Chapter One

The countryside had its benefits, he supposed. However, right now, Charles wasn’t privy to a single one.

He scratched the back of his neck and stretched his legs as far as they could go in the cramped carriage, resisting the urge to call out to the coachman and tell him to turn the carriage around. He was here for a purpose, he had to remind himself. No matter how bored he was destined to be over the next few days, there was a reason he decided to leave London. He felt restless but dismissed the thought of taking one of the horses and going ahead.

Sadly, he had to remind himself of that fact numerous times before he finally pulled into the sprawling front garden of Crompton Estate. The manor before him betrayed the wealth of the Marquess of Crompton, with marble pillars and balconies stretching from the front of the manor to its sides. Charles let out a breath of relief as the carriage pulled to a stop and he was free to get out and truly stretch his legs.

“At last,” he breathed to the coachman who had quickly dismounted from the front of the carriage and began pulling Charles’ luggage out the back. “I thought we would never arrive.”

“It is a pity the horses could not move any faster, Your Grace,” the coachman said with a soft chuckle. “I’m afraid they are quite thirsty themselves.”

“Go ahead then,” Charles dismissed, closing his eyes and stretching his neck. He hated sitting in one place for too long. “Go do what you must. I’m sure there is a stable hand about who can assist you.”

“And what of the luggage, Your Grace?”

“Someone else will be able to take care of it.” Charles looked at the man’s weathered face. “Go on now. We wouldn’t want them to collapse on us, now do we?.”

The coachman chuckled at that. “No, we do not, As you wish, Your Grace.”

Charles watched as the older man unhooked the horses from the carriage and began leading the carriage down a beaten path to the left of the driveway. Only then did Charles realize that they were not alone. Kneeling in the stones by the front porch was a woman, her blue bonnet shielding her face from view. She wore a pair of dark, leather gloves that were already covered in fresh dirt. He frowned a little. She worked quietly—either she was ignoring his arrival or was not aware that he was there.

Charles picked up his trunks and approached slowly from behind, careful not to startle her. She did not acknowledge him as she picked up her trowel and began digging a hole in the soft earth. Up close, he noticed that the apron meant to cover her dress was already quite dirty and her exposed arms were rather toned and glistening with a faint sheen of sweat. He supposed it was not unusual for a servant girl used to hard work to have a muscular build.

“Pardon me, miss,” he called.

She paused. Then slowly she turned her head to the side, finally noticing him. Now he could only see the tip of her chin and a bit of her nose. She said nothing.

“I don’t wish to disturb you,” he told her. “But I need assistance with my luggage. Perhaps you could fetch someone to help me?”

The woman sat the trowel down and got to a stand, brushing the loose dirt from her apron though it hardly helped in cleaning it. Then she turned to face him.

Charles felt as if his breath had been ripped from his lungs. She was…utterly beautiful.

His lips parted as he drank her in, the world fading out of existence the moment their eyes met. She had curly brown hair tucked under that blue bonnet of hers, a few tendrils framing her oval face. Her eyelashes were nearly as thick as her eyebrows, and a soft and knowing smile touched her small, pink lips. Now that she faced him fully, he noticed that her entire build was quite athletic and she stood a little taller than most ladies he’d met before. Even under layers of dirt and grime, she shone like a diamond.

“Ah, I see,” she spoke, and the sound was enough to break him out of his trance. Charles blinked, his mind muddled. What just happened to him? “Are you Lord Crompton’s friend?”

Charles took a moment to respond. He wasn’t used to a servant speaking to him with such familiarity, but he didn’t know how much of his speechlessness could be credited to her stunning visage.

Humor sparked in her eyes. She tilted her head slightly to the left. “Well?”

“Ah,” he cleared his throat, “well, yes, you are right. The Marquess of Crompton invited me.”

She lowered her deep brown eyes to the trunks in his hands. Without a word, she took one of the trunks from his hand.

“Oh, you needn’t strain yourself, miss,” Charles told her quickly, though, with strong-looking arms such as hers, it was a moot point. “If you would fetch me a footman to assist me?—”

“I can handle it just fine, thank you,” she answered lightly, a soft smile touching her lips. “Well, come with me then.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned and began making her way up the steps of the front porch. Charles stared after her for a moment, completely stunned. Then, as if legs moved of their own accord, he began trailing after her.

He followed her past the threshold of the front door then paused when she began to undo the laces of her bonnet. The moment the bonnet was off, she twisted her head and her brown curls went tumbling down the length of her back. She raked her fingers through her hair, then looked over her shoulder at him.

“He should be in his study,” she told him. “I will take you?—”

“Lady Jane!”

Lady?

Charles blinked when a portly man came bustling up to her, his brow creased with concern. He quickly took the trunk from her hand.

“Look at the state of you!” the man fussed, taking her bonnet. “A lady should not be doing such things!”

“Oh, there’s no need to panic so, Harold,” she said dismissively. “I was merely attempting to assist, that’s all. It was no struggle at all.”

