“I will,” she agreed, her voice soft now. “I thank you for your consideration, Your Grace. I shall do as you ask and be ready for the arrival of the carriage once I have dressed. The door to the gatehouse will be open, did you say?”
He nodded, aware of just how thrilled his heart was at her agreement but doing his utmost to hide it, even from himself. “All will be prepared for you, Lady Wells. Until this evening.” He resisted the urge to take her hand and bow over it, knowing how ridiculous he would appear should anyone else walk into the stables at that very moment. Instead, he simply inclined his head and snapped his heels together, making Lady Wells smile up at him, her cheeks still a little flushed. Walking from the stables and leaving Lady Wells to continue with her duties, Matthew found himself smiling broadly as he walked back outside. This evening was going to be quite marvelous, he was certain of it, and just as long as everything went smoothly, Lady Wells need not fear that she might be discovered.
A small flurry of anticipation rose in his heart as he made his way back to the house, thinking to himself that he too would have to ensure that he was dressed in his very best this evening. He wanted everything to be as good as it could be for Lady Wells. Rubbing his hands together in eager anticipation, Matthew rang the bell for his butler, intending to go over the menu again for this evening before ensuring that a bath was drawn and that his valet laid out his most suitable attire. He could hardly wait.
Chapter Ten
A torrent of nervousness flooded Catherine’s heart as she looked back at herself in the mirror that lay on the small table in one corner of the gatehouse. The maid, Jenny, had done a remarkable job with Catherine’s dark tresses, which had not been properly brushed in some time! It had been a little painful to have all the knots brushed free, but Catherine had encouraged Jenny to do so without hesitation, feeling herself quite glad that she was able to have her hair free from its usual confines. The maid had, of course, done as she had been asked although still appeared rather afraid that Catherine was going to complain bitterly about what she had done.
“You have done very well, Jenny,” Catherine told her, seeing the maid bite her lip as she added the last of the seed pearls to Catherine’s hair, which had been piled up on the back of her head with curls then tumbling down from it. Quite how the maid had managed to find the gown and also all that she would need to ensure Catherine’s hair was a work of art, Catherine did not know, but she wanted to encourage the girl and remove the fear from her gaze. “Thank you.”
“You are very welcome, Miss.”
Catherine smiled at her and rose to her feet, brushing down the dark green gown that fitted her almost perfectly. Jenny had been ready with a needle and thread, ready to tackle the gown and alter it if required, but Catherine had not wanted her to go to such lengths. It was quite lovely as it was, even if it was a little long. “Now, we are to wait for the duke’s carriage, I believe,” she said, finding that she needed to say something rather than allow silence to fill the small gatehouse. “I am quite prepared, I think.”
“Yes, Miss,” Jenny murmured, turning around to tidy up a few things.
“And you are to join us?” Catherine asked, her stomach twisting this way and that as she thought of sitting in the carriage with the duke as though she were a young lady being courted by such a gentleman. “Or am I to travel alone?”
Jenny’s eyes flared in surprise, but she dropped her gaze to the ground. “The duke was most specific, Miss,” she said, clearly unaware of Catherine’s title or even her name. “I am to stay with you at all times, although I shall remain in shadow during the time of your meal. I shall not eavesdrop either, I give you my word.”
Catherine flushed. “I should not even have thought of accusing you of such a thing,” she replied, just as the sound of carriage wheels began to crunch over the gravel next to the house. The duke had arrived. “I am glad you will be present, Jenny, truly. Thank you for all of your assistance this afternoon.”
Jenny bobbed a curtsy and, for the first time since Catherine had walked into the gatehouse, gave a small smile. Catherine, pushing aside her nervousness, made her way to the door at the back of the gatehouse—not the one she had entered—and stepped outside. The back door was fairly well hidden, with thick branches above her shrouding her in shadow although the path itself was not at all overgrown. Stepping carefully along the short path that led to the road and hearing Jenny behind her, Catherine’s breath began to quicken as she saw the carriage door being pulled open for her, although it was not a footman or tiger who held it for her but rather the duke himself. It seemed he was to hide her from as many of his staff as he could, although she greatly appreciated that he had ensured that Jenny would be present with her at all times. Propriety, it seemed, was being observed in some small way, even though she, in dressing as Leighton and in running
away from home, had quite thrown such a thing aside.
