Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

" G ood morning, Mrs. Potts," Beatrice greeted with a warm smile.

The morning sun was high in the sky when Beatrice entered the kitchen, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She found the cook bustling about, preparing the day's meals.

Mrs. Potts turned, her round face lighting up at the sight of the young Duchess. "Good morning, Your Grace! What brings you to the kitchen this fine day?"

Beatrice leaned against the counter, her fingers tapping lightly on the surface. "I was hoping you could help me with a little surprise. I'd like to pack a picnic lunch for His Grace and myself. We're going for a walk on the beach, and I thought it would be nice to enjoy a meal there."

Mrs. Potts clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with delight. "Oh, what a wonderful idea, Your Grace! I'll prepare a basket for you right away. Some cold meats, cheeses, fresh bread, and perhaps a few of those lemon tarts His Grace loves so much?"

Beatrice nodded, a grin spreading across her face. "That sounds perfect, Mrs. Potts. Thank you so much."

As Mrs. Potts set about preparing the picnic basket, Beatrice made her way to Kenneth's study. She paused outside the door, taking a deep breath before knocking softly.

"Come in," his voice called from within.

Beatrice stepped inside, her eyes taking a moment to adjust to the slightly dimmer light.

Kenneth sat at his desk, surrounded by ledgers and papers, his brow furrowed in concentration. He looked up as she entered, his expression softening at the sight of her.

"Beatrice," he said with a hint of surprise in his voice, "is everything all right?"

She smiled, moving closer to the desk. "Everything is wonderful, actually. I was hoping you might join me for a walk on the beach. Mrs. Potts is preparing a picnic lunch for us."

Kenneth glanced at the papers scattered across his desk, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. But as he looked back at her, at the hopeful expression on her face, his resolve melted.

"A walk and a picnic sound lovely," he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Just give me a moment to tidy up here."

Beatrice watched as he gathered the papers, stacking them neatly and setting them aside. There was something endearing about the way he moved, the careful precision of his actions.

As he stood up, offering her his arm, Beatrice felt a warmth spread through her. This was a side of Kenneth she was just beginning to know, a side that was relaxed and open.

They made their way to the kitchen, where Mrs. Potts had a large wicker basket waiting for them. She handed it to Kenneth with a knowing smile.

"Enjoy your picnic, Your Graces. And don't forget to bring back the basket when you're done!"

Beatrice laughed, thanking Mrs. Potts once again before they set off. The walk to the sea was pleasant, the sun warm on their faces and the breeze carrying the scent of salt and wildflowers.

As they neared the shore, Beatrice took a deep breath, the familiar sight of the waves crashing against the sand filling her with a sense of peace. She turned to Kenneth, her eyes bright.

"I've been wanting to spend more time here," she explained, gesturing to the sprawling beach before them. "It helps me capture the essence of the sea in my paintings. There's something about the way the light glances off the water, the way the colors shift with each passing hour."

Kenneth nodded, following her gaze. "I can see why it captivates you. It's a view that never gets old, no matter how many times you see it."

They found a spot near the dunes, spreading out a soft blanket from the basket. As they unpacked the food, Beatrice couldn't help but marvel at the spread Mrs. Potts had prepared. There were slices of cold roast beef, wedges of sharp cheese, crusty bread still warm from the oven, and a variety of fresh fruits.

But it was the lemon tarts that caught Kenneth's eye. A boyish grin spread across his face as he reached for one. "Mrs. Potts certainly knows my weaknesses." He chuckled, taking a bite of the tart and closing his eyes in appreciation.

Beatrice watched him, a fondness blooming in her chest. It was rare to see him so unguarded, so openly enjoying the simple pleasures of life.

They ate at a leisurely pace, their conversation flowing easily from art to literature to childhood memories.

"Tell me more about your childhood adventures," Kenneth said, his eyes sparkling with curiosity as he reached for another slice of bread. "I want to know everything about the young Beatrice."

Beatrice laughed, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Oh, I was quite the troublemaker, I'm afraid. Always getting into scrapes and giving my poor governess heart palpitations."

Kenneth grinned, leaning forward. "I can hardly imagine you as a troublemaker," he teased, his voice lowering to a murmur. "Although, come to think of it, I'm not surprised at all. You've been driving me insane since the day we met."

