A warm fire with him near would lead to far more than a simple chat. With rain still falling, she could barely make out his form even though he was only a few feet away. She remained completely still to keep her hiding place secret.
“Dammit, Selina!” he shouted. “Where the bloody hell are you?”
The angry tone of his voice was just one more reason to keep quiet. At least now it sounded as if he was going deeper into the copse of trees. With him farther away, he might not find her tonight. If he did, he would surely tell her that his kiss meant nothing. He’d only been trying to make her feel better.
He was nothing more than a rake. All the rumors she’d heard about him over the years were true. She felt a pang of pity for his impending bride.
She stilled her thoughts and listened for him again. A twig snapped a distance away and then she heard a muttered curse. Knowing this might be her only chance, she broke away from the trees and ran toward the house.
Randall opened the door as she approached the house. “Is everything all right, Miss White?” he asked hesitantly.
“Yes,” she replied with a quick glance back toward the pond. “I’m just wet from the rain.”
“I shall call for a bath,” he said and then walked down the hall to fetch the footmen.
“Thank you, Randall.” She hastily made her way up the back staircase to the third floor before the duke arrived back home. She closed her door and leaned against the hard wood as all the emotions of the night surfaced. Covering her face with her hands, she mumbled, “How could I have let him kiss me?”
She’d been so upset about Susan’s baby and then seeing him had only made her angry. And yet, those few moments in his arms gave her comfort and warmth and for some reason she felt certain he’d understood her pain. If it had ended there, she might not have thought any more about it. But she’d felt his reaction to their kiss when he pulled her hips tightly against his. His arousal had been long and hard, and she’d wanted to rub against him like a wanton.
She had wanted him tonight.
She couldn’t deny that she found him attractive in a dark brooding manner. But tonight was different. If she hadn’t come to her senses, she might have let him take her up to his room and make love all night long. That idea was mad. She would never become involved with a married man. While the duke had yet to say his vows, a betrothal meant a contract to marry.
Besides, how could she think of such a thing when she knew he hated her?
Slowly she undressed, but as she did, one thought wouldn’t leave her mind. If he hated her as he appeared to, why did he kiss her?
It made no sense.
As she reached for her night rail, she wondered about that.
He forced her to leave the estate because of her mother, but could there have been another reason? Could he desire her and think it best to remove her from his presence so he wouldn’t be tempted? She laughed aloud at her fanciful imagination.
After a few minutes more of pondering, she finally decided their kiss had been nothing but a quick lapse in judgment. Tomorrow, he would be kicking himself for kissing the wise woman . . . if he wasn’t already. She’d tasted the brandy on his velvety tongue. Too much drink was likely the explanation for his behavior.
Although, she could hardly blame brandy on her reaction to his heated kiss.
But what woman wouldn’t respond to the kisses of a handsome man? Besides, while he might be a rake, he was still a gentleman. He would most likely even apologize if she saw him tomorrow. And she would be gracious and accept his apology without condemning him. It was simply a mistake on both their parts.
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. As footmen brought in the tub and buckets of water, she walked to the window and stared out. Had he returned yet? What if something had happened to him while he’d been searching for her?
“Has the duke arrived back home?” she asked one of the footmen.
“I don’t believe he left the house tonight, Miss White. He’s been in his study all evening.”
Oh, dear God, no one knew he’d left his study. “Ask Randall to check on His Grace. I thought I saw him near the pond when I was coming back from Mrs. Wells’s home.”
“Yes, miss.”
Once they were gone, she blew out all but one candle and slipped into the steaming water. A soft sigh escaped her as her cold muscles finally relaxed. He would be fine, she told herself. So why couldn’t she believe that? He’d been born and raised here. He knew this estate better than most. But if something happened to him, it would be her fault for not speaking up when he had called out for her.
She washed quickly and then dressed in her night rail again. Standing near her bed, she bit down on her bottom lip, worried that she had caused the Duke of Northrop harm. She blew out the candle and walked toward the window. Pushing the curtain back slightly, she stared out into the dark night. At least the rain had finally stopped.
Selina spied a figure by the pond and then gasped. For a long moment, she could only gaze down at him as if in a trance. She blinked, quickly pushed the curtain in front of the window, and moved away. Her hand shook as she reached for the servants’ bell. He’d been staring up directly at her.
Her hiding place had been discovered!
Colin stared up at the window on the third floor. His body trembled from the cold, wet clothing he wore but his mind raced with insane thoughts. Perhaps his mind was playing with him again. Trying to clear his mind, he looked away and then back to the window. The image of the woman was gone as quickly as the flickering light had disappeared.
Even as chilly as he was, he sat on the pond wall and continued to stare up at the window for a few minutes. When nothing reappeared, he counted the number of windows over and then decided to act. He raced back to the door of his study and then headed for the stairs.
“Your Grace, you’re all wet,” Randall exclaimed.
“Yes, I am, Randall.”
“Wait,” Randall said as Colin reached for the first step. “Your Grace, can you look at something?”
Colin growled. “Can it wait?”
