“You mean to tell me you have been reading all this time? With the way you jumped, I thought we had caught you writing a love letter to a secret suitor.” Fiona grinned, perching on the edge of the table.
Harriet was very aware of the redness of her cheeks, but could not think of anything to say. The truth was even more embarrassing than the lie.
“You do have the look of a naughty schoolgirl.” Catherine smiled and nudged Fiona with an elbow. “Perhaps she has been reading something rather scandalous.”
“I have not.” Harriet wished that the ground would open up and swallow her whole. She held up the book in her hand to prove it, but not before she tucked the drawing into a secret pocket in her dress.
“That is a children’s book.” Fiona frowned. “Why on Earth were you reading that?”
“The illustrations, they are rather beautiful.” Harriet lied, hoping that being caught reading a children’s book would make her friends think that was the reason for her embarrassment. “I was looking through them, that is all and I got a little lost in doing so.”
“Clearly.” Catherine shook her head, frowning at the book. “Though the binding does not look like one of ours – where did you find this?”
Harriet gestured to the bookshelf. “Over there.”
Catherine’s face fell. “Ah. Those are the borrowed books. I try to keep them separated from the rest of the collection – we tend to loan more than we borrow, but it is a rather nice way to foster good relations with theton.”
“Do you know who this belongs to?” Harriet forced herself not to swallow, even as her fingers twitched.
“It should say in the front cover. The houses usually stamp their mark upon it.” Catherine waved her hands towards the book. “Occasionally it is only a family crest rather than an estate name, but for the most part people list a name and estate.”
Harriet flipped open the book, hoping that Catherine would not notice her trembling fingers. Inside was a coat of arms she did not recognize, and the words “Duchy of Irondale, Irondale Hall.”
“Irondale?” Fiona wrinkled her nose and Harriet looked up at her. “Now that is surprising.”
Catherine gestured towards a map on the wall. “Why? The estate is rather close.”
Harriet saw that she was right, the estate was a little to the east of Catherine’s.It would be less than half a day’s ride, maybe less depending on the horse.The thought caught her off guard.
“I take it you have never met the Duke?” Fiona arched an eyebrow at Catherine, arms folded over her chest.
Harriet felt a prickle of unease stir in her at the tone of Fiona’s voice. Suspicion, disdain. She wondered if the two had ever met – after all, Fiona’s brothers frequently introduced her to important men.
“I do not think so. Have you?” Catherine’s lips pursed.
“Not personally – but Phillip was at Eton with him.” Fiona explained. “From everything he has ever told me of him, the man is cold, arrogant, a positive snob. Refused to speak to anyone – and Phillip is heir to the duchy so they were of equal rank – and if he did, it was always perfunctory. Transactional. There were no questions with him, only orders.”
Find me.The folded paper in Harriet’s pocket felt like a brand, burning against her skin. That sort of man would leave an order, but she could not see why he would care about her art.
“And of course, his reputation is not helped by the fact that very few people have seen the man, especially in recent years.” Fiona continued. “He is not the sort of man I would imagine reads children’s books. From all I have heard, he is cold, proper and exacting.”
Harriet realized she was about to bite her bottom lip, and forced herself not to. “I suppose it might belong to someone else in his house – perhaps his wife?”
“He is a bachelor.” Fiona replied. “A fact that only adds to his intrigue, of course.”
Harriet felt a tension ease across her shoulders she had not even realized was there. It made her frown.
“Then that is probably why he is not seen in public. An unmarried duke is like a magnet, drawing every woman and her mother to him.” Catherine shook her head.
“Perhaps. It hardly matters. Why are we gossiping when we could be dancing?” Fiona nodded towards the door. “Come on Hettie, you have hidden long enough. It is high time you enjoyed yourself.”
Fiona tugged the book out of Harriet’s hands and placed it on the shelf. She wanted to reach for it, felt her fingers flexing and instead clenched them into a fist.
Do I really want to meet a man like that?
The fantasy was one thing, but what would going to find a recluse achieve? Her fingers brushed against the paper in her pocket.
Find me.
