He was convinced that had it not been for the masked woman, he would most certainly be disconcerted. Ella Winfield was the only woman of his acquaintance whom he found himself at all drawn to. There was strength about her that he found most appealing and, in their last couple of meetings, there was a somewhat unguarded sense of humour that made itself apparent now and then and found itself to be another point of attraction for the lonely Duke.
And then, of course, there was much else to recommend that young woman. She was clearly very bright, and whenever he spoke to her, he found himself fully engaged. And surely there was no man who found himself in her company who would not have noticed her beauty.
It was the sort of beauty that took a man by surprise, crept up on him almost without warning. Most of the beauty he saw around him was generally heralded by just a little too much effort.
So many young ladies relied on fine gowns and complicated adornments to announce their charms, rather than letting nature speak for them.
And Ella Winfield certainly did let nature speak for her. Despite being plain, her gowns always suited her very well. They were subtle and well-made, if not absolutely up-to-the-minute.
He suddenly thought of the haberdashery shop and how she had spoken of adding some lace to a gown she already possessed. Not only that, but he had felt her embarrassment when she had opened that little purse to reveal so very few coins; coins which she carefully counted out to pay for her purchase.
When he had followed her along to the tearooms, Rufus had wondered at her circumstances at Dandridge Hall. Did she not receive the full attention that her stepsisters did regarding everything she needed? Was it not an unusual thing for a young lady from a fine household such as that to even consider making some adjustment or other to a gown she already owned?
However, when he had finally sat down to take tea with her, Rufus had been so transported by her lively conversation and ready wit that he had forgotten all about it, to his shame.
As his carriage turned onto the driveway of the Dandridge estate, Rufus realised that thinking about Ella Winfield was the only thing that had finally stopped him thinking about the mysterious masked woman. He smiled to himself, thinking how strange it was that he had two women on his mind, and not one of them was on his list of suitable brides.
He could understand entirely dear Henry Mercer’s objection to any ideas of the masked woman as being suitable, given that she had sneaked her way into his home and made herself a guest at his ball. Where he found that exciting and amusing, Henry found it unseemly and inappropriate.
But he wondered what Henry would think of him perhaps adding Ella Winfield to his list. He laughed quietly as he wondered exactly what Miss Ella Winfield herself might think about it. She did not strike him as the sort of young woman who would be at all flattered to find herself one of a number of young ladies in the running for the Duke’s attention.
And the idea of that made him like her all the more.
“For goodness sake, Rufus.” He sighed quietly to himself. “As if life is not confusing enough, you are creating your own circles to run around inside.”
He had no sooner finished berating himself when he saw none other than Ella Winfield in the flesh. She was some distance from him, making her way into the vast woodland that surrounded the estate on all sides. She was wearing a plain and practical gown in a shade of pale green with a darker green velvet Spencer jacket over the top. With a bonnet of the same colour, he thought she looked very pretty, even from a distance.
Realizing that the sight of her outside undoubtedly meant that she would not be a feature of afternoon tea, he decided that he must at least have a few moments with her. He rapped loudly on the ceiling of the carriage once again, causing his beleaguered driver, who seemed barely recovered from the night before, to pull the horses to a halt.
“Just give me a minute, would you?” he called up to the man as he jumped down from the carriage and headed off into the woods.
They were still some distance from the hall itself, and he was certain that the carriage could not be seen from any of the windows on so winding and tree-lined a driveway.
He broke into a trot in the hope of meeting up with Miss Winfield somewhere nearby, and when she finally did see him, her mouth fell open in complete surprise.
“Your Grace?” she said and looked suddenly completely upended.
“Fear not, Miss Winfield, my carriage is quite hidden from the house,” he said a little breathlessly, somewhat more breathlessly than his little trot might have warranted. “You just caught my eye, and I thought I would have a few minutes with you, if I may.”
“Yes, of course,” she said and smiled at him, unable to stop looking over her shoulder.
“Miss Winfield, please do not worry. I would not have stopped if I thought there was any danger that you would be seen speaking with me.”
“Forgive me, it is just a habit.”
“I daresay I am not entirely surprised that you would feel that way,” he said and stared at her beautiful face.
Her beauty really had crept up on him; it really had taken him by surprise bit by bit. Perhaps the fact that she did not sport the adornments and distractions that other ladies sported had become of itself a distraction. Whatever the case, he found himself studying her at that moment in a way that he had not done before.
Her blue eyes were bright and wide and the clear, pale skin of her face was turned just a little pink from the exercise. She seemed to exude good health in a way he found most attractive. As he tried to search for something to say, Rufus realised that he had allowed his eyes to stray to the rest of her, taking in the fact that she was tall, but not too tall, and curvaceous, but not too curvaceous. All in all, she really was a very fine-looking, very beautiful young woman.
