A Duke in Time (The Widow Rules #1) - Janna MacGregor Page 0,25
held out a small posy of red, pink, and yellow roses to Willa. “These are for you. Thank you for helping Morgan.”
For the first time Kat could ever recall, a gentle blush colored her companion’s cheeks.
“Ack. It was nothing,” Willa murmured, taking the small bouquet in her hands.
“It was something to me. Morgan isn’t just my valet. I consider him a friend.”
“He said the same about you.” Willa brought the bouquet to her nose. “I thank you for these. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll finish making the tea tray,” she murmured, then left for the kitchen.
Kat waited until they were alone. “That’s lovely of you to think of her.” The roses’ sweet fragrance filled the air.
“I appreciate what she did for him.” Christian glanced about the entry. “You have a beautiful home.”
“Thank you.” Kat answered. To some, the turquoise walls and black and white floral upholstered pieces might appear garish. Yet it was nice of him to compliment her tastes. “I like color.”
“These are for you,” he said softly as he handed her a massive bouquet of red roses.
“They’re lovely.” Kat inhaled the sweet scent, then lifted her gaze to his. “They smell as beautiful as they look. Red is my favorite color.”
“It’s mine too.” He took a deep breath and rocked back on his heels, clearly a little unsettled.
“Perhaps you should share that with Morgan as he decorates your study.”
His gaze locked with hers, his eyes narrowing as if considering her statement. Eventually, he nodded. “Excellent idea.”
“Won’t you come in?” She extended her hand in the direction of a small hallway that would lead to the sitting room where Constance and Beth waited.
“Katherine, I’m a little…” He studied the two remaining bouquets in his hands and let a somber sigh escaped.
“Apprehensive?” she offered. “We all are.”
“Then, I’m not alone.” A rueful smile spread across his lips. “When I was at Rand House, I was looking forward to this visit, but all I could think about was what Meri has done to all of you.”
“Christian, it’s all right.” She lowered her voice. The dark depths of his eyes churned with emotion. “They don’t blame you. None of us do. But it’s a kind gesture you’re here. They were a part of your brother’s life.”
His gaze swept across the room again. “Because of him, three lives are teetering on the edge of ruination. I’ll try my best, but I hope they have additional thoughts on how I can help.” He swept his hand in front of them. “It’s time I meet these women. Lead the way, my lady.”
How could she have ever considered him too proper and staid beyond reason? The poor man stood there, clutching the other bouquets as if his life depended on it. She stilled for a moment. When she’d first met him, he didn’t want anything to do with the three of them. Yet, he was there ready to meet Constance and Beth because she’d asked him.
Well, perhaps badgered was a better word for it.
It didn’t make any difference. He was there to help.
She bent close and murmured, “They won’t snap at you.”
“If they do, I’ll growl back.” He smiled slightly with a nod.
Without hesitating, Katherine walked to the sitting room and stepped inside. “The duke is here.”
The ladies stood in the middle of the room. Beth raised her eyebrows. Constance blinked slowly, then nodded.
Katherine smiled at Christian as he stepped to her side. He would be perfectly fine with her friends.
When she turned to Christian to make the introductions, a genuine smile lit his face, and his deep brown eyes held a warmth she wanted to lose herself in. She sucked in a breath at the sight. He was a man with the natural ability to make any woman, no matter the age, swoon.
Beth dipped a curtsey.
“Your Grace, this is Miss Blythe Howell from Cumberland,” Katherine offered, then turned to Beth. “The Duke of Randford.”
“Your Grace.” Beth dipped a curtsy. “My friends call me Beth. I’d be honored if you would too.”
“Beth.” Christian nodded, then held out the bouquet of yellow roses. “For you.”
Beth’s eyes widened as she took the roses. “These are magnificent.”
“Thank you. I grew them myself.” He turned to Katherine, signaling he was ready to be presented to Constance.
“Your Grace, this is Miss Constance Lysander from Portsmouth,” Katherine said and turned to Constance, who looked woefully miserable standing before them. “The Duke of Randford.”
“Good morning, Miss Lysander. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Christian bowed slightly. “These are for you.” He handed the