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But a small part of her was still slightly disappointed that he hadn’t hugged her back.

The duke led her towards a large overgrown hedge. Why would he bring her here? Then he pushed back some of the branches, revealing another pathway she’d never seen.

‘Careful,’ he warned, as she ducked her head and went inside.

He followed, and then she realised that this had once been a garden maze. The boxwood hedges were enormous and desperately needed trimming, but she could tell that they had been symmetrical in the past. The duke led her in one direction, then another, until they reached the centre of the maze.

But there was nothing there except an open space and a single bench.

‘Oh, this is magical, Your Grace. I would build a summerhouse here, if I could.’ She could imagine the octagonal outbuilding with four stone benches beneath the walls and large windows to let in the light and air. Or better, she could put in a comfortable chaise longue for reading books in the garden. ‘Can’t you just imagine it?’

He gave a shrug and sat down on the stone bench, wincing at the cold. ‘I suppose. If that’s what you want.’

‘It is, yes.’ Charlotte sat beside him on the freezing stone bench and smiled. ‘I think I will work on the plans during the winter and have it built in the spring.’ She glanced around and asked, ‘Did your mother or father build this maze? It’s wonderful.’ The snow coating the overgrown hedges dusted the greenery with a magical layer of white.

‘I believe my mother commissioned it, years ago.’

She smiled at the hedge, feeling wistful. ‘I love it. And I wish I could have known her.’ If the duchess had imagined this maze, she felt certain they would have been friends.

‘You would have had a great deal in common,’ he admitted. There was a heaviness in his voice, as if he had been close to his mother, but Charlotte didn’t pry.

Instead, she had other questions about his family, particularly his brother, who had been at their wedding. ‘Do you only have one brother?’ She vaguely recalled the dark-haired young man, but she’d barely spoken to him beyond an introduction and receiving his well wishes.

He hesitated and then said, ‘One living brother, yes. Thornton.’

‘I’m so sorry.’ She was beginning to feel as if every time she spoke, she brought up another painful part of his past. ‘Where is your brother now? Does he not live here?’

The duke’s expression shifted to a wry smile. ‘You wouldn’t want that. Thornton is rebellious and fiercely independent. He looks after Wintermere, one of our smaller estates.’

‘So, it’s just us, then?’

‘For now, yes.’

She wondered if he was referring to future children, and the thought evoked her concern about the delayed wedding night. But she pushed it back, even as her wayward imagination conjured the image of this man lying beside her in bed. Every part of her seemed to warm with embarrassment.

The duke paused and asked, ‘What about you? You have your sister, and don’t you have a younger brother as well?’

She nodded. ‘Nelson is away at school.’

He said nothing else, and the silence hung between them. A few snowflakes fluttered down from the sky, dusting their cheeks.

Abruptly, Charlotte drew her attention to her hands. She couldn’t think of what to say now, and an invisible tension seemed to rise between them.

Less than three weeks. She let out a slow breath, trying to calm herself. But the duke seemed to sense her apprehension.

‘You needn’t be afraid of me, Charlotte,’ he said quietly. ‘I would never hurt you.’

‘I know. I’m just…nervous about being your wife.’ She lifted her gaze and saw the intensity in his grey eyes. The duke was quite handsome, and there was something to be said about having an attractive husband. His strong jaw, the firm mouth…all of it captivated her.

‘Why would you be nervous?’ There was curiosity in his tone, but her embarrassment only heightened. She was torn between being honest and maintaining the quiet discretion of a duchess.

‘Because I don’t…really know what you want from me. I don’t know how to behave or what to expect.’

He sat beside her, staring at the snow. ‘Nothing has changed, Charlotte. Our marriage is still an arrangement, as it has always been. We will both simply abide by our rules.’

‘But we’re still virtually strangers.’ Her face flamed, and she added, ‘We are supposed to consummate our marriage in a few weeks, and yet, when I gave you a slight hug, you didn’t want that either.’

Embarrassment flooded her, but she forced herself to ask, ‘Am I supposed to never show affection towards you? Or…or touch you?’