“I can see that, my lady. And you are simply covered in dirt! I was about to inform Lord and Lady Crompton that you are here for a visit, but you couldn’t possibly go in this state?—”

“A little washing up is all I need to do,” she answered lightly, as if she was completely used to the man’s anxious demeanor. Jane shifted mirthful eyes to Charles, as if she found his obvious shock hilarious. “And you are being rude to your master’s guest. The Duke of Southampton is here.”

Harold straightened instantly, his face growing bright red as he finally faced Charles. He bowed nearly all the way to the floor. “Please forgive the rudeness, Your Grace! Welcome to Crompton Manor.”

“All is forgiven,” Charles murmured. He barely paid the butler any attention. He didn’t take his eyes off Jane, who turned to face him. “It is I who should be apologizing, my lady. I had mistaken you for one of the servants, I’m afraid.”

“I could see that,” she teased. “But I must say that I am rather impressed. For a duke speaking to a servant, you were rather…”

“Charming?” he couldn’t help but offer.

“Respectful,” she ended with ease. “Charming is yet to be determined.”

Charles couldn’t help but laugh at that. His shock was fading, the bits and pieces of information morphing perfectly together. He could understand that the beautiful woman before him was a lady, though his mind was still struggling to understand why a beauty such as she would be content to garden with such disregard.

“You must forgive me again,” he said. “I have been quite befuddled until recently, so I am not my usual self.”

“And does your usual self apologize this much?” she asked with a raised brow.

“Only when the occasion calls for it. I am nothing if not humble.”

“Ah, I see. Humble and charming? I must be honored to speak with such a perfect gentleman such as yourself.”

“At least you are aware of it.”

She laughed, the sound husky and inviting. It brought a grin to Charles’ lips and his mind spun with ways to bring it out again.

Before he could think of anything, however, a dark-haired gentleman rounded the corner, eyes falling instantly on the two of them. On his heels was a lovely, blond-haired lady who hardly stood tall enough to reach his shoulders. The Marquess and Marchioness of Crompton had always been a lovely couple and their years together had not diminished that in the slightest.

“Charles!” the marquess, Stephen Proudweather, boomed. “You lout! Why didn’t you send word that you would be arriving this early?”

“You know how he can be, Stephen,” his wife, Louisa, said with a smile. “I’m sure he just wanted to surprise you.”

“You know me too well, Louisa.” Charles was very aware of Jane taking a step back as his old friend approached him. Stephen didn’t hesitate to throw his arms around him, patting his back with a laugh.

“Welcome to Crompton,” Stephen greeted, speaking as loud as ever. “I’m happy you could make it.”

“You should be grateful too,” Charles told him. “You know I am not fond of the countryside. Had it not been for Louisa, I would have stayed right where I was.”

Stephen barked a laugh, nearly drowning out Louisa’s dainty giggles. She stepped forward and pressed a kiss on Charles’ cheek. “Oh, you aren’t fooling anyone,” she teased. “We know you were just as happy to receive the invitation as we were to send it.”

“Hush now,” Charles whispered. “Your husband doesn’t need to know that.”

Laughter went up in the foyer. For some reason, Charles caught himself glancing back at Jane, wondering if she was joining in with laughter. If she was, it wasn’t obvious—she only wore a smile.

“Oh!” Louisa seemed to have just noticed that Jane was there. “Jane, what have you been up to?”

“I was stopping by for a visit when I noticed that your flowers were being crowded with weeds,” Jane explained. “Of course, I had to take care of them instantly so I had Harold fetch me a trowel, an apron, and a pair of gloves so that I could get to work.”

Lord and Lady Crompton looked at Harold—who had been hovering nearby—and Charles had never seen a butler look so shamed. But their attention quickly returned to Jane. Neither one of them seemed very surprised by what Jane had said.

“His Grace arrived shortly after I began,” Jane continued to explain. “And I recall you telling me that you were expecting the Duke of Southampton to pay a visit, so I assumed he had arrived.”

“Ah, then you two have already met then?” Stephen asked, looking between the two of them.

“We have,” Charles answered.

“Have we?” Jane challenged with a small smile.

Charles was saved from thinking of a response when Louisa said, “Oh, well proper introduction can be made over tea! Stephen, why don’t you take Charles to the drawing room? Jane and I will be right with you.”

Stephen nodded at his wife’s request. “Don’t be too long now.”

Louisa’s eyes sparkled with happiness and mirth as she nodded. “I shan’t,” she promised. Then she went to Jane’s side, linking their arms. They walked off, murmuring to each other.

“Charles?” Stephen’s voice broke him out of the trance Jane’s departure was steadily sinking him into. He looked at his friend’s face, unsurprised to see the curious look Stephen was giving him.

“Shall we go then?” Charles suggested before Stephen could question him. He walked off, though he hadn’t a clue where he was going. “I must tell you all about how dreadfully mundane my trip was. I’m sure you would love to hear all about it.”

“Perhaps after I have a glass or two of wine,” Stephen sighed, making Charles laugh.

Together they made their way toward a hallway, with Stephen leading the way. Charles couldn’t help but glance back at Jane’s departing figure.

His heart skipped a beat when he noticed she was looking back at him. Her lips curved into a smile, then she faced forward once more. Charles grinned to himself.

He was right. The countryside had its benefits, after all.