Randall’s face crumpled. “I’m sorry, sir. I just . . .”
“What is it?” Colin asked, approaching the young man.
Randall pushed up the sleeve of his jacket and pointed to a small mole. “Do you think this is something I should ask Miss White about?”
Remembering that Randall wasn’t the brightest man in his employ, Colin mentally counted to ten for patience. “It’s a mole, Randall.” He pushed up the sleeve of his own jacket. “See, I have several on my arm too.”
“So, I don’t have to worry about it?”
“No, Randall.”
Randall let out an exaggerated sigh. “Thank you, Your Grace. Shall I call for a bath for you?”
“Not yet,” he answered as he turned back to the steps. He climbed the marble stairs, cursing his wet boots for slowing him down.
“When then?” Randall mumbled.
“Later.”
Colin didn’t stop until he reached the third floor. He counted off the rooms and then hurled the fourth door open so hard it bounced off the wall and swung back toward him. The room was completely empty. But as he walked inside, the smell of a recently blown out candle wafted past his nose. Mixed with the acrid smell was a hint of lavender.
Someone or something had been in this room tonight. He moved toward the linen press and opened the cabinet doors. It, too, was completely empty. He spun around. There were no cloths on the furnishings. He was not losing his mind.
“Your Grace, what are you about wandering up here this evening?” Mrs. Roberts walked into the room. “Why, you are soaked to the bone! You need to get those things off before you catch your death.”
He looked over at Mrs. Roberts and frowned. “I was outside and noticed a candle flickering up here. I came up to investigate.”
Mrs. Roberts looked down at the floor. “I apologize, Your Grace. Miss White gave me some herbs for my gout and they make
it hard for me to sleep. I thought I would get a start on freshening up the rooms on this floor. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“I did not realize you were having issues sleeping.” The plump old face of Mrs. Roberts was not what he’d seen in the window.
“It’s better than the pain of the gout,” she replied with a hearty laugh. “Come down and let me call for a bath for you.”
He nodded. Perhaps a bath would help clear his mind. After spending almost two hours searching for Selina, he’d finally given up. She did indeed know this land better than he. Although, he hated the idea of her walking all the way back to Hart’s estate in the dark . . . alone. He should do something about that but the only sensible option was having her return here. And that kiss tonight proved he desired her far too much to allow her near him again.
He followed Mrs. Roberts down the stairs to his room and waited for his bath. Hearing the floor creak above him, he ignored the sound. There was no spirit in this house. It was only his imagination. The floor creaked because it was made of wood, which expanded and contracted depending on the weather.
The only thing he couldn’t explain was the face in the window.
It had been there. And he knew without a doubt that the face had not been Mrs. Roberts’s. The woman’s face was much younger and thinner than his housekeeper’s face. He raked his fingers through his wet hair. The woman, like the sounds, was his imagination.
God, he could not wait for Kate and her mother to arrive. Even though having them here would drive him mad, at least it was a madness to which he was accustomed. The emptiness of this house had to be the cause of his foolishness. Well, that and a petite blond who was driving him insane.
Chapter 8
A loud knock on her bedchamber door woke Selina at seven the next morning. The servants knew she didn’t enjoy getting up early. There must be another tenant who needs her, she thought.
“Selina, please let me in.”
Hearing the worried tone of Mrs. Roberts, Selina assumed the worst. Perhaps their quick bedchamber move last night didn’t work and the duke had discovered that she was living under his nose. “Come in.”
Mrs. Roberts walked into the room and went directly to the linen press. “Get up, girl,” she said as she pulled out a cotton dress.
“What is going on?”
“His Grace just called for Zeus to be saddled. He said he was heading to the earl’s lands. We can’t take the chance he means to go to Mrs. Featherstone’s house and check on you.”
“Why would he do that?”
“He confessed to Mr. Roberts that he had seen you last night by the pond and that you had run away. The duke said he’d wanted you to stay the night here because of the rain and darkness. He searched for over two hours trying to find you last night.”
“Two hours?” Selina whispered.
“Yes. He finally decided you must have returned to Mrs. Featherstone’s cottage.” Mrs. Roberts laced up Selina’s stays. “He appeared very worried.”
Or worried that she might tell someone that he kissed her, she thought. “I doubt he cared whether I made it to Mia’s house or not.”
Mrs. Roberts draped the green cotton dress over Selina’s head. “Of course he cares. But he is a troubled man. When I found him in your room last night, he looked slightly mad. He was soaked to the bone from searching for you.”
She’d barely slept last night from the guilt of leaving him in the rain. Selina nodded. “Thank you again for all your help last night.”
“Selina, you must be more cautious with the candles.”
“I will not use them unless I know he has retired.” As Mrs. Roberts buttoned up her dress, Selina asked, “How did you get everything out of that room before he arrived?”
“Randall detained him for a few moments. Just long enough to get the tub out of your room and into the bedchamber across the hall.”
Selina smiled, remembering the commotion of five footmen, Mrs. Roberts, and a few maids all getting her items out of the room before the duke arrived. This was not safe for them. “I really should consider moving to Mia’s house. It is not right that I put you and the other servants in a position that could cost you your jobs.”
