acquainted with all his tenants. To Rufus’s frustration, during none of their conversations did Turner make mention of a young lady named Anna.
And then the young parson had called to see Rufus early yesterday evening, and introduced himself as Mark Bishop. Mark was the son of Andrew Bishop, the previous parson of the parish, and Rufus had learned through conversation with the younger man that he resided at the parsonage with his unmarried sister, Anna. A fact Matthew Turner, not being a churchgoer, had not seen fit to mention!
Rufus’s first instinct had been to return immediately to the parsonage with Bishop and see the man’s sister for himself. His second, more cautious response, had been to wonder whether it was possible that his Anna and the daughter and sister of two parsons could really be one and the same person. Rufus had questioned himself as to whether the spinster relation of two parsons would have behaved as she had in the woods that day.
But here Anna Juliet truly was, working in the parsonage garden, her blue gown slightly soiled from her endeavours, her hair softly ruffled by the lightly blowing breeze.
She looked utterly beautiful to him.
Utterly desirable.
Nor, he was pleased to have learned in the past few minutes, did her sharpness of tongue seem to have lessened in the least since learning his identity as the Duke of Northamptonshire.
“I did not wish to become a duke, Anna,” he repeated ruefully. “I liked my life exactly as it was, free of the responsibility of others, of all restraint. Until five weeks ago I could go where I wanted, be who I wanted, with whom I wanted.”
“And can you no longer do those things?”
He sighed. “Now I have numerous estates needing my attention, servants and tenants I am responsible for, along with all the other expectations of bearing the family title.”
Anna had never thought of a duke as being someone who had restraints placed upon him.
Restraints that seemed so strangely similar to her own, when all her close family relations were connected to the church.
All her life she had been Anna Bishop, the respectable daughter and then sister of a parson, her actions and words always guarded so that she did not bring embarrassment or shame upon her father or her brother.
But inside, shamefully, Anna had always longed for the sort of excitement she had known in this man’s arms three days ago.
“What are your own hopes and dreams, Anna?”
She looked at Rufus guardedly as he seemed to see, to recognise, her secret, wistful longings.
Her chin rose. “I have been the daughter of a parson all my life, sir, and now I am the sister of a parson, and since my mother died eight years ago, and I lost my father two years ago, I have been helpmate to my brother. I do not have any hopes, dreams or ambitions beyond that.”
Rufus did not believe her. He had seen the wistfulness of her expression just minutes ago; her cheeks flushed, the softness of her softly parted lips, as if she yearned for something just beyond her sight. Just beyond her reach.
“What if you should marry?” he probed softly.
She gave a humourless smile. “It is unlikely that I shall ever do so.”
Rufus’s relief at the realisation there was no particular young man in her life at present was instantly followed by surprise at why it should matter to him one way or the other.
His curiosity won out. “Why not?”
She shrugged slender shoulders. “I know all of the gentlemen in the area, and have no wish to marry any of them. Nor will I ever leave Banbury.”
This time Rufus had no doubts as to the longing, the ache, he could hear in Anna’s voice. “What if a gentleman were to take you away from here?”
She gave him a brief startled glance, whatever she saw in his face causing her to look quickly away again. “I told you,” her jaw was tight, “I am helpmate to my brother.”
“And what if your brother should marry and have children of his own?”
Anna gave a rueful smile, having no doubts that her brother would marry as he had recently taken quite an interest in Mary Turner, the pretty young daughter of the new estate manager at Banbury Hall. That Mark also hoped to entice Matthew Turner into his fold was no doubt an added incentive to that attraction. “Then no doubts I shall happily become the devoted sister-in-law to his wife and spinster aunt to his children.”
“And with each month and year that passes will you also become increasingly bitter as your own life passes you by?”
“How dare you?” Anna demanded indignantly, even as she knew this man, this duke, spoke the truth.
That he somehow knew her.
Rufus Drake knew of the yearnings she had in her heart; for excitement, freedom, to travel and to see the world outside Banbury. Of how she longed to be wholly loved and cherished by the man she would wholly love and cherish in return.
Yearnings that she would never voice, never acknowledge, but would keep hidden inside her like a bitter, festering wound.
“I dare, Anna, because I see that same restless spirit in you that I know is inside me.” He reached out to take a firm grasp of her chin as he tilted her face up towards his, so that Anna had no choice but to gaze up at him. “Admit it, Anna, you wanted me that day in the woods,” he encouraged gruffly. “You wanted me to kiss you, to make love to you.”
“No!” She gave a desperate shake of her head in denial of his words. Sweet, truthful, sinful words that caused her heart to clench painfully in her chest.
“You want me to kiss you now...”
“No!” She gave another frantic shake of her head.
“Yes, Anna.” Rufus raised her hand to stroke his lips across her knuckles, instantly aware of that same smell of mint he had tasted when he kissed her in the woods. “I love the way you smell,” he groaned as he rubbed her hand against his cheek.
A cheek that was hot with embarrassment.
Or desire?
“It is only mint from my herb garden,” she excused as she snatched her hand away from his and put it behind her back. “You must not do that. Anyone could walk by.”
“We have introduced ourselves now, you could invite me into the parsonage,” he suggested huskily.
“No, I— Our housekeeper will very soon be back from shopping in the village.”
“And is that your only reason for refusing me?”
“You must go! I cannot— We cannot!”
Rufus looked down at her as he heard the distress in her voice, and noted the look of panic in her expressive eyes as she looked up at him pleadingly. He gave a sigh before stepping back. “I am not going anywhere, Anna. And we will meet again.” It was a promise rather than a threat.
Anna’s
