Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

A gnes was nervous. She didn't like feeling nervous.

She ran her fingers along the spine of her book, wishing she could have a candle so she could immerse herself in it once more. The fact that she was traveling in a carriage would have made that rather difficult, and most certainly would have made her ill, but she thought it was far better than thinking about what she was heading towards.

The feeling bothered her. Just this morning, as she'd prepared for the long trip, Agnes had been excited. She'd talked about the visit all morning with her lady's maid and had set out with butterflies in her stomach. But the moment the coachman announced that they were about to arrive, those butterflies went up in flames of dread.

"Have you met him, Father?" Agnes asked. She knew the answer to her question but needed some bit of conversation before her own thoughts drove her mad. "Truly met him, I mean. I know you two are acquaintances but do you know him well?"

Solomon Parsons, the Viscount Sutton, sighed softly. "I have not met him myself, Agnes. So I do not know him well."

"Then how do you know he is the right one? He could very well be a lout of a man who treats me rather unfairly."

"I have on good record that he is not that sort of person," Solomon said softly.

"On whose account? Are they credible? And you know very well that a man may present himself differently behind closed doors."

"Why are you suddenly asking these questions, Agnes?" Mary Parsons, the Viscountess Sutton, spoke up. Agnes looked at her in surprise. She was certain her mother had been dozing for the past hour but she seemed rather alert.

Though the same could not be said about her brother. Paul Parsons was gently snoring next to Agnes. She couldn't believe he was still sleeping. After all, he was the reason they were late to arrive at Claymore Castle. Because he could not get himself out of bed, they'd left out two hours later than they should have. To think he still needed to sleep after all of that.

Granted, they had been traveling for six hours. They had taken a rest stop at an inn nearby but had continued onward to the duke's castle, wanting to make it there despite how late it was becoming. She supposed she could understand how such a long trip could tire anyone.

"I am merely curious," she answered her mother. "And I do believe I have every reason to be. It concerns my future, after all."

"It is only that you did not seem so curious before," her mother explained. "Nor did you seem too anxious."

"I am not anxious," Agnes protested, looking out the window to avoid her eyes even though she saw nothing but dark blurs. "As I said, this concerns my future. It would not do to take such an important thing like an arranged marriage lightly."

"You will like him, I'm sure," her father consoled.

"Yes, you may even grow to love him," her mother added.

Paul twisted in his seat and snored louder.

Agnes sent her brother a scathing glare and he scratched his cheek as if he could feel it in his sleep. Then she turned her eyes to her parents. "I do appreciate your optimism, but you must understand that an arranged marriage growing into a love match is not very common. You two are the only ones I know of."

"If it happened for us, I am certain it could happen for you as well," Solomon said. He reached for his wife's hand and squeezed. The adoring look they gave each other made Agnes' heart clench with hope.

Lord and Lady Sutton had been strangers to each other prior to their marriage. In fact, they had not even met each other until the wedding day itself, due to Mary coming down with a cold just a few weeks prior. It was as much an arranged marriage as any other one in London.

Every time Agnes heard of how their love had begun, she couldn't believe her parents could have been so short-sighted. It was obvious that they were meant for each other. Aside from the fact that they physically looked together—both with dark hair and dark eyes and their heights complementary to the other—their personalities balanced each other out. While Solomon tended to be serious and matter-of-fact, Mary liked to tease and poke fun at others, especially her husband.

Agnes took after her father for the most part. Not only had she inherited the shade of his hair, a lighter brown than Mary's, but she also adopted his love for knowledge, with a good eye for numbers and a keen indulgence in the sciences. And like her father, she hoped to find someone as light-hearted and jovial as her mother. Someone to balance her like her mother balanced her father. And then one day, someone to love her.

It made what was about to happen all the more nerve-wracking. This would be the third gentleman she would try to determine a future with. Agnes wasn't sure how many she could reject before she came across the right one.

She opened her mouth to ask something else but the carriage began veering to the right. Her heart banged against her ribcage when she saw that they had arrived at Claymore Castle.

