Chapter Fifteen
Afootman wassoon to arrive to take William to the stables. The boy was so excited at the prospect of a new riding instructor, Jenny had to urge him to eat his breakfast.
“He’ll let me canter, and maybe even gallop,” he stated with great confidence as she did up his coat buttons.
She smoothed back his dark hair, so like his father’s, and put on his hat. “Do you think so?” William had yet to meet the severe-looking Mr. Irvine.
“But I’d rather ride with you, Jenny,” William added quickly.
“My, but you are going to be a charmer when you’re grown, my lord,” she said with a smile. “Even though I don’t permit you to canter?”
“Well you did once, Jenny.”
How could she forget that frightening day as they raced away through the woods?
Someone knocked. Three taps, a pause, and then one more. The secret signal she and the footmen had concocted between them.
“It’s Jeremy.” She opened the door. But it was Gerald, a footman who seldom ventured into this wing of the house. “I am here to take his lordship down, Miss Harrismith.”
“Where is Jeremy?”
“He is on another errand. He gave me the signal.”
“Will you wait, please, Gerald?” Jenny closed the door. “Barbara, come here and I’ll put on your bonnet. We will walk down with William to the stables. It’s a little early, but you can play with the gray cat until your father arrives.”
Barbara needed little encouragement, she rushed to give Carrot a smothering goodbye hug as the kitten lay in its basket.
Gerald walked down with them, then bowed and left them at the stables where Mr. Irvine stood waiting with two saddled horses. One was the gray mare, Lavender, William was usually assigned.
At the thunderous expression on William’s face, Jenny had to admit she was relieved not to have to wrestle with him. He had set his heart on riding a big gelding. But one glance at William’s new riding companion told her that he would handle William without difficulty.
The two rode away. Before they disappeared into the trees, William glanced back with a sulky expression which brightened as he looked past her.
Jenny turned to find the duke walking into the yard. She drew in a breath. He wore a double-breasted indigo blue waisted coat, that fitted his narrow waist and broad shoulders, his breeches of pale leather clinging to strong thighs. His top boots polished to a high shine, he carried a crop and black hat in gloved hands.
“I’m afraid Lord William is a trifle disappointed, Your Grace,” she said with a faint smile as Barbara came to deposit the gray cat at her feet.
“Look Father, isn’t she sweet?”
“Yes, Barbara.” The duke nodded to Jenny. “I told Irvine to allow William a canter once they were clear of the wood.”
“Oh, he will be thrilled!”
When his glance swept over her, her hand went to her brooch, recalling the previous evening when he’d found her inappropriately dressed. “Lavender won’t get up much speed,” he said. “I see no harm in it in any event. William handles the horse well. If, that is, he’s watched closely and isn’t left to his own devices, and decides to jump a fence.”
She nodded, disconcerted. She was pleased for William, but something about the duke today made her pulse race, perhaps it was how handsome he looked, or was it how he looked at her?
“Father, can I take this cat to the nursery? She misses Carrot,” Barbara said, breaching the silence that had settled between them, and saving Jenny from uttering an inane comment about the weather, the only thing she could think of. The duke’s presence had an absurd effect on her today.
“Put down the cat, Barbara,” he said. “One is quite enough in the nursery.” His Grace held out his hand to his daughter, his eyes twinkling. “One too many you might say,” he said as an aside to Jenny, then gave her the benefit of his devastating smile she saw so rarely. “Look Barbara, here is your pony.”
Barbara released her father’s hand as Jem emerged from the stable leading the small piebald and skipped toward him, but her father, in two quick strides, took hold of her hand again.
Jenny enjoyed the tender sight of him lifting his small daughter onto the saddle while the groom held the pony’s bridle. She turned to leave.
“Miss Harrismith?”
“Yes, Your Grace?”
