The quiet afternoon at Hamilton House was suddenly broken by the sharp, rhythmic sound of horses' hooves striking the gravel driveway. The heavy crunch of carriage wheels followed, echoing through the peaceful gardens.
Inside the drawing room, Ines stopped mid-sentence. She had been explaining the finer points of London society gossip to Aunt Margery, but the moment she heard the carriage, all thoughts of gossip completely vanished from her mind.
She stood up so quickly that the small sewing basket on her lap tumbled to the floor. Spools of colored thread rolled across the rug, but Ines did not even look down.
Her dark eyes were fixed firmly on the double doors of the drawing room. A bright, genuine smile broke across her face, transforming her from a sharp, calculating Duchess into a woman who was simply, deeply in love.
"He is here," Ines whispered.
The heavy doors opened. Mr. Simmons, the butler, stepped inside and bowed.
