Caught in the Storm of a Duke's - Abby Ayles Page 0,62

the estate and received the warm welcome, he could hardly believe that he had indeed left Dunham.

For three years he had refused to set foot out of those giant gates. Yet, for Lady Judith, he had done so without a second thought.

He knew he would receive a chiding from Thomas when he returned. His butler had tried to hide his astonishment, but Stephen knew him too well not to see through his façade.

He could hardly fault Thomas; he was still in shock himself.

While he had been alone in the chamber that had been prepared for him, he had pinched himself once or twice just to make certain that all of this was really happening.

He looked at Lady Judith, the woman who was responsible for turning his world on its head.

Did she know? Did she know just how much wonder she had brought to his life? How she made him act so completely out of character? How she so easily made him do things he had thought he would never be able to do ever again?

He did not think she did.

Certainly, she was not aware of how much she affected him. It was not possible that she understood just how tightly she had woven herself into his heart.

He was afraid that she only needed to say the words, and he would do anything she asked of him, without question.

He was an utter fool.

A fool who had fallen in love with a woman whom he could not have.

Yes, he was in love.

Hopelessly and helplessly so. There was no use denying it any longer. He was head over heels.

Strangely, accepting this truth did not come with the guilt he had thought it would.

He felt no sense of wrong or betrayal.

Abigail would always have a place in his heart. He would cherish her always. He had honored her in life and in death, and would honor her still, until he breathed his last.

Nevertheless, he had come to love another. It could not have been stopped or helped. The moment he saw her at his gate that cold morning, his fate had been sealed.

So, there he was, in her aunt’s home, knowing that despite his surprise at his own impulsive behavior, there was nowhere else he would rather be.

Certainly not back in Dunham without her.

Being able to see her face, feel her presence, look into those green eyes, gave him more than happiness; it gave him peace.

His heart no longer hurt. He had not suffered his fits in almost a fortnight. That was longer than he had ever gone without them.

It was all because of her and the light she carried.

She must have felt his gaze, for in that moment she turned to him and smiled.

He trembled as a shudder racked through him. Such was the effect she had on him.

Everything about her was beautiful, but that smile was his undoing. She soon went back to eating, and in no time, they were done with dinner.

As they rose, Lady Witherspoon chimed, “I know you all must be too tired for a walk. However, I find I am not ready to say goodnight so quickly. Shall we go to the drawing room? We can make up for lost time over a nightcap.” She winked as she finished speaking, and Stephen found himself smiling.

He liked the lady. He had instantly found her endearing.

There was a purity, a genuineness, and light to her spirit that made it so easy to quickly grow fond of her. Then there was that strength she so clearly possessed.

It was the kind Lady Judith also had.

He was happy that his fair lady had such a woman as the viscountess for an aunt.

Upon everyone’s agreement, they marched to the parlor. As they entered, Stephen was quick to notice the lovely pianoforte standing in a corner of the large room.

His eyes found Lady Judith, of their own accord, and when she met his gaze, he knew that they shared the same thoughts.

Deciding that they would discuss it later, he took his seat beside her.

In no time, they were all settled in.

“Imagine my awe when I read that you were here, in Sawbrook,” Aunt Tia started. She had chosen the long sofa and now had her legs stretched out over it.

“That wicked storm. All my life I do not think I have experienced such treacherous weather. There were days when I thought it would never stop pouring. The messengers who brought the letters had already risked their lives. I could not bring myself to instruct them