“Another Christmas Alone,” She Thought — Until a Duke’s Carriage Broke Down at Her Gate
Chapter 13
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His expression grew serious. "What do you mean?"Rosamond hesitated, then she smiled faintly. "At 29, unmarried and living in the countryside, I have apparently become a subject of great concern to several ladies in the village."Julian frowned. "Why?""Because I am not married.""That seems an insufficient reason for concern.""I quite agree.""Do you wish to marry?"The question surprised her. She looked toward the distant hedgerow. "I once did.""And now?"Rosamond considered her answer carefully. "I still believe marriage can be a wonderful thing, but I have seen too many women accept a life that makes them smaller simply because they were afraid of remaining alone."Julian said nothing."I would rather have a peaceful home of my own than become an ornament in someone else's."He looked at her with unmistakable respect. "That is a courageous decision.""Some call it stubbornness.""Courage and stubbornness are often confused."Rosamond smiled. "My aunt said something similar.""Then I find myself increasingly inclined to admire her.""She would have liked you."Julian looked at her. "Would she?""Eventually."He laughed. "Eventually?""She was suspicious of handsome gentlemen."His expression changed. "Handsome?"Rosamond froze; she had not intended to say that. Julian's smile grew."Miss Fairchild, have you just paid me a compliment?""I was describing my aunt's opinions.""Of handsome gentlemen.""Precisely.""And you believe I fall into that category?"Rosamond lifted her chin. "I believe you are becoming insufferable.""An accusation I have heard before."She began walking; Julian followed, smiling.But as they approached the cottage, Rosamond became aware of something she had not felt in a very long time: she was enjoying being admired. Not because Julian was a duke, not because he was handsome, but because he listened—he asked questions and cared about the answers, he laughed at her jokes without making her feel foolish, and when she spoke of the life she had chosen, he did not attempt to correct it.That, Rosamond thought, was far more dangerous than handsome features.On the second evening, Julian discovered the little writing desk in the corner of the sitting room. Rosamond was seated there, surrounded by papers."Am I disturbing you?" he asked."Not at all." She moved a ledger aside. "I was reviewing the cottage accounts.""On Christmas Day?""Even Christmas cannot persuade the roof to repair itself."Julian glanced at the figures. "May I?"Rosamond hesitated, then she handed him the ledger. He studied it for several moments."You manage the property yourself?""Yes.""The orchard, the grazing fields, the tenants' cottages?""With the help of Mr. Wilkins, who manages the outdoor work."Julian turned a page. "These accounts are exceptionally well kept."Rosamond looked surprised. "Thank you.""I mean it." He pointed to a column. "You have reduced maintenance expenses while increasing the orchard income."