Page 73 of Stolen By the Duke of Ice
“Peter,” Dahlia stopped him. “Was not Matteo due to arrive this afternoon? Did I mistake the time?”
“No, indeed, you are not mistaken.”
“The Duke of Valen? Dahlia mentioned in the express she sent me that he would also be staying as a guest, Your Grace,” Helena said.
“Indeed, My Lady.”
“Is he travelling from London? Ours was a relatively uneventful trip.”
“Yes, he travels from London.”
“I hope he has not encountered any difficulties in getting here.”
“I hope the same.”
“Should we be worried?” Dahlia asked Peter.
“I would not; Matteo has never been one for punctuality.” Peter grinned. “But I shall stop there, lest I paint a bad picture of my friend.”
Once shown their chambers, Dahlia left her guests to rest and freshen up. She went to look for Mrs. Baker, giving her instructions for the guests’ meals. After that she spent some time with Mary and Claire in the sitting room—Peter was noticeably absent—before excusing herself to check on their visitors again.
Dinner was brought up to Helena and Charity’s respective rooms.
Dahlia kept her friend company only long enough for her to finish her meal. Helena was giving her updates on Celine’s confinement when her eyes started to droop. Biting her lips to stop a laugh, Dahlia gently tapped her friend’s arm.
“I think I shall bid you a good night, Helena.”
“What? No, there is still so much we must talk about!”
“Helena, you are falling asleep.” Dahlia giggled. “Your words are slurred, my dearest friend.”
After their good night greetings, Dahlia went to her own chambers to change for bed. When Biddy had left her, she looked at her door. For the past few days, she had been meeting with Peter in the sitting room every night after the twins had retired. It had been an unspoken arrangement; they just knew to be there.
Dahlia wondered if their having guests would change that. Wrapping herself in her warm garments, she picked up her candle and headed to the sitting room.
Peter had not wanted to worry Dahlia, so he feigned unconcern for Matteo’s delay in arriving. In truth, he had started to worry. And so, he was much relieved when his friend’s carriage pulled up in the driveway.
“You do know that you are half a day late, don’t you, Duke?” Peter shook his head as he watched his friend exit the carriage.
“A duke is never late.”
Laughing, the two men, shook hands and patted each other’s backs.
“I am only sorry that I shall not be able to greet Dahlia. Has she retired?” Matteo asked as they walked inside the castle.
“She is with her friend. The other guest I wrote to you about.”
“What other guest?”
“Guests,” Peter emphasized the plural.“Were you perhaps in your cups when you read my letter?”
Matteo gave him an insulted look.
“Please. I was in my cup. It was but one drink.”
“You are still a rascal.”
“So, is this to be a house party then? How many other guests are there?”
