Page 66 of The Duke's Only Desire

Chapter Nineteen

Sophie yanked ata handful of tall weeds inside the walled garden, ripped them from the frozen ground with her gloved hands, and tossed them into the wooden wheelbarrow at her side.

As she straightened to combat exertion and catch her breath, a puff of white from her lips fogged the cold air. A third load of debris filled the wheelbarrow’s box, and she would mostly fill at least two—or three—more loads before she finished her work. The winter afternoon was bitterly cold and not at all the best time of year to be weeding, but she needed to be out in the garden, working with her hands and distracting herself from whatever was happening in Scotland. And from missing Shay.

She’d never realized how empty and cold her bed could be until he was no longer in it.

“He’ll be home soon,” she murmured to herself to lift her spirits. But it didn’t work, and she felt just as distressed as before.

Two days had passed since Shay had left for Scotland. Two agonizingly long days.

She’d said goodbye to him in the stable yard in the pale blue light of dawn, just as the sun peeked over the horizon and cast a false warmth across the fields and hills. He’d promised to send word as soon as he could, then mounted his gelding and leaneddown to give her a parting kiss, not caring that all the grooms and stable boys were watching. Neither did she.

Somehow, she’d managed to hold back her tears until he’d ridden down the lane and out of sight. She didn’t want him to think her weak or give him any additional cause for concern while he was away. The dead woman and her child were already enough for him to worry about.

As for keeping herself from worrying, she’d done her best to do exactly that by throwing herself into her plans for the gardens, orchards, and fallow fields. But even that proved little respite. After all, only so many plans could be made before the work actually began, and that wouldn’t happen until at least March when the ground would thaw enough to work it.

God bless Pearson! The man had done his best to distract her by breaking all kinds of protocols and inviting her to join him and the rest of the staff for games and music in the servants’ hall in the evenings. She wished she could say she’d enjoyed herself—oh, the servants were very nice and welcoming, but not even Darla and Henley’s hilarious attempt at acting out the novelPameladuring charades could distract her for more than a few minutes.

So this afternoon she was attacking the neglected beds of the walled garden. Hours spent here might not push Shay’s absence from her mind but perhaps it would exhaust her enough that she could sleep through the night.

She placed her hands on her lower back and stretched to ease out the kinks in her spine. She cast an eye at the length of border yet to be cleared and muttered, “And the entire next fortnight.”

With a fatigued breath, she pulled her gloves into place on her wrists and turned back toward the border.

“And what do we have here?” a voice called out from behind her. “Covered in dirt with her hands in the filth, working like a common farmwife…ah,duchess!”

Sophie stiffened as a lead knot twisted in her belly. “Uncle Malcolm.” She pulled in a breath to steel herself and turned to face him, bringing her spine ramrod straight. A tight smile greeted him. “How unexpected a visit…again.”

He cackled a dry laugh. “I would have thought a precious London lady like yourself would never set foot in a garden except for a lawn party.”

She wiped her dirty gloves on her apron. “More proof you don’t know me very well yet, Uncle Malcolm.”

“LordMalcolm,” he snapped out.

The little hairs at her nape began to tingle, and her smile faded. “Malvern isn’t here to meet with you. He’s been called away.”

“Good. Because I came to see theduchess.” The word was a cold sneer on his lips.

“On what business?”

“Your marriage.”

Thatturned the tingle at her nape into a brutal chill, one that slithered all the way down her spine. She darted an anxious glance around the garden but saw no one. Crenshaw must have gone to the garden shed for more supplies. She was alone with Malcolm and felt alarmingly exposed. “You’ve already visited once to extend your good wishes. You needn’t have troubled yourself with a second visit.” In other words…You will never be wanted here. Leave. Now.

“I’ve heard your marriage has changed,” he mused as he reached a gloved hand toward one of the uprooted weeds in the wheelbarrow. “You’ve consummated it. Quite vigorously, too.”

Despite the cold air, her face heated. “That is none of your concern.”

“Oh, but it is. I’m next in line to inherit the dukedom, and my two sons after me.” He wrinkled his nose distastefully at the clumps of frozen earth that clung to the weed’s roots. “But babiescome of rutting, and if my nephew has been happily plowing you, as I have been led to believe, you might just whelp a pup. That’s something I simply cannot allow.”

The coarseness of his words whipped her breath away. “You—youcannot allow…?” Stunned, she managed to pull herself together and find her voice. “You have no say about what happens in my marriage, especially regarding our children, of whom I hope to have many.” She lifted her chin, calling on a resolve she didn’t know she possessed. “Including many sons.”

“You need to leave your marriage.” Malcolm turned away from the wheelbarrow and leveled a harsh glare on her. “And you need to do it before you spawn an heir.”

A rush of disbelief poured over her. No one had ever dared speak to her like this before. For Malcolm to be so openly bold and nasty—this was the side of him Shay had warned her about.

“It will be far easier than you think,” he continued and tugged at the sleeves of his thick wool coat. “You can leave just as your own mother did, say she inspired you to end your own terrible marriage. After all, like mother, like daughter, and anyone who knows what my nephew has become since his brother died will easily believe you.”