A short while later, Kitty left the duke nursing a whiskey and reading a book, a small smile seeming to be permanently affixed to his lips. She grinned, knowing she had put it there.
She settled into a chaise longue beneath one of the wide windows in the parlor, peering out into the rainy landscape.
“Ahem,” a voice said, dragging her from her whimsical musings.
She glanced at the butler, startled to see him with a bouquet of flowers in his hands.
“These are for you, milady. And is there anything special you would like for supper?” he asked, his voice hoarse with emotion.
Behind him, the housekeeper lingered, beaming at Kitty. She flushed, recalling the compromising position the woman had seen them in earlier. Surely, they would think her a doxy. Yet all the servants seemed to stare at her with a bewildering degree of pride and hopeful excitement.
A couple of the servants were hastily dabbing at their eyes and noses with handkerchiefs. It occurred to her that her presence meant something profound to them. A blanket of hope had settled over the castle, infusing the servants with fresh smiles and far more solicitous natures than she’d ever witnessed. Kitty had even heard a maid singing while she dusted.
Do not be so silly in your hopes, she warned the servants silently, accepting the flowers.
Though if she admitted it, the warning was more for herself.
Kitty tethered on the edge of a most dangerous precipice—falling in love with a man who had no lasting interest in her.
Chapter Sixteen
Alexander held the binoculars firmly in front of his eyes, all thoughts of examining the estate ledgers his steward had sent him from his manor in Kent forgotten. A rueful chuckle escaped him.
Ladies did not climb trees. Though clearly she was a different sort, he still did not expect such an unconventionally audacious nature. Nothing Miss Danvers did would ever surprise him again. With her, he would learn to anticipate the unexpected. He studied her as if she were an exotic creature that had fallen from the sky and landed in a perch high in the gnarled branches of an elm tree near his favorite grotto, the hem of her blue day gown whipping in the wind. She was without her half boots, and her stocking-clad feet dug into the branch with firm purchase.
Evidently, she was an experienced tree climber.
Several feet from the ground, Miss Danvers balanced perfectly on the branch, her forearm resting on another that was in line with her chest. He watched her for several moments, and from the movement of her lips and the delight on her face, he surmised the woman was singing.
Perhaps the reason she traveled so far from the main house was to spare the household.
At the bottom of the tree, a basket leaned against the trunk; a blanket was spread on the soft, verdant grass; and a book rested atop the blanket.
Swinging the binoculars back to her, he noted with some surprise how alone she appeared, gazing out at the distant horizon. He watched her face for several minutes, observing every tiny shift in her expression. One of delicate yearning settled on her face, and his heart jolted painfully when his name shaped her lips.
Alexander…
The curious detachment he’d built around his heart shuddered as if it had been dealt a terrible blow. She sighed his name, longing swept across her lovely features, and she pressed a hand between the cradle of her breast. Heat tugged at his groin, and his heart clenched.
An array of shocking, yet undeniably wickedly carnal images of making love with Katherine danced through his head, causing it to ache. Alexander desperately wanted to kiss her, over and over until she cried her pleasure into his mouth. With such dangerous needs storming through his heart, the last thing he should want was to be with her. Cursing savagely, he rang the bell and summoned his manservant.
Several minutes after Hoyt appeared, they rumbled over the vast lawns of his estate toward Miss Danvers.
“I took the liberty of collecting a book of poetry from the library, Your Grace, when you made it known you would join Miss Danvers,” Hoyt murmured expectantly.
Alexander grunted but made no reply. A mistake, for his manservant took that as an invitation to continue his impropriety.
“Cook also sent a bottle of wine and a French cake soaked in rum. Miss Danvers has expressed a delight for the treat, and Cook has been preparing them for her.”
Wine and cake. Good God. Still, his curiosity stirred. “Miss Danvers likes cakes?”
“Oh yes, Your Grace. She came down to the kitchen and chatted with the cook about her secret recipes yesterday. The cook…well, everyone is quite delighted. It is our hope Miss Danvers’s stay will be a permanent one.”
Hoyt audibly held his breath, no doubt waiting for Alexander’s confirmation of the young, unwedded miss’s status in his life.
Alexander made no answer, and his manservant huffed an irritated breath. The wheels crunched noisily over the grass and fallen leaves as they made their way closer to Katherine. When they were only a few feet from her, Alexander said, “Leave me here. I’ll continue with my stick.”
“As you wish, Your Grace.”