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only fromthe delight of Ian’s humor but from the enjoyment of being outsideonce more. After two days spent in bed being cossetted andpampered, it was a true joy to feel the sunshine warm her flesh andto absorb the sights, sounds, and smells of another glorious summerday.

Her bay mare, Colleen, seemed to feel thesame way, prancing and shaking her mane. She had been eager as Heroto run and Hero had given Colleen her head, galloping across theopen lawns and only slowing to first a trot and then a walk as theyneared the tree line where the parkland morphed into the woodlandsand deeper forest beyond.

Ian had been by her side the whole time, hislaughter melding with hers as they raced along, the sound trailinglike a ribbon in the wind behind them. But for his daily visits ather bedside, Hero hadn’t seen much of Ian in the last pair of days,and never alone. Mandy had taken it upon herself to play chaperone,never leaving them alone.

The brief visits had been filled with nothingdeeper than inane chatter about the weather and her health whenHero had wanted nothing more than to return to the conversationthey had abandoned in the dungeons. Ian had said that he lovedher…

Had he meant it or had it merely been aresult of their situation?

Perhaps now that she had Ian all to herself,she might find a way to bring it up.

“Daughter! Ian!” Beaumont called once more,and Hero amended that thought. She would have to share him with herfather, but that didn’t bother her at all. It was too beautiful aday to waste, and the company of the pair was ever lively.

“What is it, Papa?”

“Come, see!”

In that moment, Hero felt as exuberant as herfather often acted these days. There was so much worth living for.Approaching him through the trees, Hero pulled her mount to a haltand swung her leg over the pommel, preparing to dismount. Just likethat, Ian was there. His hands clasped around her tiny waist as helifted her from the sidesaddle with a devilish smile. “You are notthinking of denying me even a moment to hold you, are you?”

Smiling, Hero put her hands on his shouldersand let him lower her to the ground. He let her body slide slowlydown the length of his before leaning in to whisper, “I’ve missedyou.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” she admitted, herheart racing giddily as he brushed his lips across hers.

“I cannot imagine how we escaped the castlewith only your father,” Ian said. “She’s been a barnacle stuck tomy side for the past two days.”

Hero bit back a mischievous grin. Atbreakfast while her father filled the room with cheerful stories ofhow Ian had kept him in good company during her recovery, Daphnehad smiled with sugary kindness, asking after her welfare. ThoughHero had inwardly wagered that her rival had been glad for herabsence and was none too happy with her reappearance, she had—justas sweetly—declared herself fully recovered and brimming withenergy … and invited them all on a ride through the park.

“Daphne hates to ride, you know,” Hero nowtold Ian. “Hates horses with a passion, in fact. If she couldtravel by train everywhere she went, I’m sure she would happily doso.”

“And Kennedy?” Ian asked. “Surely, he enjoysa ride?”

Yes, but a good book more. I made sure my newcopy of Westward Ho! was delivered to him this morning,” shesaid. “I would imagine he is in a chair on the balcony, lost inKingsley.”

Ian chuckled warmly, tweaking her chin.“Harry was right. You are a clever lass.”

Inclining her head with a blush, Heroaccepted his compliment.

“Daughter! You must come and look at thistree!” the duke called again enthusiastically. “Have you ever seenanything like it?”

Ian drew back with playful regret and offeredher his arm after gathering Colleen’s reins and those of hisgelding, Gideon, and looping the reins over a low branch. Hero tookhis arm, though she felt a more youthful urge to skip merrilyinstead of walking sedately across the few yards that separatedthem from the tree the duke was studying. It was a tangled oldthing, the trunk several feet in diameter, twisting this way andthat, with branches that did the same. She had always wonderedabout it but by the time she reached the castle once more, shealways forgot to ask Jennings about it.

“It’s a cedar of Lebanon,” Ian said, asBeaumont began an assault on the lowest branches that drew a gaspfrom Hero.

Thankfully, with his thick build, the dukewas unable to lift a leg as far as the lowest branch, and Hero casta sigh of relief before raising a brow to Ian. “Is that what it’scalled? I’ve always wondered. It must be very old.”

“Over a hundred years easily,” Ian answeredas he retrieved the duke’s wandering horse and secured it as well.Then he reached for the duke, who was now swinging from the branch.“Come now, Harry. Down from there.”

“Brilliant, isn’t it?” Beaumont said to Hero.“I must remember to tell your mother about it when we gethome.”

“Papa, Mama died several years back, don’tyou recall?” Hero said, feeling the tug of sadness that alwaysaccompanied such reminders. The feeling was at odds with the joy ofthe day.

Beaumont’s expression clouded for a moment.“Died? Of course, of course. I remember.”

Ian cut in jovially, “I see an odd littlebuilding through the trees over there, Harry. What say you? Shouldwe see what it is?”

“It’s the pagoda I told you about,” Hero toldhim as they turned in that direction.

Ian slipped his hand down to take hers, andthey walked along and studied the building on their approach. Itwas a wooden structure of three consecutively smaller tiers in thetraditional Chinese style. The eaves on each arcing roofline curledupward at the ends of each point of the hexagonal roofs. There wasa stone terrace around it that cantilevered out over the wide creekHero had mentioned. Shaded by the surrounding trees and low-hangingwillows, it was a marvelous location for a romantic midnightrendezvous.

“Our pagoda?” Ian murmured suggestively asthey crossed a low bridge that carried them to the other side ofthe creek, driving the momentary sadness away. They stepped ontothe terrace while Beaumont disappeared into the small structure.Dark eyes warmed Hero until she

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