Even the flowers seemed chosen for dignity rather than pleasure.

Then Amelia and Marjorie appeared at the top of the staircase, and the house changed at once.

“Miss Norton!” Marjorie cried, flying down three steps before remembering she had been told not to run.

She stopped, glanced guiltily toward the hall behind her, and descended the remaining steps with exaggerated slowness.

Amelia came after her more carefully, her smile shy but unmistakably warm. “We are very glad you came.”

Sophia felt her own smile answer before caution could prevent it. “So am I.”

Her mother leaned in again. “You see? Already attached.”

Sophia pretended to adjust her glove. The Duke of Rivermere entered then, tall and grave, composed in the manner Sophia now recognized as both habit and armor. He bowed to her mother, then to Sophia.

“Lady Keswick. Miss Norton. Thank you for coming.”

His voice was perfectly formal. Yet when his eyes moved, almost involuntarily, to the twins, something in his face eased by the smallest degree. The girls noticed, too. Sophia saw it in the way Amelia relaxed, and in the way Marjorie’s feet began to fidget as if affection, in that house, had to find some secret means of escape.

The visit began with the library. It was a magnificent room, long and high-windowed, lined from floor to ceiling with books. Sunlight fell across rich carpets and leather chairs. A ladder ran along brass rails. The air smelled of old paper, beeswax, and faint smoke from the hearth. Sophia stopped upon the threshold, unable to prevent a soft intake of breath.