Keaton raised his brows. “No, I do not believe so. It was conjured from my imagination. It is intended to be a paragon of female beauty. An unattainable perfection.”
“Then this next part may sound insufferably arrogant,” Georgia added with an awkward chuckle, “but I think it is me.”
CHAPTER 16
“Rutherford! Rutherford!” Keaton barked.
“Yes, Your Grace,” the tall butler answered from the doorway with his usual grace and patience.
“Where is she?” Keaton demanded. “The clock chimed the hour and now the half hour. Is she ready?”
“I have sent a maid to check, Your Grace, and...”
He cut off, and Keaton heard someone else enter the room. Heard whispering as that person relayed their information, then departed.
“I do not need my own staff keeping secrets. Out with it, man!” Keaton barked irritably.
“I am informed that Her Grace has not yet returned,” Rutherford imparted.
“Returned? She is not here?”
“No, Your Grace.”
“Where has she gone?”
Rutherford hesitated. “I do not know, Your Grace. She took the trap earlier this morning.”
“And informed you she was taking it where?” Keaton pressed, his voice rising.
“I… was not informed of her intention to take it, nor the act itself.”
Keaton growled. “Someone must have known, Rutherford. One does not simply take a horse and trap from my stables without notice!”
He had been in the act of binding his cravat. Now he wrenched it from his neck and tossed it aside. The pin with its obsidian stone made a sharp clatter as it struck against something equally hard, terminating its flight.
“I believe the horse was bridled by Lawson in the stables, Your Grace,” Rutherford said, reluctance heavy in his voice.
“Sack him!” Keaton roared.
“Your Grace! No!” Rutherford was shocked to speak so plainly to his master.
“No?” Keaton whispered.
He stood stock still because he didn’t trust himself to be able to target Rutherford and walk to him accurately. His anger was clouding his spatial perception and his memory of the room. Instead, he clasped his hands behind his back, knuckles cracking with the force.
“Your Grace, the boy has done nothing wrong other than obey the orders of the Duchess…”
“She isnotthe Duchess.”
“Your Grace, we were not to know that. There was a wedding. There were no standing orders given to me that Her Grace’s orders, or if you insist, Miss Roseton’s orders, were not to be carried out as your own would be.”
“Then it is yourself who has been remiss. You should have asked for such orders or taken them upon your own initiative.” Keaton turned away.
“Am I to be sacked then, Your Grace?” Rutherford questioned.
His response walked a fine line over a chasm of insolence. Only the butler and housekeeper would be permitted to even approach such a question, phrased in such a way and delivered in such a tone.
“If you do not change your ideas, then I might,” Keaton said sharply, “now leave.”
