“Oh no, I’m sure you will find something that is to your liking.”
Both Gilbert and Mr. Jones looked around, examining the pieces.
“These are really quite good!” Mr. Jones said. He seemed surprised.
“Thank you.” Louisa’s voice was soft and she was quite flushed. She made quite the pretty picture. In an objective sort of way, Gilbert could appreciate that his niece was really quite fetching.
“I agree with Mr. Jones. You are quite a talent, Louisa.” He said.
“Thank you, Uncle Gilbert.” She beamed at him and Gilbert found himself smiling back. He didn’t usually have much to do with his niece and so he was surprised to find that it pleased him to make her smile.
Strange.
* * *
Louisa followed her father into the Dower Cottage. It had been hours since the Duke had kissed her, yet her lips were still tingling. She didn’t know how they were to proceed from here.
Am I still supposed to paint his portrait as if nothing has happened?
Even as she spoke and smiled and carried on as normal, her mind was in turmoil. She wanted to talk to somebody about what happened, but she didn’t know who she could confide in. She missed her mother a lot in that moment. So much so that she almost asked about her again. Her father would not say much about her.
In her younger days, before she knew better, Louisa used to ask all the time where her mother was. All her father would say was, “Please don’t ask Louisa. Just know that she is not here.”
Louisa sighed, wishing they were in their home so she could slip out and go see Betty. She dropped down on the sofa in the sitting room and sighed. Her father sat opposite her, studying her with his chin on his knuckles.
“So, how did you like Mr. Jones?” he asked.
Louisa gazed at him in surprise. “Mr. Jones? Why do you ask me that?”
“He’s an intelligent sort. Fairly well to do. Do you think the two of you can get along?”
Louisa brow furrowed. “Of course. He’s a perfectly amiable man.”
Her father smiled. “I thought so myself. And he is just as warmly disposed to you.”
Louisa sat up, stiffening in understanding. “You mean…?”
Americus gave her a pleased smile. “Yes. He is absolutely in favor of the match.”
Louisa got to her feet. “What match, father?”
Americus frowned. “I mean; he is amenable to a match with you. What did you mean?”
Louisa stared at him, awestruck. “You wish me to wed Mr. Jones?”
“Well…yes.” Americus moved his head from one side to the other slowly, uncertainly, “Do you not want to marry him?”
Louisa was stumped for words. She did not understand why her immediate reaction to the news was violent rejection. Her father was right. Mr. Jones was a perfectly-amenable man, a professional man, a man befitting her place in the world.
So why did everything inside of her recoil from even the thought of him touching her? She did not understand…or maybe she did. A little too well.
Because you drive me mad. Those words had been reverberating in her head ever since the Duke had said them.
How dare he do this to me? He had no right.
Her hand went to her still-tingling lips as her mind went back to that moment. Seeing him there, staring at her lips, before his eyes raked her entire face and then down her bosom…they had been poised on the brink of leaping into each other’s arms and throwing caution to the winds.
She did not know what would have happened if her uncle hadn’t knocked on the door just then. She might have let the Duke do whatever he wanted.
I really need to speak with Betty!
“Louisa?”
She jumped, looking back at her father, who was frowning at her.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded, and then hesitated, shaking her head. “I…”
“Louisa? Talk to me.”
Louisa blinked a few times and then got to her feet. “I’m tired. Can we speak more on this in the morning?”
Americus gave her a strained smile. “Of course.”
She hurried out of the room, barricading herself in her chambers. She still had a pitcher of water and an empty basin, the fire was laid ready to be lit. She warmed the water and wiped herself down before climbing into the large four-poster bed and closing her eyes. This bed was certainly more comfortable than her own and she was tired. At any other time, she would have been asleep even before her head hit the pillow.
But now, she could barely close her eyes and lay staring at the ceiling for a long time.
* * *
Jeremy spent the night in his study, going over the accounts. He’d been meaning to do this since he came back and now, he had the energy for it. All that unresolved tension with Louisa had to go somewhere and he was happy to be putting it to good use.
He had almost…defiled her today, because of jealousy over some man she was walking with. He could not believe himself. It was absolutely out of character for him and he did not know what it meant. He was tempted to talk it over with his mother but…he didn’t want to risk giving her an episode. She had been doing so much better recently.
He went down the profit and loss columns, feeling distinctly that something was not quite right, but unable to pinpoint exactly what. He blinked several times, feeling his eyes sting. He did not feel drowsy however.
