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for a while. Apparently, getting letters posted is difficult, but at last word he seemed quite healthy.”

      “I am glad to hear it. With your brother Reese, one never quite knows what to expect.”

      Royal turned to Lily. “Reese is a major in the cavalry—a true adventurer. Still, we are all hopeful he will eventually leave the military and return to a more settled life here at home.”

      They continued the meal in pleasant conversation and Lily was surprised at how comfortable she was made to feel.

      Until Lady Tavistock turned the conversation to Jocelyn.

      “So when do you expect the Caulfields to arrive?” the dowager asked.

      “Soon, I should think. At least soon after the weather clears a bit and the roads become passable.”

      “Do tell us a little about your cousin. What sort of woman is she? What are her interests?”

      “Jocelyn is beautiful,” Lily said without pausing to think. “Outrageously so.” It was the first thing anyone noticed about Jo. “She has very dark hair and the most amazing eyes. They’re the color of violets, you see. I don’t believe I have ever seen anyone with eyes that exact color.”

      “Go on,” the countess urged, obviously intrigued.

      Lily faltered a moment, trying to describe a woman who was completely indescribable. “Jocelyn loves parties. She is extremely outgoing. She enjoys dressing in the height of fashion and she looks marvelous in whatever she chooses to wear.” She glanced up. “Oh, and she’s a very proficient rider. Her father made certain of that.”

      “Well, that is good news,” the dowager said with a smile, “since Royal has a great love of horses.”

      But Jo didn’t particularly like animals, just the thrill of speed and the feeling of mastery over a beast much larger than she.

      The dowager looked over at her nephew. “I daresay, if Miss Caulfield enjoys parties, then perhaps we should have one here at Bransford. A small soiree, perhaps? A bit of music and dancing, just a few of our neighbors and some of our friends. What do you say, Royal?”

      He took a sip of his wine, set the crystal goblet back down on the table. The house was no longer the showcase it once was, but Lily thought it could be made quite presentable.

      “If you and Miss Moran are up to the challenge, I think it would be fine.”

      “Well, what do you think, Miss Moran?”

      “I would be more than pleased to help.”

      “Marvelous. We’ll begin making plans on the morrow.” The old woman delicately sipped her wine, the goblet shaking in her frail hand. “Anything more you can tell us about your cousin?”

      Lily dredged up a smile. “To be honest, Jocelyn is not easy to describe. She is a very unique person. You will understand once you meet her.”

      Lily couldn’t help wondering how that meeting would go. She wasn’t concerned with the duke, who wouldn’t be able to see past Jo’s alluring exterior. It was Lady Tavistock she wondered about. The old woman seemed extremely intelligent and keenly perceptive. Lily tried to imagine what the dowager would think about the woman meant to wed a nephew who seemed to hold a very special place in her heart.

      A warm sun brightened the landscape, melting the last of the snow. Eager for a ride, Royal strode down a corridor near the back of the house on his way to the

      stables, passing several little-used drawing rooms along the way.

      Rounding a corner, in a portion of the hall whose rooms faced the garden, he noticed the door of the Daffodil Room, one of the smaller drawing rooms, stood open.

      He paused in the doorway, saw that a low fire burned in the hearth. His eyes widened as he recognized the woman perched on the yellow damask sofa. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, turning her hair a silvery gold.

      Royal’s gaze took in her surroundings. Swatches of fabric in a variety of colors and textures were strewn over the backs of the chairs. The table next to one of them was littered with yarn, streamers of ribbon, bows, feathers and imitation fruit.

      Though he made no sound, Lily’s head came up as if she sensed his presence. Her gaze snared his and he felt the familiar stirring of heat. This time it settled low in his groin and his sex stirred to life. The air seemed to thicken and warm between them until his shaft rode hard against his belly. Royal was glad he was wearing his riding coat to hide his unwanted desire.

      A door closed down the hall, breaking the moment, and Lily jolted to her feet. “Your Grace … I—I hope you don’t mind … Mrs. McBride said it would be all right if I used this room for my sewing. She said it was rare anyone ever came in here.”

      “It isn’t a problem. You are welcome to use the room for as long as you wish.” He glanced at the array of items that seemed in no way connected to any given purpose. “But if I may ask—what exactly is it you are sewing?”

      She held up the item in her lap. “Hats, Your Grace. I fashion ladies’ bonnets.” She retrieved a finished product off the table in front of her, a bonnet of mauve silk with a wide brim surrounded by dyed feathers and velvet bows. The hat should have looked gaudy, but it did not.

      “I think you must be very good at making hats, Miss Moran.”

      She smiled and it felt as if something pulled loose inside him.

      “I believe I am, Your Grace. Not to be immodest, but I sell a very good number. Usually I have trouble finding time to fill all my orders.”

      “Good for you.”

      “I suppose making hats isn’t exactly the thing, but I hope one day to open my own millinery shop.”

      “I think if you want your own shop, you will have it. I believe you could have whatever it is you want, Miss Lily Moran.”

      She stared at him and something flickered in her sea-green eyes, then it was gone.

      “I hope you are right. I can hardly live with the Caulfields forever. Once you and Jocelyn are married, I shall wish to go out on my own.”

      He didn’t offer a place for her there. If he did, sooner or later, he would give in to the powerful temptation she posed. Lily deserved more than a brief seduction and so did the woman he intended to wed.

      “Most women think to marry,” he said softly. “They want a husband and children.”

      “I want that, too … someday.” She grinned, giving him a saucy look that made him want to kiss her. “But not until I have my shop!”

      Royal laughed and so did she. He cleared his throat. “I suppose I should leave so that you can get back to your work.”

      She looked down at the bonnet in her hand. “I suppose you should.”

      “Have a good afternoon, Miss Moran.”

      “You, as well, Your Grace.” Her eyes held his a moment longer, then she jerked her gaze away and sat back down on the sofa. Royal watched the delicate hands, the slender, feminine fingers working the needle through the fabric, and clamped down on an image of those elegant hands skimming over his naked body.

      Turning away, he strode to the door of the drawing room without looking back. Silently he prayed God would see that the woman he meant to marry arrived at the castle very soon.

       Six

      Amid great fanfare and household commotion, the duke’s future bride arrived. A boy from the village rushed in with the news, giving the duke and his meager staff time for last-minute preparations, his aunt to make her way to a seat in the Grand Drawing Room—and Lily time to compose herself.

      She was grateful for that. She knew what would happen when Jocelyn arrived. His Grace would be stunned by the beauty of

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