The Bachelor Earl - Darcy Burke Page 0,48

Hastings, Duke of Romsey leapt from the bed with excitement. And then promptly dove back under the covers where it was far warmer next to his new wife.

“Too cold?” Diana asked, smiling as he burrowed against her.

“Hell yes, what was I thinking?”

“That it’s Christmas Eve morning?” she offered helpfully.

He kissed her soundly and pulled her against him. “Our first one together. We have much to do. Did I mention I told Mr. Margrave that I’d help him bring in the greenery to decorate?”

“No, you did not.” She wriggled her body, shifting his arms so that they were face to face. “I thought we were going to take a walk to look at the spires and then watch the mummers?”

“All that too.”

She arched a single dark brow at him. “Do you ever rest?”

“Occasionally when I’m in bed. But only occasionally. And not when I have a beautiful woman in my arms.” He ducked his head and licked her neck then suckled her flesh.

“Simon! Last time you did that, you left a mark. Since that was just yesterday, it’s still there.”

Yes, he had done that. And it had been delightful. He kissed down her collarbone. “I do think I may be late to meet Mr. Margrave.”

“Pity,” she said, not sounding the least bit sorry.

He wasn’t late, however, because he wasn’t helping Mr. Margrave. After leaving Diana in their room, Simon stole from the inn and made his way down the lane. He’d found a goldsmith the day after they’d arrived and had commissioned him to fashion a wedding ring for Diana. The hammered iron band he’d bought her at Gretna Green was pretty, but temporary. His duchess should have gold and jewels. In fact, her ring would be a sapphire.

Simon entered the small establishment with a spring in his step.

The proprietor, a young man of small stature with large, round spectacles, looked up and immediately blanched. “Good morning, Your Grace.”

“Good morning,” Simon said a bit warily. “I trust you have my wife’s ring ready?”

Still pale, the proprietor, Mr. Abernathy, now winced. Then he burst into tears. Simon couldn’t help but feel sorry for the man.

Abernathy wiped his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry, Your Grace. I’m afraid I’ve lost it.”

“Lost it?” Simon repeated.

“I stayed the night with my sister and her family last night—my brother-in-law has been ill. I was still working on the ring, so I took it with me to finish.” Abernathy wrung his hands together, sniffing. “Somewhere on the way to the shop this morning, it fell through a hole in my pocket. I retraced my steps a dozen times, but I wasn’t able to find it.”

Disappointment spun through Simon’s gut. “It isn’t your fault.”

“Oh, but it is, sir. Now you don’t have a gift for your duchess.” He started to cry again then abruptly turned and disappeared into the back of the shop behind a curtain. When he emerged, he held out a small pouch. “Here is your deposit.”

Simon accepted the money with a slight nod, his mind working as to what he could give Diana instead. He’d been so looking forward to slipping that ring on her finger tonight.

“I added a little extra,” Abernathy said. “For your trouble. And for my mistake.”

Simon eyed the man and could see that his coat was rather worn. He believed there could be a hole—or two—in the garment. “You needn’t give me extra. It was an accident. I am sorry you are out the commission.”

The man nodded but said nothing. He looked as if he might be holding his breath. Or trying not to cry.

Bloody hell.

Simon thrust the pouch back at him. “Take it.”

Abernathy’s dark eyes widened behind the glass of his spectacles. “I can’t—”

“Of course you can. Happy Christmas.” He offered the man a smile and left the shop.

As he made his way back to the inn, he wondered what he was going to give Diana now.

Diana accompanied the innkeeper’s wife, Mrs. Margrave, and her two daughters as they distributed breads and cakes they’d baked to some of the people in their neighborhood. To a person, they were in need, whether due to age or illness or something else. Diana was glad to help and only wished she’d had something to give.

Their next to last visit was a family of five—the Browns. The father had been ill, but finally seemed to be on the mend. The wife was delighted to have two loaves of fresh bread, and the two smaller children were thrilled to have Shrewsbury cakes.

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