But if he asked for her love, and she gave it, she would ask for, and expect, his love in return. That’s how love worked; that much he knew.
But he didn’t know if he could love.
He could see that far, but no further.
If somewhere deep in his Varisey soul, so deep no other Varisey had ever found it, love lurked, a nascent possibility…
His problem was he didn’t believe that was so.
“Ma’am?”
Minerva looked up from her desk in the duchess’s morning room. “Yes, Retford?” The butler had entered and stood just inside the door.
“The Countess Ashton has arrived, ma’am—one of Lady Susannah’s guests. Unfortunately, Lady Susannah is out riding.”
Minerva inwardly grimaced. “I’ll come down.” Laying aside her pen, she rose. Royce had ridden over the border to visit Hamish, presumably to discuss sheep and the required breeders; she’d hoped to use the time to catch up with her correspondence, which she’d neglected of late.
But duty called.
She consulted the list lying on one side of her desk, then turned to the door. “We’ve put the countess in the west wing—I’m sure Cranny will have the room ready. Please ask her to send up a maid, or has the countess brought one?”
“No, ma’am.” Retford retreated into the corridor. “I’ll speak with Mrs. Cranshaw.”
Retford followed at Minerva’s heels as she went down the corridor and descended the main stairs. In the huge hall below, a lady, curvaceous and dark-haired, turned from examining her reflection in one of the large mirrors.
An extremely modish hat sat atop Lady Ashton’s sleek head. Her carriage gown was the latest in fashionable luxury, beautifully cut from ivory silk twill with magenta silk trimming; the skirts swished as, an easy smile curving delicately tinted lips, her ladyship came forward to meet Minerva.
Stepping down from the last step, Minerva smiled. “Lady Ashton? I’m Miss Chesterton—I act as chatelaine here. Welcome to Wolverstone Castle.”
“Thank you.” Of similar height to Minerva, Lady Ashton possessed classical features, a porcelain complexion, and a pleasant, confident demeanor. “I gather Susannah is out gadding about, leaving me to impose on you.”
Minerva’s smile deepened. “It’s no imposition, I assure you. It’s been some years since the castle hosted a house party—the household is quite looking forward to the challenge.”
The countess tilted her head. “House party?”
Minerva hesitated. “Yes—didn’t Susannah mention it?”
A faint smile on her lips, the countess glanced down. “No, but there was no reason she should. She invited me to another end.”
“Oh.” Minerva wasn’t sure what was going on. “I’m sure Susannah will t
ell you about the party when she returns. Meanwhile, if you’ll come this way, I’ll show you to your room.”
The countess consented to climb the stairs beside her. Halfway up, she grew aware of Lady Ashton’s sideways glance, and turned her head to meet it.
Her ladyship pulled a wry face. “I didn’t like to ask the butler, but is Royce—I suppose I should call him Wolverstone, shouldn’t I? Is he about?”
“I believe he’s out riding at present.”
“Ah.” The countess looked ahead, then shrugged. “He’ll have to cope with us meeting again with others about, then—or if you see him, you might mention I’m here. Susannah sent for me well over a week ago, but I wasn’t in London, so it’s taken a while for me to arrive.”
Minerva wasn’t sure what to make of that. She fastened on the most pertinent fact. “You know Royce.”
The countess smiled, her face transforming into that of a stunning seductress. “Yes, indeed.” Her voice lowered to a purr. “Royce and I know each other very well.” She glanced at Minerva. “I’m sure that’s no real surprise to you, my dear—you must know what he’s like. And while it was Susannah who penned the invitation to me, she made it clear it was for Royce that she summoned me.”
A cold, iron fist gripped Minerva’s heart; her head spun. “I…see.” The countess must be the lady Royce had chosen. Yet Susannah had asked if Minerva knew…but perhaps that was before he’d had Susannah write to the countess.
But why Susannah, rather than Handley?