Page 44 of The Scarred Lyon

“Now we are alone, tell me of your perilous journey,” Laura said as Augusta passed her a cup and saucer.

“Where to begin?” Duncan sighed. “We left the Jemison Inn a little after the noon clock.”

As Duncan told the tale, Augusta couldn’t believe they had come through such a perilous episode relatively unscathed. But the time they spent huddled together in the ramshackle cabin had forged a strong bond between them. Unbreakable. Unshakeable. Created in mutual respect, friendship, and now a growing love. A solid foundation on which to build a new, contented life.

It was more than Augusta could have ever hoped for.

Chapter Twenty

It was mid-afternoon when they returned from the Allenby chapel and Briggs’s funeral. The servants were gathered downstairs to pay their respects to Briggs, and then they would get back to their work. Laura had taken Augusta to the kitchen yesterday afternoon for further introductions, and Augusta had given Mrs. Dorsett, the head cook, the dinner menu.

Last night’s hot bath was heavenly, and a good night’s sleep in Duncan’s warm embrace followed. She was definitely over her courses and was looking forward to later tonight. The afternoon had been taken up with Laura giving her a guided tour of the manor and selecting furniture from storage for Reese’s room, the nursery, and schoolroom, as well as for Prisilla, who would be across the hall from Reese. In some aristocratic families, children were housed in a different wing, but Augusta wanted her son nearby.

Augusta did not see Duncan for the rest of the afternoon, as he was in meetings with Mr. McGloin. When he arrived at their bedroom, he looked tired, but content.

“I told Patrick you would assist me in dressing for dinner. We have to hire another valet as soon as possible.”

“Is there anyone on staff we could promote? One of the footmen, perhaps?” Augusta asked as she helped him remove his coat.

“Possibly. Patrick mentioned Frederick. He has worked here for nearly ten years.”

Augusta unbuttoned his waistcoat. “I was thinking of turning the adjoining room into a sitting room for us. It is obvious we will not be sleeping apart.”

“I like the way you think. I agree. We can purchase a full-sized chaise longue for extra sleeping space, naps, and the like. Perhaps we can move books in there.”

“Brilliant.”

Duncan grimaced as she tried to pull his shirt over his head. “You are still in discomfort. Do you have a physician?”

“Yes.”

“We should have him come tomorrow.” She gently ran the tips of her fingers along his torso. “You are badly bruised, and your shoulder is still swollen.”

“As you say, Your Grace.”

Augusta chuckled as she helped him dress.

“Hopefully, it will be easier to undress me later tonight,” Duncan added huskily.

“I am sure it will. I can always rip your shirt.”

Duncan moaned. “No more. Or I will not be able to appear for dinner in this state.”

Augusta smiled. “We can stay in this room, send for trays later.”

“Minx.”

“Alas, Mr. McGloin and Laura expect us. Another time.”

“I will hold you to that,” Duncan replied huskily.

Once dressed, Duncan headed for the door.

“Wait! I believe a valet uses this brush.” Augusta swept his coat across his shoulders and down the front. “There. You look every inch a duke.”

“Then, Duchess, let us go to dinner.”

Augusta took his free arm, and they descended the stairs.