Page 15 of A Highland Duke to Claim Her Heart

“Oh, no, it is only…” Cassandra trailed off, unsure of how much she should say. Then again, Miss Ashworth was Annabelle’s nanny, and a close enough friend of the family that she dined with them. It was possible she already knew.

“Well, Lord Christopher… He has gone to the Continent,” she said at last. “The duke told us last night that he does not know where his brother is or when he will return.”

Miss Ashworth let out a long sigh and shook her head. “My goodness,” she murmured. “I was afraid it was something like that. We were all worried, you know, when he did not arrive at the castle when he was supposed to. But even I did not think him capable of something so foolish…”

The two women fell into step next to one another. They were about the same age, Cassandra noted, although perhaps MissAshworth was a few years her senior, and she had all the bearings of a noblewoman. She wondered, suddenly, how she had ended up working as a governess.

“Is Lord Christopher always so impulsive?” she asked.

“He was always the wild one of the two,” Miss Ashworth said. “I grew up close by, and our fathers were friends until mine fell on hard times. One might say that Lord Christopher got all the charm and recklessness, the duke all the responsibility and caution. I think, sometimes, that if you were to combine them, you would make the perfect man.”

Cassandra nodded slowly. “Do you think Lord Christopher will return?” she asked. “Or do you think he intends to…”

“Abandon you?”

“Yes.”

“I do not know.” Miss Ashworth stopped and took her hand, squeezing it. “But I know that if Lord Christopher does, the duke will make things right with you and your family. He will not allow scandal to touch you. He will ensure that his brother takes the blame. He is a good man like that, even if he is…”

“Even if he is what?” Cassandra pressed, when Miss Ashwroth trailed off.

Miss Ashworth smiled tightly. “Well, he is just distant, that is all. Ever since the death of his wife, he has seemed to build a wall around himself that no one can break down. Not even Alaric. Mr. Greybourne, I mean,” she added quickly, flushing slightly.

Cassandra said nothing, but she made note of this as she and Miss Ashworth kept walking. She had noticed the way the two of them had spoken to each other the previous night at dinner. Mr. Greybourne had been very attentive to Miss Ashworth, and she had blushed often when he spoke to her.

They continued walking together for another few moments, then Miss Ashworth stopped in front of a stall that was selling ribbons.

“These are beautiful,” she murmured, touching a purple ribbon. “Annabelle would love this. Violet is her favorite color. It reminds her of the heather on the mountains.”

Cassandra touched the ribbon as well, an idea occurring to her. “I shall buy her a length of it,” she said. “As a way of saying thank you for welcoming me into her home.”

“Oh, that is a lovely idea, Lady Cassandra!” Miss Ashworth cried. “She will love that!”

“You must call me Cassandra, please,” Cassandra said, and Lillian beamed at her.

“As long as you call me Lillian.”

Cassandra felt something warm settle in her chest. Were she and Lillian becoming friends? It was such a lovely thought. In London, it had been so difficult to make friends. All the young debutantes were competitive with one another, forced to be so by their mamas. But as she bought the ribbon and had it wrapped in brown paper, Cassandra got the feeling that she and Lillian might just have a chance to become real friends.

Unless, of course, Lord Christopher never returned.

The two ladies were about halfway back to Calder Castle when a horse overtook them, and they looked up to see Mr. Greybourne atop a grey mare. When he saw them, he raised his hand in greeting, slowed the horse, and dismounted.

“Good morning, ladies,” he said, bowing low, his eyes lingering longer on Lillian than on Cassandra. “Were you at the market this morning?”

“We were indeed,” Cassandra said, subtly positioning herself so that Mr. Greybourne was between her and Lillian.

“Lady Cassandra picked out some beautiful ribbon for Annabelle,” Lillian said, smiling shyly at Mr. Greybourne. “I think she will be very happy with the gift.”

“That is very thoughtful indeed, Lady Cassandra,” he said, nodding at Cassandra before turning back to Lillian.

“Oh, careful, Miss Ashworth,” he said quickly, putting out a hand to stop her as she made to step right into a muddy patch of road. “Here, allow me.”

Taking her arm, he helped her around the mud, and Cassandra saw her new friend’s cheeks flush with pleasure and embarrassment.

At the same time, Cassandra couldn’t help but feel a small flicker of envy and sadness in her chest.

Will Lord Christopher ever make me blush like that?