Page 42 of Manufacturing a Duchess

It was most decidedly odd. Her cool beauty still declared itself his, well, an ideal of what a duchess should look like. In truth, however, that was as far as it went. This realization caught him by surprise. Instead, he was aware of a quiet warmth, deep in his belly, when he caught a glimpse of Miss Hardcastle’s eyes. Nothing heart-pounding about it; nothing in the least romantic, to be sure. It was altogether rather prosaic. Yes, that was it. Prosaic. Except, perhaps when they were dancing. And that day at Hampton Court. And when she had laid out their terms for marriage…No, no, this was all about vulgar business and not sentiment. Yet he was sure of one thing. He did not want those blue eyes looking directly into his. Except that he did. It was a strong enough pull, that he almost rode over to the carriage’s window again, to see if she would meet his eyes. Yes, deucedly odd.

He looked over at Finn, who felt his glance and turned and gave Alec a wry grin. His cousin made a gesture with his head, indicating a stopping place would be coming up soon. Thank God! Or not thank God. Then there would be the need for social pleasantries and conversation. Where is your head, man? He did not know when he had ever been quite so discomposed.

He let his mind drift back to the day after the proposal. He had sent his note to Miss Hardcastle and then held a brief conversation with Lord Wentworth to set the dates of their travel. He had the distinct impression milord had received precise instructions from that household’s general, and Alec was suitably impressed they would be prepared to leave within the next three days. Of course, Lady Wentworth wished to get the business with Miss Hardcastle over as soon as possible and return to London to ensure she could then settle her own daughter.

Naturally, the Wentworths would travel with Aurora to provide the requisite chaperonage, but Lord Wentworth also made it clear Miss Wentworth would be coming along as well. The way she kept fluttering her lashes at him; his daughter’s discomfort with the woman— He definitely needed some form of protection or shield or, damnation, someone to have his back to ensure this all went smoothly. He was therefore pleased by Lord W.’s not-too-subtle suggestion that mayhap the Duke of Galloway might join them on their expedition? Alec did not let his relief show, however, and made no promises as he bowed himself out of their townhouse that day. But all had been neatly sorted with Finn, and he had his shield man at hand.

And here Alec was, back to the present moment. With an inn appearing in the distance.

Time to set his mental ramblings aside and become sociable while they took a rest and stretched their legs. Truth to tell, he was getting rather hungry. Time to face the Incomparable. And Miss H. Could he manage to avoid them both?

Thirty-Three

Aurora would remember that carriage ride for the rest of her life. It seemed the longest three days she had ever endured. Even her future trips to the Continent that went on for weeks and months would never feel as lengthy. At last, the landmarks became familiar, and she spent the final couple of hours pointing out favorites to Marjorie, who eagerly peered in whatever direction Aurora was indicating and looked with concentration, as if the little girl would memorize each one.

Their party was clearly expected, because, as they pulled up the long drive and around the circular courtyard directly facing the front steps, the entire household was lined up for a formal greeting. Aurora could scarcely contain herself. She itched to shake off the footman’s careful hand to bound out of the carriage and up the steps to her parents waiting at the top. Nevertheless, she did manage to hold herself back. These last few weeks had taught her a great deal.

She allowed herself to be helped down, reached up behind her to assist Marjorie, and then stepped away to permit Missie and Lady Wentworth to descend. Holding Marjorie’s hand, she greeted the servants lined up to meet them, introducing Marjorie to them one at a time. The young girl gave a curtsy to each and consented to have Aurora’s old nurse chuck her under the chin and call her a complete and utter duckling.

When she finally reached her parents at the top, however, she froze. They were not the same people she had left. Her father looked shrunken, his face white and his hand shaking on a cane which was also supporting him. Her mother’s face looked strained and careworn, and it was obvious the cane was not the only thing helping Mr. Hardcastle to stand erect. Aurora greeted them each with a curtsy and then gingerly stepped forward, first to her mother (a kiss on each cheek) and then a careful embrace of her father.

She was surprised to find her voice was able to come out steadily, without the inner quaking she was feeling. “Mama, Papa, this is Lady Marjorie. She is the Duke of Selkirk’s daughter.”

“Lady Marjorie,” replied Mrs. Hardcastle. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“And I you, ma’am,” replied Marjorie.

The look on her father’s face told Aurora now was not the time to discuss the drastic change she observed in him. Surmising his strength might be reaching its limit, she stepped back and introduced the other members of the party to her parents: Lord and Lady Wentworth, Missie, the Duke of Galloway, and then her affianced, the Duke of Selkirk.

“We are delighted to welcome you to our home. Please, you must be tired from your travels. Come inside and have some refreshment, and then I will have you all shown to your rooms. We plan to have a light supper sent up to you after, as I am quite sure you will wish to make an early night of it.” Mrs. Hardcastle finished her welcome, then turned and led the way back into the house, still supporting her husband. The visitors streamed in after her.

Aurora let them proceed ahead of her, taking a moment to breathe and slow down her whirling thoughts. Suddenly Alec was there, not saying anything but taking her hand and bringing it up to his lips. Their eyes met, and the sympathy in his almost caused hers to fill. “Shall we enter, Miss Hardcastle?” was all he said, however. And, so accompanied, Aurora Hardcastle stepped back into a home which felt foreign and strange. The steadiness of the arm underneath hers was a comfort, and she almost clung to it for a moment as they entered the drawing room.

* * *

The party was all safely stowed into their respective assigned rooms, resting, which left Aurora free to seek out her father. He had found refuge in his small office, as she expected. It had always served as his sancta sanctorum when he needed time and space to think, write, or handle his business affairs. The one change she spotted was that his regular chair had been replaced with one which allowed him to put his feet up and lean back. He was doing so when she scratched on the door and entered. He turned, saw who it was, and gave her a warm, sweet smile which pierced her heart. In a moment Aurora had thrown her arms around him and was holding onto him tightly.

“Oh, Papa, why didn’t you tell me?”

She felt her father’s arms come up and gently push her away. He searched her face and, whatever he was looking for, he seemed to find, for he smiled again. “Because I needed you to do this.”

“Do what? Find a husband? See London? None of that is important if you were ill!”

“Of course it was important, daughter. And especially because I am ill! My own medical training told me what was happening. Useful thing, that training. Once a physician, always a physician. During your absence, however, I was able to see a specialist and have my opinion seconded.

“Aurora—” He stopped and took a moment to compose himself. “I realize I am leaving you a very wealthy heiress.” The abruptness of this statement caused her to take a step back. “I wanted to be sure I could protect you as long as possible. That meant, I needed to be able to find the best potential husband for you now and get you situated so you were not left to a gaggle of fortune hunters. I also needed you to gain a little more of what you might be able to find in London, with guides like the Wentworths to see you were well-placed and liberated from our more provincial manners and style.”

“But, Papa!”

“Aurora, yes. Your mother and I discussed it. We knew you would not go if you realized something was wrong with me. I am sorry we lied by omission. It was necessary, goosey. Tell me truthfully: would you have gone?”

“No.”

“Exactly. I do know you, daughter. I know your heart, which is wide and deep. I know your mind, which is clear and filled with much useful and some not-exactly-useful knowledge.”

“Oh, Papa, that is not fair!”

Her father chuckled. It was an old argument between the two of them and, honestly, one he initiated even though she knew he agreed thoroughly with her rebuttal as he had been the one to introduce her to the books in his library. And teach her Greek. That moment, though, also broke some of the tension in the room, as she realized he had intended, and her shoulders relaxed.