“Another Christmas Alone,” She Thought — Until a Duke’s Carriage Broke Down at Her Gate
Chapter 22
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"Pickles, that is quite enough." The terrier ignored her. "Your enthusiasm for destruction is becoming deeply concerning."A familiar voice answered from behind her: "I believe he and my carriage have much in common."Rosamond turned. Julian stood beside the garden gate: he wore a dark blue coat, polished boots, and a smile that made the cold February morning seem unexpectedly bright. For a moment, she forgot every sensible greeting she had prepared."Julian."He approached. "Rosamond."She smiled so widely that she could not conceal it. "You came.""I promised.""Yes. But promises are sometimes easier to make than keep."His expression grew serious. "Not this one."Something warm moved through her chest.Then Pickles discovered their visitor. The terrier rushed forward, barking furiously. Julian looked down. "Ah, my old adversary." Pickles leapt against his boots.Rosamond laughed. "I believe he remembers you.""Or the toast?""Probably the toast."Julian bent to greet him. Rosamond watched with a tenderness she was no longer willing to deny.They spent the afternoon walking through the orchard. The snow had melted from the lower fields, leaving the earth dark and damp beneath the bare trees. Rosamond showed Julian the new repairs to the gardener's cottage; he listened as she explained the difficulties of maintaining old buildings during winter. Then he surprised her by asking detailed questions about the orchard's accounts."You remember our conversation?" she asked."Of course.""I had assumed you were merely being polite.""Rosamond, I am a duke. I have been trained to appear interested in many subjects.""And?""I have never been particularly good at pretending."She laughed; Julian smiled."I ask because your work interests me."She looked at him. "Most gentlemen consider estate accounts an unsuitable topic for a lady.""Most gentlemen are remarkably dull.""An alarming judgment from one of their number.""I speak from extensive experience."They walked toward the old apple tree. Julian stopped beside it. "This is where you told me that you would rather remain unmarried than surrender your independence."Rosamond nodded. "Yes.""I have thought about that conversation often.""Have you?""Very often." He looked toward the distant cottage. "I spent years allowing other people to decide what my life ought to look like: my mother, my advisers, society.""And now?""Now, I am beginning to think that the life worth living is the one a person chooses deliberately."Rosamond smiled. "My aunt would have approved."Julian turned toward her. "I should like to ask you something.""Certainly.""If a gentleman wished to court you, what would you expect of him?"Rosamond stopped walking. She looked at him. "Is this a hypothetical question?""Not particularly."Her heart began to race. Julian waited.She considered her answer. "I would expect honesty."He nodded."Respect.""Of course."