“Hush,” Mrs. Roberts scolded. “You will do no such thing. Just remember to pull the bell five times like you did last night should we need to move you quickly.”
“I will, thank you.” Selina adjusted the bodice of her dress. “I can’t make it all the way to Mia’s house before the duke. He will have a head start on me.”
Mrs. Roberts pulled Selina’s hair up into a tight chignon. “No, he will need to dress and eat first. He always eats a large breakfast. While he does that, Mr. Sellers has a lad who will ride with you until you are at least halfway to the earl’s lands. He will take your horse and you will start walking toward Northrop Park as if you are coming to check on a tenant.”
Selina blew out a breath and then started to dress. “What do I tell him if he sees me and stops?”
“Tell him you are going to check on Mrs. Wells.”
Something she had to do today anyway. He wouldn’t question her motive. “Very well.”
Once dressed, she headed for the stables where a stableboy waited with a horse for her. “We’ll ride for thirty minutes and then I’ll take yer horse back through the woods so His Grace don’t see me.”
“Thank you, James.”
They rode out quickly, heading toward the Earl of Hartsfield’s lands. Selina wished she could ride like this all the time. It would make getting to the tenants’ homes so much quicker, but she couldn’t afford a horse. Once they reached the earl’s property, she stopped her mare and jumped down.
“Here you go, James,” she said, handing him the reins. “Be safe and don’t let the duke see you.”
“I will, miss.”
As she walked back toward Northrop Park, her heart filled with warmth at all the tenants and servants were doing for her. They were putting their own lives at stake to help her. She owed them everything and could only pay them back by healing them when sick.
She pulled the pins out of her hair and rubbed her head. There was nothing worse than having her hair up in a chignon. It gave her headaches.
After walking for a few minutes, she heard the sound of a horse galloping closer. She looked up to see the duke gaining on her. His coattails flew out behind him as he rode. She paused for a moment and stared at the handsome man approaching her. A spark of excitement coursed through her.
He slowed his pace when he caught sight of her. “What are you about this morning, Miss White?”
The horse stopped close enough that she could pat his head. The friendly beast nuzzled her cheek. “I am walking to Mrs. Wells’s home.”
“At this hour?”
“By the time I arrive on foot, it will be close to nine. I’m quite certain she will be awake.” If the poor woman had slept at all last night. Selina dreaded going back to the house. She had lain awake for hours last night, attempting to determine what had happened during the pregnancy. No answer had ever come to her. And when she wasn’t thinking about Susan Wells, their kiss occupied her thoughts for hours. Even now, she couldn’t help but stare at his molded lips and wonder how it would feel if he kissed her again. Enough of that nonsense, she scolded herself. He was betrothed.
“You have no horse?” he asked softly.
Selina rolled her eyes. “How would I afford one, Your Grace? The tenants pay me with what they have . . . a chicken, a bottle of wine or gin; they don’t have much.”
He climbed down from the large chestnut horse and stood next to her. “I have never thought about it. Of course, I tried to find you last night so you might have stayed at my home. It wouldn’t be so long of a walk from there.”
“It would be highly improper to stay overnight at the home of an unmarried man,” she retorted.
“Hmm.” He sounded terribly unconvinced.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I jus
t don’t envision you as the type of woman who cares so much about propriety.”
She stopped walking and stared at him. “I cannot believe you said that about me!”
“Indeed. Most women your age would never be seen in public wearing their hair down. Only a woman’s husband should see her hair unbound and flowing down her back.”
Heat instantly burned across her cheeks. “I have no maid to assist me with my hair.”
“Ahh,” he said, looking up at the blue sky. “Lack of funds. Still, I cannot believe it’s all that difficult to put your hair up into a chignon. A few twists and pins should do it.”
Her jaw tightened in frustration. But there was nothing she could say in her defense. There was no reason for not putting up her hair, except that she liked it down. “The pull of my hair gives me headaches. Something a man would never understand.”
He nodded. “I see.”
She did wonder why he hadn’t mentioned their kiss last night. If nothing else, he should offer her an apology. A proper gentleman would do that, she reasoned.
“I need to continue on,” she said.
“May I walk with you?”
“I cannot stop you from walking your lands, Your Grace.” Perhaps he needed time to determine the best way to say he was sorry.
“I suppose I should speak with both Mr. and Mrs. Wells,” he said stiffly.
“Very well, then.” Selina moved forward and he kept pace with his horse trailing behind.
After a few minutes of silence, he finally asked, “Why do you do this?”
“Do what?”
“Care for the sick, deliver the babies and everything else you do.”
“Who else will?” She cast him a sideways glance, noting the way his coat cut across his broad shoulders.
“A physician, perhaps?” he offered.
Selina laughed. “The only physician is in the village and he’s a drunken sod. I wouldn’t let him touch a soul on this property.”
“But why you?”
“Because I am of the same blood as my mother and her mother before her. This is what we do and have done for centuries.”
Bewitching the Duke Page 7