“You are on your way to tea, are you not?” she said as if to remind him of his reason for being at Dandridge in the first place.
“Yes, I am,” he said with a shrug. “It seems that the Earl cannot do without me.” He laughed.
“Well, you are very fine company, Your Grace. It is only natural.” She smiled, her eyes narrowing a little, and he quickly realised that she was teasing him again.
His masked woman aside, Rufus could not remember ever having been teased by a woman before. Perhaps it was that spirit which seemed to be drawing him to Ella almost as much as it had drawn him to his woman of mystery.
“I would thank you if I did not think you were in jest, Miss Winfield.” He laughed and was pleased to see her blue eyes seemed brighter still.
“I may have been teasing a little, Your Grace, but still I spoke the truth.” She inclined her head gracefully.
“I daresay I shall just have to accept what you say.”
“I do not see that you have any other option, Sir.” She laughed, and it was so spontaneous and unguarded that it gave him the most curious feeling of familiarity.
For a moment he could not think what to say in response and nurtured the feeling that there was something that he had forgotten, but something that he could not draw to mind however hard he might try. She stared at him quizzically, and he knew he must shake the feeling and continue.
“So, am I to take it that I will not have the pleasure of your company for afternoon tea?” he said, pleased that his tongue seemed to be working again.
“I am afraid not, Your Grace.”
“You have been denied the pleasure, I take it?” he said and found himself growing angry on her behalf.
What sort of a family could behave in such a way? How could the Earl be so single-minded in his pursuit for a good match for one of his daughters that he would be so openly rude?
“On this occasion, no,” she said, surprising him. “You must not take offence, Your Grace, but I excused myself from afternoon tea.”
“When you are invited to take it so rarely?” He knew he was staring at her intently, but he could not stop.
“Yes,” she said simply and cast her eyes down for a mom
ent.
“Miss Winfield, I truly hope that I have not done or said anything to offend you in any way,” he said, suddenly concerned that his continued prying into her personal circumstances had become too much for her.
“Not at all,” she answered and held out a small gloved hand. “No, you must not think that, Your Grace. It is not your company that I do not want; it is merely that I find it very hard to be in your company and my family’s company at the same time.”
“Are things really as bad as all that?”
“I think you must know from all that I have said so far that they are, Sir.” Her cheeks were pinker still, and he knew that she was embarrassed. “My stepfather grows more agitated with me by the day, and I cannot escape the feeling that he suspects me of trying to gain your attention, even though I know I have done no such thing.”
“And so, it is too fraught with anxiety for you to be able to enjoy it?”
“Yes, but only with my family in attendance. It is certainly not on your own account, Your Grace.”
“I thank you for your honesty.”
“And I thank you for your understanding, assuming that I have it.”
“You most certainly do have my understanding, Miss Winfield.” He bowed graciously. “And I am sure that you always shall.”
“That is not only very kind, Sir, but very reassuring.” She inclined her head to convey her gratitude.
She really was so dignified and curiously confident. He had not seen it at first, and why would he? When he had first happened upon her, she had just been thoroughly humiliated and was dreadfully upset.
No young lady, under those circumstances, would appear confident. But as each fortuitous meeting had taken place between them, he had seen her confidence shine through. It was a quiet confidence, something that came from deep within herself, not something that relied upon her status or apparel. It was a very definite sense of self, so definite that he could almost feel it. In many ways, she was becoming almost as exciting to him as his anonymous watcher.
“I must admit that I shall be very sorry not to have your company this afternoon, but I do not blame you for excusing yourself.”
“I thank you and, if you will forgive me again, I think you must leave me,” she said and cast her eyes through the trees in the direction of Dandridge Hall. “For my mother is aware that I am out in the grounds walking.”
“Then I shall take my leave of you, albeit unwillingly.” He smiled and laughed and was pleased when she did the same. “But I am promised to the Earl this afternoon, and as you know, he will have his way.”
“Then might I say rather you than me, Sir.”
“You are very content in your teasing of me, are you not?”
“Yes, but only because you respond to it so very well.”
“Then I am glad to give you satisfaction, Miss Winfield.” He laughed again, all the while feeling his attraction for her growing. “But I will do as you ask and leave you.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” She seemed relieved, and he was by no means insulted by it. “Do enjoy your afternoon.”
“And do enjoy your walk,” he said and bowed before smartly turning to make his way back to the carriage.
