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Chapter Six
As the Duke told her of what he’d discovered, Selina listened with interest. It seemed that deserters from the regiment had ambushed Lord and Lady Morton!
“Do you believe that they’re trying to escape to Scotland?” she asked.
“Perhaps,” he replied. “Or toward the continent, if to the South.”
“What intrigue!” she murmured, her mind spinning a little. It was a bit like a novel—Lord and Lady Morton’s daring escape after a brush with evil men.
“Are you actually not frightened, at all, My Lady?”
“Not even close, Your Grace,” she replied. “I never go out unaccompanied. I remain on the estate when I take my walks, and I don’t lose sight of the house. It’s about being smart. Not taking unnecessary risks. However, I refuse to remain indoors, closeted like an anchorite.”
“That’s very admirable, My Lady.” He was looking at her in that way, again. Like she was some kind of a miracle. She didn’t want to lose her mind over it. Gentlemen had a way of seeing her as much better than she was.
When they arrived at Kirby Hall, Mr. Wickes met them at the front door, as one of the grooms took the Duke’s horse to the stables.
“Your Grace, Lady Selina,” Mr. Wickes said. “Will you both be taking tea with Lady Kirby and Lady Leah?”
“I thought they were headed to visit Lady Morton,” Selina said, feeling nervous. Here, she had sat out on the overlook, as though unobserved, since everyone except her uncle would be away from Kirby Hall.
“No, My Lady,” Mr. Wickes said. “I believe they’re going on the morrow.”
Selina nodded. “I must go upstairs and change first. I believe that the Duke is here to see Uncle Latimer.”
“I am, in fact, here to see Lord Kirby,” the Duke confirmed, suddenly all business.
“Goodbye, Your Grace,” Selina said, curtsying. “Thank you for making sure that we returned home safely.”
“It was my pleasure, My Lady,” he replied, bowing, “and Miss Faith.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Faith said, curtsying.
Selina and Faith walked up the stairs, while Mr. Wickes led the Duke of Gillingham off toward Uncle Latimer’s study. Selina walked briskly down the hallway, Faith a step behind her. She was dying to know Faith’s thoughts on all that had occurred.
It was silent in the hallway, and the thick runner carpet muffled their footsteps. Selina ignored the stares of her uncle’s ancestors from their hallowed frames.
Opening the door to her room, she pulled off her bonnet, tugging at the ribbon. As soon as Faith had shut the door, Selina turned to her.
“So, Faith, I’d like to know your opinion on the Duke.”
“He talks a lot, My Lady,” Faith replied, always the keen observer of gentlemen. Selina always found her opinion invaluable—gentlemen often overlooked her, while she saw them quite clearly. “His Grace says a lot of bold things. Not that the gentlemen never say bold things to you, My Lady, but he’s practically a married gentleman.”
“That was bothering me, too, Faith.”
“Are you going to go tomorrow, My Lady?” Faith whispered.
Selina thought for a very long moment. She found that she wanted to go, despite her reservations—and it wasn’t because he was handsome, or that he protested to want to love her. It was because she found herself feeling the same. “God help me; I think I will, Faith.”
Their eyes met. Faith nodded. “All right, My Lady.”
“Not a word, to anyone, Faith.” Selina set her bonnet aside.
“Your secrets are always safe with me, My Lady.”
Selina smiled, taking a seat at the dressing table. “Thank you, Faith.” In the mirror, her face was flushed. She knew that it was more than just her exertions outside that made her so crimson.
“If I may say, My Lady—he hasn’t broken the engagement,” Faith said, standing behind her, and pulling out the pins that held her hair back. It fell in blonde waves over her shoulders.
