She forced a smile. “Thank you, my lord. You are exceptionally kind.”
“It’s not kindness, my lady. I merely speak the truth.” He gestured toward the sofa. “Shall we sit for a while?”
“Of course.”
Passing him, Gabriella lowered herself to the plush silk brocade and swept her legs to one side, a position that would ensure a perfect drape of her gown. She then folded her hands in her lap and waited for Fielding to sit down next to her, albeit with an arm’s length between them.
“I hear that the heir to the Huntley title has been found,” Fielding said.
He maintained the same pose as usual—a glaring contrast to the way in which Huntley had casually lounged in his chair when he’d welcomed her for tea in his library. And then of course there were the physical differences to consider. Fielding was slim and roughly the same height as she, while Huntley . . . his bearing spoke of pure strength and power. And when he stood, he forced her to look up at him. There was something about that gesture that demanded respect, even if he was rough around the edges and spoke as though he’d just climbed out of a coal mine.
“My lady?”
Startled by Fielding’s voice, Gabriella blinked. “I beg your pardon.” She could feel her cheeks grow warm beneath his gaze. The flush of a guilty woman. “Yes. Yes, it would seem that he has.”
“Well? Have you met him yet? I would love to hear your impression.”
Swallowing, Gabriella instinctively glanced at the clock. It appeared to be moving with infernal slowness. “I—err . . .” She couldn’t lie, could she? Probably not. “Do you recall the man we met on the pavement the other day when we were returning from our drive?”
His frown deepened. “The servant?”
“Yes—well,” she steeled herself, “as it turns out, that was the duke.”
The silence that followed could only be described as loud—so loud it seemed to fill every corner of the room, burrowing its way beneath tables and chairs and climbing the walls until it dripped from the ceiling.
“Surely, you jest,” Fielding finally murmured. He shook his head. “That man was a peasant. The way he spoke—it cannot be. It simply cannot!”
“And yet it is. Quite so.”
Rising, he began to pace. “Do you have any idea what a mess this is?”
“Some.”
He came to a halt before her. “No, you do not seem to understand. Mother has invited him for dinner next Friday at Fielding House. The invitations have already been sent out.”
“Then . . . then you must call it off,” Gabriella insisted. “Find an excuse. Any excuse. Please.”
“But—” He met her gaze, and Gabriella’s heart sank. “Several peers have already accepted. Cancelling is out of the question.”
“Right.” Her mind began to whirl with ideas. “Perhaps I can talk to the duke then. I’ll advise him to decline.”
Fielding remained silent for a moment as though considering such a solution. “No,” he eventually said. “Let him make his own decision.”
“But—”
“If he’s not up to it, then he’s not up to it. But Society deserves to know who the new Duke of Huntley is, don’t you think?”
“What I think, is that he ought to be prepared for what to expect. A dinner at Fielding House is no small matter.”
“Precisely. And as the new Duke of Huntley, he must be capable of keeping proper company. If he’s not, then perhaps he ought to return to wherever it is he came from.”
Gabriella stiffened. “That’s rather harsh.”
“Perhaps.” Returning to his seat, he enfolded her hand with his. “But there is a difference of class for a reason. In my opinion, people ought to stay where they belong, rather than try to break rank. It helps ensure a certain order, which in turn keeps the world spinning in the right direction.” Giving her a bland smile, he stood up again. “Now, if you will excuse me, I really must be off. Mother will be beside herself when she hears this news. The least I can do is to help her prepare.”
“Right. Yes, of course.” Ignoring the numbness that filled every limb, Gabriella rose to her feet, bid Fielding a good day and then stood for a long moment after, reflecting on their conversation.
The chiming of a clock eventually jolted her into action. “Simmons,” she called, addressing the butler as she snatched her spencer off a hook on the hallway wall, “if anyone asks, you may tell them that I have gone out.”