When he arrived in the drawing room at the hall, it was to find the Belville family pretending, as they always did, that they were fully engaged in other things and not expecting him at all. They were not the only family he called upon to engage in the peculiar custom, but they did it with such exaggeration as to be painfully obvious.
For one thing, he was certain that no young lady expecting a potential suitor for tea would be so fully engrossed in sewing at the moment that he was due to arrive. And for two of them to be engaged in such a way was quite ridiculous.
And then there was the dreadful Countess; sat there staring so blindly at a book that it might just as well have been upside-down for all she would have noticed. Ariadne Belville, despite always being an attentive hostess, was a woman to whom he knew he would never be warmly drawn.
Not only was she so obviously a social climber, a woman of ambition, but her casual treatment of her own dear daughter was something that Rufus would quietly never forgive. He felt sure that his own dear mother, one lost to him so early in life, could never have dreamed of treating her only child so badly.
As far as Rufus was concerned, any mother worthy of the title ought to fight for her child against anything, as a lioness would fight for one of her cubs. And, in Rufus’ opinion, Ella Winfield was certainly worth fighting for.
As he sat down to the usual run of boring conversation led almost entirely by the Earl, Rufus let his thoughts drift to Ella. As much as they seemed to be developing an easy friendship, and a very welcome one, he could not quite believe that she would have any romantic inclination towards him. Ordinarily, when a young lady had such an inclination, she was rather more tongue-tied and shy.
But Ella Winfield was none of those things, and so he could only conclude that she might only ever rely on him for a little friendship, not to mention his secrecy in its regard.
The only time he was drawn fully back into the room, forced to sit in that moment and not let his thoughts wander, was when the Earl had made what he obviously thought was a casual inquiry about the evening he had spent with the Earl of Mortcombe.
“I trust you had an enjoyable dinner, Your Grace?” the Earl said in a manner he obviously thought nonchalant.
“Yes, very enjoyable indeed, thank you, Dandridge,” Rufus said with a forced smile as he began to wonder at his host’s determined interest.
Of course, the Earl might have nothing to do with whatever incident might have befallen him and his driver had he not turned around, but his question so very early on in their conversation certainly made Rufus suspicious.
And yet the Earl had been forthright, even pushy, from the start. He no doubt realised that Mortcombe’s daughter stood as much chance of marrying the Duke of Hillington as either of his own daughters and so, perhaps, his curiosity was quite natural if a little obvious.
“Good, good,” the Earl said without a shred of sincerity. “Yes, a very fine family.” It was clear that he was at a loss as to what to say next, and Rufus was tempted to leave him hanging there in embarrassment.
“But it must be said, a household would have to go a very long way to provide a meal such as the one you provided the other night, Dandridge,” Rufus said with a smile he did not mean for a minute.
Anything to move the conversation along and get him out of Dandridge Hall at the earliest opportunity. Afternoon tea really was going to be too long and boring an affair without his secret friend there to at least provide him with the amusement of a surreptitious glance or two.
“More tea, Your Grace?”
“Yes indeed, Lady Dandridge,” Rufus said and silently resigned himself to his fate.
Chapter 23
“Afternoon tea went well, Your Grace?” Henry said after he had been quiet for so long that Rufus had almost forgotten that the man was in his study. “At Dandridge Hall, I mean,” he continued.
“Yes, it went well,” Rufus said without commitment.
“You do not seem terribly sure, Your Grace,” Henry ventured tentatively.
“I suppose I am still a little troubled at the family’s curious treatment of Miss Ella Winfield.”
“Oh yes, I remember you mentioning the young lady before,” Henry said, his face wrinkled in thought. “Is there something in particular which troubles you about it? I have made some polite inquiries, Your Grace, but can find nothing which ought to stand in the way of any future plans you might have at Dandridge.”
“No, I have not seen anything further; I suppose it is what I am aware of already that plays on my mind somewhat.”
“Plays on your mind?” Henry seemed a little upended. “Surely there is nothing so serious that it should play on your mind, Sir?”
“She is very much kept out of that family, and I can see no reason for it.”
�
�But how is she kept out, Your Grace?”
“Are you aware that she is not permitted to take her meals with the family?”
“Not permitted? Are you quite sure, Your Grace?”
“Oh yes, I am certain of it.”
“But surely the Earl would not be so bold as to admit to such a thing himself,” Henry seemed incredulous.
“No, he is not a man who would be so honest, I think.” Rufus gave a dismissive laugh. “No, the lady mentioned it herself.”
“Did she really? How extraordinary,” Henry said as if still not quite believing it.
Kind Ella and the Charming Duke_A Historical Regency Romance Page 19