Page 49 of The Heiress Gets a Duke
Papa kept a neutral expression. “It appears just as I imagine an ancestral estate to appear. Old and rather ill-used. Thank God he has the London town house.”
“Do you...” Violet swallowed audibly as the Rothschild carriage, which had met them at the train station, swept around a curve in the long drive so that the facade could be appreciated from a new angle. “Do you suppose it is plumbed?”
No one did.
A line of people had gathered outside the front steps. The servants were wearing the family’s royal blue and black livery, but her gaze was immediately drawn to the figure on the top step. His tawny hair and broad shoulders were unmistakable, as was his chiseled visage. August ran her fingertips over the curls that spilled from beneath her hat to frame her face. Mary had insisted on curling the strands that morning. At first, August had declined the offer, but the woman had insisted that it was just the look the hat needed, so she had relented. Now she was glad of Mary’s persistence.
Violet glanced at her and muttered, “You look lovely.”
August nodded her thanks but silently bemoaned how her sister seemed to know what she was doing. Violet might draw the wrong conclusion. August could want to look nice for him while still not wanting to marry him. The two were not mutually exclusive goals.
The moment the carriage drew to a halt at the base of the wide steps, a groom moved forward and opened the door. A second placed a step down to ease their departure. August tried and failed not to make eye contact with Rothschild as she took the offered hand and disembarked. He made it impossible as he had come down the steps and was smiling at her. “Good afternoon, Miss Crenshaw. I trust your journey was uneventful?”
What was it about the precise tenor of his voice that settled into her like hot tea on a cold and rainy day? “Yes, thank you.”
He offered his hand, and she took it more on instinct than any actual thought. After placing a chaste kiss on theback, he said, “My apologies for not meeting you at the station. I was delayed in London on business and only arrived not very long ago.”
His eyes were full of regret, and she found herself wondering again how things might have been different for them had he not been a fortune-hunting scoundrel.
She nodded and meant to reply but Papa was faster. “Do not trouble yourself, Your Grace. We were well taken care of by your man there.”
Though his gaze lingered on her, Rothschild slowly took himself down the line until he had greeted every member of her family. The duchess stood on the bottom step with a pleasant smile on her face and two young women August could only assume to be her daughters at her side. They looked like younger versions of the duchess herself.
“Good afternoon, Your Grace. It’s lovely to see you again.” Despite her mixed feelings about the woman’s son, August quite liked the woman herself. There was an innate kindness about her face, and a directness in her gaze that was comforting rather than off-putting. It made one feel seen and accepted.
“I hope your journey went well,” the woman said. After she had been assured that it had and pleasantries were exchanged with the rest of the family, she turned to her daughters with obvious pride on her face. “May I present my daughters, Elizabeth and Louisa.”
The differences between the twins were immediately obvious. Louisa effused warmth like her mother, while Elizabeth seemed more reserved and wary. They would not be her future sisters, because August had already determined how the week would end, but she still felt anxious and hoped that they would like her.
“Come inside,” said the duchess. “We have your rooms prepared and waiting. You must all wish to refresh yourselves after your journey. We tend to keep country hours here, so dinner will be served in an hour.”
The entry hall was wide and paneled in oak. It might have been dark had there not been a huge multipaned window over the front door that allowed in the weak afternoonsun. It was enough light to illuminate the grand staircase toward the back of the hall lined with paintings. The walls were painted a faded and rather shabby red, and the carpets were worn and frayed. A peek toward the drawing room revealed comfortable but worn furnishings.
She dared not comment on any of it. Instead she bade Her Grace good afternoon as she followed the maid that had been assigned to lead her to her room. The back of her gloved hand still tingled from the light touch of Rothschild’s lips. Being near him did strange things to her. Suddenly, her plan for surviving the coming week, namely, ignoring him, did not seem as clear as it once had.
***
Mary had just finished the intricate knot on the crown of August’s head when a knock sounded at the door of the bedroom she had been given. The room was comfortably furnished but, like everything else in the house, faded with time. The walls had once been rose, she was almost certain, but had become a muddled color somewhere between beige and brown.
“That must be Her Grace. Could you answer it, Mary?” August asked and then rubbed a bit of rose-tinted salve onto her lips. The caller certainly wasn’t a member of her own family, who would politely knock before barging in.
“Your Grace.” Mary went into a deep curtsy, but something about her disposition had August glancing up.
She rose from the bench at her dressing table when she saw Rothschild. “What are you doing here?”
“I have come to escort you downstairs.” He grinned, his gaze straying down to take in her clothing. She couldn’t stop her hands from drifting down the bodice of her gown, suddenly concerned if he would like the emerald gown with black piping as much as she had. Not that it mattered what he thought. Why did it matter?
“I am perfectly capable of escorting myself downstairs.” The words came out harsher than she had intended.
His perusal of her broke off immediately, and she worried that she had hurt him when his gaze went to Mary. Sensingthat he wanted a moment alone with her, she said, “That will be all, Mary. Thank you.” She really shouldn’t send the maid away. His presence was improper even with Mary here, but part of her was too curious to care about propriety.
The maid bobbed a series of curtsies and somehow made her way out the door as she did so. The second her footsteps began to disappear down the corridor, Rothschild came across the room to stand before her.
“Are we back to this again?” Displeasure showed in his every step. “This antagonism. I thought we had come to an understanding, but I can see we have returned to needless baiting.”
He was right. She was already regretting her outburst. There was no need for the bitterness, especially since the boundaries had already been established and an agreement made. She could walk away from him after the week was finished. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” His eyes widened slightly. “You surprised me. I didn’t think you would come to my bedroom. On that note, we should really continue this conversation in the hallway so that we are not left alone.”
His grin was immediately back in place. “I came because I thought you might need to see me, and I can see I was right,” he said, ignoring the part about them being alone.
