“I told you. It is fate. And it certainly came knocking rather quickly, did it not? We only spoke about a few days ago and here it is now in all its glory.”
She threw a glare at her friend. “Please do not jest, Betsy.How am I to get through it?” Betsy patted Rowena’s back.
“Same way you get through everything else, my friend. You put on a smile; make conversation and you act as you always do. And then you see what will happen. There must be a reason he’s crossing your path again. You said so yourself.”
“I feel as though I am being tested,” Rowena complained.
“Even so, perhaps it is good for you to be tested. You do not want to enter into a marriage unless you are certain.”
“You know as well as, I do not have a say in it.”
“Neither do you have a say in fate. Sometimes we are presented with circumstances in life that are out of our control. I thought my life would be very different until my parents perished. When I was a child, I did not expect to be a governess for somebody. I was certain I would be married off to a merchant by my Father. Fate had another plan.”
“I wish I knew what it was,” Rowena said, feeling miserable. The thought of seeing him turned her stomach into knots.
* * *
The two spent the next hour getting ready for dinner. Rowena selected a periwinkle-colored round dress, with a pale-yellow spencer. It was proper and something a betrothed woman would wear, not a girl in the market for a husband. She hoped to make a statement with it.
There was a knock on the door, and a moment later Catherine entered. There was a big grin upon her face.
“They have arrived, the Duke and his brother. You would never believe it, but Mister Newmont carried with him a book! A book! To a dinner engagement.” She shook her head as though it was the silliest thing she’d ever seen. “At least His Grace had the good sense to bring a proper gift. A case of wine from his winery.”
Her sister spun her legs in an excited manner as she sat on the bed. “He’s quite dashing, isn’t he? Row, you danced with him as well at the ball. Did you not think he was quite the catch?”
Rowena found herself sweating. This was not a situation she ever imagined finding herself in. Not only did she have feelings for a man who was not to be her husband, now her own sister had her eyes set on him as well.
Fortunately, she was safe from having to answer by the ringing of the dinner bell.
Catherine rushed out of the door, unable to contain her excitement at the prospect of dinner with the Duke.
Rowena pushed herself off the bed with force, but found her spirits faltering at the prospect of what lay ahead.
Betsy made her way to her friend’s side and rubbed her back. “Let us see what fate has in store for you, shall we?”
She gently nudged Rowena forward. With each step she found herself pondering about this odd duality of feelings inside of her. On the one hand, she dreaded going downstairs to see him again. On the other, her heart called out to be near him.
At the foot of the stairs, she inhaled fully to fill her lungs and braced herself for what would certainly be an unforgettable dinner.
Chapter 15
Christopher and Henry were seated in the drawing room on the plush, white, velvet-covered chaise lounge, while the Earl had taken a seat in the armchair by the fire. Christopher found his hands grow clammy at the prospect of seeing Lady Rowena in a few short moments.
Henry, to his relief, appeared to be in a chipper mood today and quickly involved the Earl in a spirited conversation about the future of their joint venture. Henry, as adverse as he was to participating in social events, reveled in details when it came to their vineyard and the production of Summerwind Wines. While Christopher made the connections, Henry made the actual business run smoothly.
As different as we are, we make a great team. Yes, together we will rebuild all we lost.
While his brother engaged the Earl, Christopher glanced around the room. The feminine touches typical of a London drawing room were unmistakable and reminded him of the drawing room at Havisham House. Lady Hazelshire, it seemed, shared his mother’s liking of white and gold decor. The walls were painting in a gleaming white, with the accents mostly gold.
The large French window which overlooked Charles Street was framed with golden drapes. Two carefully painted golden bureaus with white handles were positioned on either side of the window. Scattered through the room, in a manner which encouraged socializing and conversation, were golden chairs with rose-colored cushions. The theme extended throughout the room. A gold-framed mirror hung above the white-marble fireplace around which the men were currently seated. Even the handles and décor around the fireplace door was in gold, set against amber.
Catching his gaze, the Earl grinned. “Admiring Lady Hazelshire’s handwork I see.”
“Indeed, My Lord. It is very similar to that of my dear Mother, is it not, Henry?”
His brother nodded, a sudden solemn expression on his face.
“I noticed it too. Lady Hazelshire would have been ever so comfortable at Havisham House.”