“Lady Wells.”
The duke bowed low as she stepped from the small path and onto the gravel strewn drive. Her heart was beating so furiously that Catherine felt quite certain the duke could hear it, and she was feeling as though her gown suddenly became very heavy and weighed her steps down as she tried to approach him.
“Your Grace,” she murmured, dropping into a perfect curtsy. It seemed she had not forgotten how to do such a thing in these last weeks, and as she lifted her head, Catherine saw that the duke himself was grinning at her.
“You are quite the lady, Lady Wells,” he murmured, offering her his hand and gesturing for her to climb into the carriage with the other. “Quite a remarkable transformation, I must say.”
Catherine’s heart fluttered. “I thank you, Your Grace,” she said, a trifle unsteadily as she accepted his hand. “It is certainly very different to what I have begun to become accustomed to.”
The duke laughed at this and Catherine felt her stomach swirl with breathless anticipation as she stepped inside the carriage, letting go of the duke’s hand and then settling back in her seat. Smoothing her skirts, she watched as the duke then waited for Jenny to climb in before doing so himself. The steps were removed and the door shut by one of the tigers, and thereafter, the carriage was on its way.
“I thought we might take a short turn about the place,” the duke said pleasantly. “It is a beautiful afternoon and, on top of which, it will be evidence to my staff that I have, as I said, gone to your door to bring you back to my townhouse.” Another easy smile. “You need have no fear, however, that anything will be said by either Jenny or those driving the carriage. They will say nothing.”
“I am grateful,” Catherine replied, her hands tight in her lap as she felt an uncomfortable swirling rushing all through her at the sight of the duke’s smile and the warmth in his eyes. “You have gone to a great deal of trouble on my behalf, and I am certain this evening will be quite wonderful.”
“I hope it will be,” the duke replied, before turning to the window and beginning to talk about what was just outside. Catherine found herself settling back against the squabs as he spoke, interested in all that he had to say and finding the tension she had felt upon stepping into the carriage beginning to drain away.
The duke talked about the history of the estate, of the village and even of the stories that had been carried from one generation to the next. She found herself smiling at him as he continued to speak, realizing that she very much enjoyed the duke’s company and, from the expression on his face, it appeared that he felt much the same way as she.
This ease of manner and contentedness in each other’s company continued on through dinner, which Catherine had to admit was quite wonderful. She had forgotten just how lovely it was to sit around a table in good company and enjoy the many delectable dishes that were brought from the kitchens. Jenny, of course, did as she had been bade and sat in the corner of the room, her back to them so that she could not watch them. Catherine was grateful for her presence although she was quite certain that the duke would do nothing improper. It was quite an unusual feeling to be sitting with a duke of the realm and enjoying his conversation, as though they were great friends and had been so for some time.
At a small lull in their conversation, Catherine allowed herself to study the duke a little more carefully. He appeared to be quite relaxed, his expression giving off an appearance of contentedness and happiness, which she had to admit she had also. He was a handsome gentleman, of course, but Catherine had never believed herself to be affected by appearance alone. Now, however, an unsettling realization came over her. The reason her heart had quickened when she had seen him waiting for her at the gatehouse, the reason she had found herself looking forward to being in his company again was because she had something of a fondness for him.
The realization took her breath away and she accidentally dropped her dessert spoon with a clatter.
The duke’s eyes filled with concern. “Are you quite all right, Lady Wells?”
Her face burning, Catherine nodded and muttered an apology, picking up her cutlery again and praying that she would not be so foolish again. She had to rid herself of such notions, for to have any sort of affection for the duke was quite ridiculous. His reason for having her here at his estate, his only drive to allow her to ride Beauchamp was so that she could win the Gold Cup and bring him the prestige that he so desired. There was nothing more to it than that. Yes, it was kind of him to show her such consideration and certainly she appreciated the friendship that had been struck up between them, but she could not allow herself to be at all clouded in emotion when it came to the duke. Their paths would part soon enough. She would have to return home whilst he would remain here, able to continue with his passion of horse racing without any restraint.
“Tell me,” she said suddenly, as the plates were cleared away. “What is it about the Gold Cup that fills you with so much determination?”