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At least that would stop. Titus was certain he’d successfully prevented Haywood from bothering her again. He’d pen a note to his stepmother as soon as he returned home and assure her of that fact.
Then he ought to visit his mistress. He still hadn’t been to see her since that first night. He’d much rather visit Nora and ensure she was all right after her encounter with Haywood, but he wouldn’t do that either. No, he’d do what he’d done every night the past week—he’d go home alone and dream of an auburn-haired beauty with enchanting tawny eyes.
He had to accept that he was far more interested in Nora than he ought to be. This changed nothing, however. He wasn’t looking for a wife, and if he were, she would never want him once she learned the truth about the past. It was past time he quashed his inconvenient attraction.
Chapter Eight
When Nora came down to dinner the following evening, she stopped short in the doorway. Kendal stood near the table, talking to Lord Satterfield. He looked terribly handsome, dressed in an impeccable dark blue coat and pantaloons that had to be the absolute latest in the style of men’s garments. They hugged his thighs, presenting an exceptional portrait of a virile gentleman.
“Kendal, you’ve come for dinner!” Lady Satterfield’s exclamation came from just behind Nora.
Both men turned to look at the doorway, and Nora fought to keep a blush from staining her cheeks. They could have no idea that she’d been standing there gaping at Kendal. Lady Satterfield, on the other hand, might very well have caught her in the act.
Nora moved into the dining room along with Lady Satterfield, who went to her stepson. Kendal bussed her cheek in greeting. “I hope it’s no trouble that I’ve come.”
“Never. I see your place has already been set,” she said. “Let us sit. Harley looks ready to serve.”
Satterfield always sat at the head, with his wife at his right and Nora on his left. Tonight there were two seats on the left, which meant she’d be sitting next to Kendal.
While Satterfield held his wife’s chair, Kendal performed the same service for Nora.
“Thank you,” she murmured, feeling unaccountably nervous.
The first course, including soup, boiled beef, and carrots was served, and wine was poured. Nora had been overwhelmed by the wealth of food since her arrival at the Satterfields, but was beginning to grow accustomed to it. It wasn’t that she and her father had gone hungry, but they’d led a very simple life.
“The weather has been exceptional,” Satterfield said. “Did you ride today, Kendal?”
“I did.” He looked at Nora. “Do you ride?”
“Not well. My cousins—they sponsored my first Seasons—introduced me to it, but I never mastered the sport, I’m afraid.”
“We shall have to rectify that,” Lady Satterfield said. “I can picture you in a cunning riding hat. We shall have to shop for a habit.”
Kendal chuckled as he flashed his stepmother a look. “And what of the horse? She’ll need something to ride.”
“We have a horse.” She looked at her husband. “Don’t we, dear?”
“Not one that is suitable for Nora. However, I’m certain Kendal has an appropriate mount.” He sent a questioning look at the duke.
Before Kendal could respond, Lady Satterfield interjected. “I just remembered that Mrs. Gilchrist invited us to ride at their house outside town.” She looked at Nora. “Would you feel comfortable doing that?”
Nora had met Mrs. Gilchrist and her son Mr. Barnaby Gilchrist yesterday at the picnic. She’d taken a walk with Mr. Gilchrist, and he’d talked mostly of horses. And fish. She’d enjoyed her time with Mr. Dawson more. But then neither could compare to Kendal.
She stole a quick glance in his direction. His dark hair brushed the top of the white collar at the back of his head. The contrast was striking, especially when compared with the warm bronze of his skin. He was clean-shaven, but she could detect the dark shadow beginning to creep over his jaw. She looked away quickly, lest he catch her.
“Nora?”
Lady Satterfield’s query reminded her that she’d forgotten to answer. “I think I’d prefer to wait to ride in public until I’ve mastered at least a few practice walks.”
“Kendal, do let us know when you can take her for a ride,” Lady Satterfield said.
The duke looked at Nora, and the impact of his gaze curled her toes. Goodness, she was as fervent as she’d been in her youth. Had she learned nothing? Resolved to ignore her attraction to the duke, she focused on her meal and tried to think of Mr. Dawson, who likely wouldn’t care if she could ride or not.
“Kendal, how are your stables at Lakemoor?” Satterfield asked. “We didn’t venture up for a visit this past fall. I shall make it a priority this year. You put on quite a hunt.”
Nora peeked over at him. Did he host a hunting party? She was surprised, given his reputation. She didn’t think he socialized at all.
“It’s a small affair, if you recall.”
