The Duke Jokingly Asked Her to Find Him a Wife — “You May Be Looking at Her, Your Grace!”
And on one particularly pleasant Thursday, he encountered Cecily outside the bakery while she was attempting to balance a parcel of bread, a small basket, and a book that refused to remain tucked beneath her arm."Miss Bennett," he said, stepping forward, "may I rescue the book?"She looked up. "Your Grace, I believe it is the bread that requires rescuing.""Then I shall attempt both." He relieved her of the book and basket."Thank you.""May I accompany you? If you do not mind walking at an ordinary pace, I shall endeavor not to gallop."She laughed.They walked along the village square beneath the mild afternoon sun. Maximilian discovered that Cecily was fond of gardening, but had little talent for keeping roses alive; Cecily discovered that Maximilian had once attempted to repair a clock and succeeded only in making it strike 13."You cannot be serious," she said."I am afraid I am.""What happened to it?""My housekeeper removed it from my possession.""A wise woman.""She informed me that the household preferred time to remain reliable."Cecily laughed so freely that a passing child turned to look at them. Maximilian found himself wishing the walk were longer.At the entrance to the records office, he returned her basket. "Thank you for your company, Your Grace.""The pleasure was mine."She hesitated. "May I ask you a question?""Of course.""Do you often visit the village?""Not as often as I should.""You seem to have developed a remarkable interest in it recently.""I have.""And what has inspired this sudden enthusiasm?"Maximilian looked at her for a moment. "A growing appreciation of its inhabitants."Cecily smiled. "How very civic-minded of you!""I do my best."He bowed and departed before she could decide whether he had meant something more. She stood at the doorway, watching him walk away. Then she shook her head, smiling.The Duke was a dangerous gentleman: not because he was powerful, not because he was wealthy, but because he possessed the most inconvenient ability to make an ordinary Thursday feel like an occasion worth remembering.At Westhaven House, Maximilian's secretary began to notice a change in his employer's habits. His Grace had always been conscientious: he attended to estate business promptly, answered correspondence without unnecessary delay, and rarely neglected an obligation.But lately, he had developed an extraordinary habit of discovering urgent business in the village.
There were old tithe maps that supposedly required his personal inspection, a disputed right-of-way across a pasture that had not troubled anyone since the reign of King George II, and an inexplicable curiosity regarding the parish drainage records. Mr. Hale, who had managed the Duke's papers for 15 years, had never known His Grace to exhibit the slightest interest in parish drainage. Yet twice a week, Maximilian ordered his carriage—or more frequently, had his horse saddled—and rode down the winding lane toward the village square.At the records office, the lavender in the bowl near the door seemed to bloom more fragrantly with every visit.