Ophelia sighed. She understood and she agreed. When their mother had passed, she’d taken up the role of mother figure with her young sisters and she didn’t regret it a bit. But lately, she’d begun to wonder about her own future. Would there ever be time for her to find her own husband and have her own family? And what about the adventure of a season? The opportunity to live her own fairy tale before she settled into a future?
She had to confess, she loved children. Even when they cried or acted naughty. Caring for her sisters had been a blessing and she’d gladly do it again.
Her sisters stepped back, allowing her to make her way down the steps first. Gently, she lifted the front of her skirt, giving His Grace her best smile. He smiled back, and she nearly gasped with awe. He had the sort of flashing green eyes that made her heart race in her chest. His nose had a bit of a crook, but that only made him more masculine, while his mouth was full and completely…well…kissable. His shoulders were just as broad as she’d imagined and his skin-tight breeches left little question to the narrowness of his hips and muscles of his legs. His boots were polished to a high shine and she admired them for a moment before she realized she’d just given him a head to toe perusal.
Her gaze snapped back up to his eyes and he quirked one eyebrow as his smile broadened into a knowing grin. Heat flamed in her cheeks.
“Your Grace, this is my eldest daughter, Miss Ophelia Moorish.”
She dipped into a deep curtsy, her cheeks still radiating heat as she murmured, “Your Grace.”
Her father went down the line by age. “My second eldest, Juliet. Then we have Cordelia, Bianca, and lastly, Adrianna.” Each woman curtseyed in turn but Ophelia noted that the duke’s gaze returned to her the moment the introductions finished. Heat spread through her body at his sparkling emerald eyes.
“It’s a pleasure, ladies.” He subtly skimmed his gaze down her frame and Ophelia stared at the wall attempting not to blush again. She had a trim waist but she was fuller in her hips and bosom than most of her sisters. Then he looked to her father. “You sir have been blessed with a beautiful brood of daughters.”
Her father chuckled. “I was handsome enough in my day and my wife, God rest her soul, was a beauty to be certain.”
The duke’s mouth tightened. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Her father waved his hand and the dull ache that always weighed Ophelia down at the mention of her mother, filled her limbs. She knew her father still hurt as well but he gave a small smile.
“Thank you kindly. Loss is never easy but today we have a reason to celebrate. Rarely do we have such a distinguished guest.” Then he turned to his daughters. “What shall we do to turn this storm into a night of merriment?”
Ophelia, stepped forward, giving another small curtsy. “Perhaps we should ask His Grace.”
As she came back up, their eyes met again and her breath stuttered in her throat.
“Dinner would be lovely,” he answered, his deep baritone sending a thrill down her spine and making her stomach flutter.
“We could play music for you,” Cordelia quietly volunteered. Though shy, she spoke best with an instrument and her pianoforte skills were beyond compare.
The duke gave a nod as Juliet clapped her hands. “And we could dance.”
Bianca nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, that would be fun.” Then she turned to the butler. “Would you tell the kitchen we have a guest? And have the music room ready.”
But Ophelia turned to the duke. “Does that suit you, Your Grace?”
The intensity of his green eyes made her cheeks heat again. She truly felt like a princess being discovered by her prince the way he stared at her. Her favorite tale was Cinderseat and she imagined that this was just how Ella felt.
“It sounds lovely,” he said. “I am very much looking forward to this evening.”
So was she. Excitement sizzled along her skin when she thought about dancing with this magnificent man. Tonight felt like the party she’d wanted to attend for so long but hadn’t had the opportunity. Finally, she had a chance to meet her prince.
Chapter Two
Devilish ideas were swirling about his head as Chase assessed the eldest daughter of the Moorish clan. She had luxurious dark hair and sparkling brown eyes, which were set in a lovely porcelain and pink skin. High cheekbones, a pert little nose, and that mouth... Damn, he could spend a week devouring just her lips. His quick and subtle perusal of the rest of her told him that he’d need a great deal longer than just a week. She had the sort of figure that drove a man wild. Tiny in the middle with all sorts of curves. They made a man want to do bad things.
But he’d met beautiful women before. Hell, they practically tossed themselves in front of him at every opportunity. There was something different about this one. She was a bit older, not a girl in her first season, but still, she held an air of innocence. Or perhaps it was just optimism or kindness. Like her father. The pair of them oozed the sort of gentility and grace that his class was supposed to personify but so often did not. And they made him feel as though he were being wrapped in a warm blanket after years in a cold harsh world.
Which was why he’d leave the woman alone despite his obvious lust. How could he be the man to tarnish such a pure spirit? Then again, her lips called a siren song that left him weak and unable to think logically.
He squinted his eyes. Somehow referencing Odysseus made him think of other famous authors and the women’s names made him pause. “Ophelia, Cordelia, Juliet?” He softly repeated. “Are they all…”
Mr. Moorish chuckled. “Guilty. I named them from various Shakespeare works. I’m an avid reader and a bit of a romantic.”
A few of the ladies giggled while one of them rolled her eyes. He sincerely couldn’t remember which sister she was. They were all lovely, to be certain, but Ophelia had captured his attention. He gazed at her again, hardly able to look at anyone else when one of the sisters spoke.
“Ophelia is exactly like him,” her sister said. “Always has her nose in a book.”
The words gave him the perfect excuse to drink in Ophelia’s visage again. He wasn’t at all surprised to know that she had more in common with her father. For a brief second, he wondered what it might be like to be around someone like Ophelia all the time. Would it grow tiring? Or would his worn view of the world shift?
He swiped those thoughts away. He’d stay here for tonight and tomorrow, when the storm had passed, he’d leave again and return to his life. Or the party. He still wasn’t certain and he honestly didn’t want to think about it right now.
“Just out of curiosity, how far is the village from here?” He wondered how close he was to passing this little slice of paradise.
“Seabridge Gate is just a few miles. We walk there in the nice weather.” Mr. Moorish gestured to a room on their right. “Shall we sit and have a few refreshments?”
Chase stepped into the room. “Thank you. Is it a large village?”
“No,” Ophelia answered, her honey voice washing over him. “Quite small. Not many take this coastal route so it’s more the people who make it home.”
He nodded as they all sat. “Is there an inn? We almost travelled there instead of stopping here.” Not that it mattered now. His staff were surely huddled about the kitchen stove already.