It was stunning. The entire building was lit up so brilliantly it was a wonder she had not noticed it before their arrival. Even under the cover of darkness, she could admire the stately structure. Balconies lined the upper floors, bay windows adorning nearly every inch. Trellis crept up the left side of the castle and a few trees poked up next to it. Agnes was willing to bet the path that led to the left would bring her to the gardens.

"Paul!" Solomon called sharply.

Her brother jolted away. "Huh? What?"

"We have arrived," Mary drawled, her voice tinged with the barest hint of amusement. "Heavens with all the sleeping you have done, I doubt you will find rest tonight."

"You know how tired long trips make me, Mother," Paul said as he yawned. Shadows played across his face, deepening his jaw more than it actually was. For a few brief moments, he looked far older than his seven-and-ten years.

But then he sent Agnes a cheeky grin and said, "You look as if you wish to use the restroom."

Agnes scowled. Solomon sighed. Mary hid a smile.

"And you have dried drool on your cheek," Agnes countered, then looked away as her brother furiously began scrubbing his cheeks. They were clean of drool, but she had no intention of telling him that. If he intended to be immature, then she could very easily stoop to his level.

She hadn't been like him at his age. Granted, she'd easily surpassed her studies by the time she was five-and-ten and had begun helping her father with the business. Agnes had a passion for such things while Paul…Paul simply liked to do anything that did not require too much energy. Their father found it endlessly frustrating and their mother hopelessly adored it.

"I hope I need not remind you of how you should conduct yourself while we are being hosted by the duke," Solomon lectured with a stern look directed mostly at Paul. "One mistake and we may very well ruin a good relationship with an influential figure."

"I thought you two were acquainted," Agnes pointed out, raising her brow.

"Not enough that we cannot easily get unacquainted."

"You're making this vacation sound dreadfully dull, Father," Paul sighed.

Solomon scowled and was about to say something when Mary laid a hand on his arm.

"Try not to forget that His Grace invited us to vacation with him, dear. Yes, it would be nice if we grew close during this time, but we should try to enjoy ourselves at the same time."

Agnes saw the fight go out of her father in an instant. "You're right, dear," he said. And that was that.

The door opened a moment later and one of the duke's footmen reached out a hand to help her out. Agnes allowed herself to be guided out of the carriage. She didn't pay much mind to her parents and brother exiting the carriage, nor to the second carriage pulling up in the rear bearing their luggage. She wandered instead to the row of shrubbery lining the side of the driveway. Slowly, she traveled along the side of it, letting her eyes trail from the shrubs to the trees to the trellis crawling up the side of the house. She tried to decipher what the genus of the plants were, despite her limited vision.

"Agnes?" came her mother's voice.

Agnes turned to face her and her ankle instantly twisted. She let out a yelp, throwing her hands out to break her fall.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around her a second later. The scent of the person holding her assaulted her first. Musky and manly, the cologne clearly an expensive one. The muscles bunching against her minor ones was the second thing she noticed and she flushed at how safe she felt within the arms of this stranger.

At last—though it was only a second—she looked up at him, words of gratitude on the tip of her tongue.

They died the moment she locked eyes with the most handsome gentleman she had ever seen.

No words came to her mind, nothing capable of doing him justice. Black hair cropped to his face, a pair of soft lips set in a hard line, a strong jaw. His eyes were the brightest shade of blue she'd ever seen and she couldn't help but wonder how they would look in the daylight.

"Thank you," Agnes managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

He straightened her and then stepped away. The absence of his arms sent a chill across her body. "Are you all right?"

Wordlessly, she nodded. She couldn't believe it. She was never without words.

"Good."

And then he turned and walked away without another word.

Agnes blinked in bemusement. Good? Was that all there was left to say? She stared after him in utter disbelief as he made his way over to her parents. Stiffly, she followed behind just in time to hear him say, "Good evening, my lord. Welcome to Claymore Castle."

Only then did it hit her. Agnes berated herself for not putting it together sooner, but she blamed it on his incomparable handsomeness. He was the Duke of Claymore.