“No, my lord,” Tibbons replied.
Nicholas frowned. After all these years, he had believed Mr. Rutley had been included in their boyhood fun. Yet, how had he come to that conclusion?
“Then how did you know him?” Nicholas asked.
Tibbons stuck his hands in his trouser pockets. “I used to work for him, my lord. I was his driver, but I left soon after his passing.”
“I wasn’t aware of that.”
“It was many years ago, my lord,” the driver replied. “Mrs. Rutley was just a young wife then, not the headmistress we know now.”
Nicholas nodded. “Do you think she remembers you?”
Tibbons laughed. “I was but a simple driver, my lord. I doubt a woman such as she would have taken notice.”
Nicholas noticed that Tibbons’s face lit up when he spoke of Mrs. Rutley. Was the man secretly pining for her but did not wish to discuss it? Well, it was no business of his. Whom his driver hankered mattered little as long as the man did his job. And he did so without fault.
With the wind growing colder and having plenty of other things to ponder, Nicholas entered the carriage.
The ride home was quick, and once he entered the foyer of Rosling Estate, his butler greeted him.
“My lord, a letter arrived for you while you were away.”
“Thank you, Osborne,” Nicholas said, taking the folded piece of parchment from him. “I’ll be in my office if you need me.”
“The fire is ready, my lord.”
With a nod, Nicholas entered his office and, as promised, was greeted with a roaring fire that warmed his chilled body. Looking at the letter, his eyes narrowed as he recognized the handwriting. It was from Lady Ayles. Without thought, he threw the letter into the flames and walked to his desk.
Despite his attempts to keep himself busy with work, his mind continued to return to Miss Clifton, the young lady who would play his fiancée.
And he found the idea not as impossible as he had once thought.
Chapter Fifteen
Alight blanket of snow covered the ground as Jenny peered out the carriage window. With her new mask clutched in her hand, she and Louisa made their way to Rosling estate. Foregoing any added plumage, she had painted the mask black with yellow and gold hues to match the gown she had chosen to wear.
Today she was meant to luncheon with the earl, who felt the need to test her skills. She had spent hours studying and rehearsing the history of her fictitious life. Today was not only to impress Lord Dowding, but it also allowed for the opportunity to be near him once more.
Lord Dowding may have sworn off any sort of romance, but Jenny was determined to see him reconsider that notion. Neither could deny the mutual attraction they shared. It just needed some work.
Her mind drifted to their fake engagement. Or rather the one which would soon take place. In her mind, she pictured Lord Dowding holding her hands and confessing it was no longer a ruse. That the feelings—no, the passion—inside him could no longer be restrained.
“We are far more than friends,” he would whisper. “And I mean to prove it to you. To us. To everyone.”
He would take hold of her waist and kiss her so fiercely that she would rise off the floor. It would be exactly as she had imagined her first kiss to be—strong, possessive, fulfilling. And just as she had read in her novels, he would carry her away on his stallion—black, of course. No self-possessed hero rode a dapple or brown mount—and they would gallop away into the sunset to live out their passionate lives together.
Forever.
The wheel of the carriage hit a hole in the road, causing the vehicle to lurch and break Jenny from her thoughts.
“It’s strange,” Louisa said as she twirled a finger around a honey-blonde strand and stared out the window in a dreamy fashion. “Sir Aaron Kirkwood keeps invading my thoughts. I can’t help but think he regrets his harsh treatment of me. Do you think he’ll remember me?”
“The hero knight?” Jenny laughed. “After what you said and did at the tobacconist, I doubt he’ll ever forget that particular interaction. Consider yourself lucky no one witnessed what happened. Who knows what sort of rumors such an incidence might create? But I can assure you, none would put you in a positive light.”
Louisa shook her head and whispered, “I could live with such a punishment if he had kissed me.” She pursed her lips, lifted her chin, and crossed her arms, a defiant look on her features. “But what difference does it make? He’s lost any chance to become my suitor.”
“And if he reappears and wishes to kiss you?” Jenny asked. “Would you allow him to do so?”