It all seemed so frightfully silly and scary to her. Touching the mind, body, and heart of a man who seemed to love her but was afraid to allow her into his life presented an impossible task. The easy solution would be to walk away, to take no more risks with her heart, for it was still so horribly bruised and now beat with an uncertain rhythm.
But it went against her nature to give up anything, and this…this was a forever kind of love.
And it is worth fighting for.
The carriage jolted once again ove
r the rocky, uneven ground, and she shifted the curtain and peeked outside. The castle on the horizon seemed an eternity away, but then in a few short minutes, they were rounding the long driveway. The sounds of the steps knocking down reached her, and she took an even breath, struggling for equanimity, before the carriage door opened. She allowed the coachman to assist her down, and as her booted feet touched the graveled driveway, she swayed under the enormity of what she had committed to.
“Are you well, milady?” the man asked with a concerned crease to his brow.
“I am quite well. You may take the horses to the stables for a rubdown and oats and apples. If you were to go to the kitchens, I am sure you’ll be given a meal,” she said to the coachman, her lady’s maid, and the other two tigers who had journeyed with them.
She breathed deeply of the clean, cool air and gathered her nerves, which shivered with such alarm, it was a wonder she was standing. Kitty had missed the castle, and she envisioned it would be quite easy to call here home when not in London. Her heart pounded, and she clasped her hands tightly together to prevent their trembling. She marched to the front door and lifted the large iron knocker a few times. In the other hand she held onto her small valise, with its scandalous garments, as if her life depended on it.
Kitty waited a few beats and knocked once more. If no one answered, she would make her way to the side entrance to the kitchens, where the servants should be up, stirring the fires and preparing breakfast for His Grace.
The door opened, and the butler stood, impeccably dressed and ready to serve his household for the day.
The man sucked in a surprised breath. “Miss Danvers! Please come inside.”
Kitty entered, handing over her shawl, hat, and gloves as she strolled with affected serenity into the castle. She glanced around, a surge of longing piercing her chest. The butler cleared his throat and she glanced up, astonished to see that his eyes were misty.
“How are you, Albert?” she asked warmly, some of her nerves dissipating.
“Quite well, Miss Danvers.”
She peered down the large hallway and then up the winding stairs leading to the west wing.
“His Grace is in the breakfast room.”
“I do not wish him to know I am here,” she said softly. “Please inform as few servants as possible of my presence.”
The butler blinked. “I see.”
She glanced about the hallway, then lowered her voice. “How is he, Albert?”
The butler’s countenance turned grave. “His Grace hardly sleeps or eats. However, I believe your presence will rectify that.”
A raw ache bloomed in her heart. “I have a frightfully bold plan that requires your utmost discretion.”
“Anything, Miss Danvers,” he said with a small bow. “I am at your disposal.”
“If you could take me to a chamber…in the west wing without the duke knowing.”
“The west wing?”
She wanted complete privacy from the rest of the household for her scandalous plans, and she blushed when the butler’s eyes sharpened with interest.
“I assume there are other chambers ready there and not only the duke’s?”
“There are,” he murmured.
“Then one of those shall do fine. I require a bath, as I am dusty from travel. An hour from now, I would urge you to create a situation that would allow for the duke to enter my chamber,” she said, aware of the furious heat flushing along her entire body.
Yet the butler did not appear censorious but as if he wanted to shout with relief—or glee.
“If you’ll come this way with me, Miss Danvers. All that you requested will be provided with utmost discretion.”