For a moment, he toyed with sending for some laudanum. That would put him to sleep right quick. The only problem was the dreams. He remembered them well from his time recuperating from his burns. They left him feeling restless, unsettled, and even more tired than when he went to sleep. He would not resort to that if he could possibly help it. He wished wistfully for the herb he’d encountered in the West Indies. That would have made him pleasantly drowsy too, and perhaps he would be able to forget his faux pas.
How am I to face her tomorrow?
He could feel his heart speeding up with anxiety. It was going to be quite awkward for a while, Jeremy could not see any way around it. He contemplated taking a trip to inspect his other properties, in Scotland and Wales, as well as see his man of business in London. It need not take but a few days. His mother would likely be all right for a few days without him. The steward, would no doubt stay close to her as well.
Jeremy frowned at the thought.
He sighed, picking up a bottle of Scotch whiskey and carrying it with him as he trudged up the stairs to bed. At least he could try to get drunk enough to pass out and when he woke up, he would decide what was to be done next.
* * *
As the Dowager Duchess prepared for bed, she was smiling happily, feeling that it had been a good day. She had not thought of her husband in any but the most fondly nostalgic light despite the fact that the fair was in his honor. It had been refreshing to mingle with the townspeople and be reminded of not only their duty but the actual joy of service.
This was their territory and it was their God-given responsibility to make sure not just themselves but their territory prospered. She had been so proud to see so many nobles attend the event. She attributed it to the fact that her husband had been well-regarded as well as a more vulgar curiosity about her long-lost son.
He did us so proud, Joseph!
She felt tearful as she rubbed night cream into her hands. Her heart swelled with happiness as she recalled the hard work her son had done to make sure this festival was a success. She could not have asked for a better son and heir. In his time away from her, he had truly grown up into a gentleman worthy of the name.
She smiled as she applied the cream to her face and stood up to go to her bed, stopping short when she realized that she had not had one episode recently where she forgot where she was, or what she was doing.
Not since...yes, not since the painter and his daughter moved in.
* * *
Americus decided to take a stroll around the grounds before he retired for the evening. He was perturbed at his
daughter’s reaction to his proposition. It left him feeling uncertain.
I am doing the right thing. He insisted to himself, nodding emphatically as he walked slowly toward the small pond at the bottom of the garden.
His daughter needed to be safely ensconced in a relationship soon; before he became so helpless that he could not even pretend competency in taking care of her. It was becoming urgent. Every day, he could feel himself grow weaker.
The look in her eyes...Americus blanched to think of it. Her face had grown so pale, cerulean eyes darkened to ultramarine, and so wide and scared-looking.
Why would she be afraid of marrying someone?
Chapter 18
Banbury Tales
Louisa awoke the next morning to find herself alone in the dower house. There was not so much as a note from her father to tell her where he had gotten off to. She performed her ablutions and then walked out of the house toward the kitchen. The morning air was bracing and she breathed in deep, trying to calm herself down for when she met the Duke again.
“Good morning, Louisa.”
She turned, seeing her uncle standing on the cobbled path, his hands crossed behind his back.
“Good morning, Uncle Gilbert.”
“Did you sleep well?” he took a step toward her and then waited, as if to see if she would scurry off.
“I…slept fine.” She forced a smile, waiting until he fell in step with her. They walked slowly toward the kitchen.
“I…heard your…altercation with the Duke yesterday and I’ve been meaning to ask if you wish me to intervene with him in any way.”
Louisa gazed at him in surprise. “Intervene? In what way?”
Gilbert shook his head. “I’m not sure. He’s my employer and already, he is wary of me. But you are my niece and if need be, I will protect you first.”
Louisa smiled. “That’s very comforting and nice of you to say. Thank you.”
Uncle Gilbert peered at her, returning her smile, “But…?”
“But…I do not need an intervention at this time.” She patted his arm. “But if I do ever need one, I shall be sure to call upon you.”
“I am happy to hear it.”
They smiled at each other before entering the back door, and heading to the kitchen. They sat at the large wooden table and helped themselves to some tea and oat cakes, drizzled with honey.
“Your father, where is he?”
“I don’t know. I woke up and he was gone.”
“Ah. He’s taken to walking the grounds. I see him sometimes, talking to himself like he used to do when we were children.”
Louisa frowned in surprise, looking intently at Uncle Gilbert. “He did? I did not know that.”
Uncle Gilbert laughed. “He might have lost the habit before you came along.”
“What did he talk about before? When you were in leading strings?”
“Oh, he had all these plans for his day. Climbing the oak tree, stealing cakes from the bakery two doors down. He was a little fool who used to make all his nefarious plans out loud.”