Beatrice playfully smacked his arm, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Well, someone has to keep you on your toes, husband. We can't have you getting too comfortable now, can we?"

He chuckled, the warmth in his eyes growing. "And you do it so well, my dear. I daresay you're more effective than any of my advisors at keeping me on my toes." He reached out, boldly tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Now, do tell me about your youthful exploits. I'm all ears."

A shiver ran down her spine at his touch.

She leaned in, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Well, there was the time I decided I was going to climb the tallest tree in our garden. I was convinced I could see all the way to London from up there," she revealed, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on his lips. "And did you? Perhaps you caught a glimpse of a dashing young duke in the distance?"

Beatrice grinned ruefully. "I'm afraid not though that would have been quite the sight. I never made it that far. About halfway up, I lost my footing and fell. Broke my arm in two places."

Kenneth winced in sympathy. "Ouch. That must have been quite a tumble. I hope someone was there to catch you."

"Are you offering to be my personal protector, Your Grace ?" Beatrice asked coyly, allowing her fingers to intertwine with his.

"Always," Kenneth replied, his tone suddenly serious despite the playful glint in his eyes.

Beatrice's breath caught at the intensity of his gaze. She cleared her throat, continuing her story, "It was quite the ordeal. But you know, even as I lay there on the ground, crying and cradling my arm, I remember thinking that I couldn't wait to try again."

Kenneth chuckled, shaking his head in admiration. "That's the Beatrice I know. Always ready for another challenge, no matter the risk."

She met his gaze, her smile softening. "Well, what about you? Surely you have some tales of youthful misadventures to share. Or were you always the perfect, well-behaved little Duke?"

Kenneth laughed, his eyes glazing over with memories. "Perfect? Hardly. Oh, I have my fair share. Although my adventures were more calculated."

"Oh?" Beatrice leaned in, her eyes alight with interest. "Do tell. I'm most intrigued to hear about the wild escapades of young Kenneth Spencer."

"There was one time when my friends and I decided to ‘borrow' my father's best hunting horse for a midnight ride."

Beatrice's eyes widened. "Kenneth! How daring! Hmm. Perhaps I find this rebellious streak of yours rather attractive."

Kenneth's eyes flashed at her words. "Is that so? Perhaps I should misbehave more often, then." He shook his head. "It seemed like a grand idea at the time," he continued, his grin turning slightly sheepish. "Until we got lost in the woods and couldn't find our way back. We spent hours wandering around, trying to retrace our steps."

"And did you find your way home?" Beatrice asked, already guessing the answer. She leaned closer, her breath warm against his cheek. "Or should I have been there to guide you?"

Kenneth's breath hitched at her proximity. "Had you been there, my dear, I doubt I would have wanted to find my way home at all."

Beatrice snorted, slapping his arm playfully.

Clearing his throat, Kenneth shook his head ruefully. "Eventually. But not before my father had noticed the horse was missing and sent out a search party. Let's just say, he was not pleased when we finally turned up, dirty and exhausted with the horse in tow."

Beatrice giggled, picturing a young Kenneth, his hair tousled and his clothes muddy, facing his father's wrath. "Oh, I can only imagine. Though I must say, the image of you all disheveled is quite appealing."

"Is that so?" Kenneth murmured, his eyes darkening. "Perhaps I should arrange for us to get lost in the woods sometime, just the two of us."

Beatrice felt her cheeks flush at the suggestion. "And what would you do then, husband?"

His eyes darkened further at her question. "I would show you all the animalistic ways I could make you mine."

A shiver went down Beatrice's spine. One minute he was the uptight Duke, the next he was a man who would push her up against the tree and rip off her dress.

And oh, how she craved the latter.

"We do not need to get lost in the woods for you to do that, Duke," Beatrice heard herself respond.

Kenneth growled, and in a moment, he had her on her back with her wrists pinned above her head.

"Careful what you wish for, Duchess," he whispered in her ear, sending tingles down her neck, her chest, her stomach, and finally to her most secret parts.

"What if I do not want to be careful?" she teased, looking deep into his blue eyes.

"Then I shall make sure you get exactly what you're asking for," he replied, his voice a smoldering promise.

And with that, he claimed her lips with his own.