Louisa laughed out loud. “That is adorable. It’s a pity he lost the habit.”
“It is indeed. For one thing, he advertised all his moves long before making them. It was tremendously convenient for me as I generally wanted to foil them.”
“It must be quite fun to have a sibling. I have always wished for one.” Louisa said wistfully.
“It is not as interesting as one might imagine. You’re constantly competing for everything and there is half as much food as you might have on your own.”
“Well, the good news is I expect you can have as much good food as you want now.”
“Yes, that is true. We do run a very generous kitchen here.”
“Speaking of…” Louisa got to her feet. “I should go.”
“I have not seen His Grace this morning,” Uncle Gilbert protested, “I do not think he will be available.”
Louisa felt her heart drop. She had been girding her loins to meet the Duke again and now he was not even going to bother to turn up? She felt anger surge through her breast and was surprised to feel that way.
“Oh…well, I shall go and work on the painting anyway. Good day, Uncle Gilbert.”
“Good day, niece,” he called.
She walked slowly toward the conservatory, wondering if she would find him waiting or he would avoid her. They could not ignore what had happened yesterday forever.
Or can we?
She came to a stop outside the door, closing her eyes and breathing in deeply. Then she reached out, eyes still closed, and opened the door. She stepped into the room and turned immediately to close the door behind her. She listened carefully, but didn’t hear anything apart from the occasional susurrus of swaying leaves and birds calling to each other outside.
She sighed, turning around, expecting that she was alone. So she jumped when she saw the Dowager Duchess standing in front of her painting, studying it intently.
“Oh, Your Grace…” she said breathlessly.
The Dowager Duchess turned to face her, her eyes, the exact green of her son’s, regarding her solemnly. “I would like to apologize to you, Miss Notley,” she said.
The pounding of Louisa’s heart increased in tempo and speed, “Oh yes? What about?” she swallowed, praying that Her Grace had not heard about that disastrous kiss.
“I completely underestimated you simply on the premise that you are a woman. I, of all people, should know better than to do that.” The Dowager Duchess smiled gently and Louisa’s stomach twisted with a mixture of relief and – surprisingly – disappointment.
“Oh…well, I forgive you.” She gave a soft laugh, her eyes wide and wet as she smiled at the Duke’s mother.
Her Grace looked back at the painting, running a hand over the image of his hand, careful not to touch the canvas. “He has suffered so much. It changed him. Sometimes, it’s like he never came home at all.”
She turned to look at Louisa, a forced smile on her face, “Then he met you and the life has returned to his eyes.”
Louisa shook her head in denial. “No…it’s not me. He must just be getting used to being back home. I imagine it took him a while to adjust.”
Her Grace kept staring at her, with blank eyes. “You might have the right of it.” She shrugged one shoulder, “I don’t really know. We have never been here. I am not who I was before – and I suppose, neither is he.”
“But that doesn’t mean that you’re broken,” Louisa said earnestly, stepping closer and wrapping her left hand around the Dowager Duchess’ arm. “You have suffered some great losses…and survived it. But of course, those losses have left their mark.”
“You’re exceeding wise for one so young.”
Louisa smiled wryly. “Not really. I just listen a lot. My father is a great one for giving advice.”
“Mm, well, perhaps you can teach my son to listen.”
“Oh, I would not presume to teach a duke anything,” Louisa said with a mock frown and then a wide grin. She was gratified when the Dowager Duchess smiled slowly back.
“You never know what you can do until you try.” She murmured with a quirk of her head before sighing deeply and wiping the intimate look from her eyes. “Have you eaten? I feel a little peckish. Will you break the fast with me?”
Louisa hesitated, not feeling at all hungry but not wanting to say no. “All right,” she said at last. Her Grace looped her arm through Louisa’s and they walked out of the room together.
The Dowager Duchess’ breakfast was much different than the one Louisa had. For one thing, the table was more elaborately set. There was also a wider array of choices including tea and coffee. Louisa went for the former along with a slice of freshly-baked break liberally spread with butter and honey. She relished the soft deliciousness of her snack coupled with hot sweet tea.
I can get used to this. She gave a happy sigh, deliberately thrusting all the things that were stressing her into the back of her mind. Sh
e and Her Grace spoke softly of various things including the outlandish costumes they had seen at the fair and the huge scandal that had ensued because the Duchess of Greyfield lost her ruby brooch and then loudly accused the Countess of Highbury of taking it.
“The only fight I saw were between a couple of peasants,” Louisa said wryly. “It’s true what they say about nobles it seems.”
Tempting The Ruined Duke (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 15
