Katherine smoothed her skirts and smiled brightly. “This shall be wonderful,” she declared, her eyes shining with anticipation.
“It had better be,” Lady Branson replied as she inspected her reflection in the glass. “I brought six new gowns, and I refuse to have packed them for nothing.”
The others laughed as the carriage door swung open.
Still smiling, Seraphine descended first. The journey had put her in unusually good spirits, and for the first time in weeks she felt almost carefree. Her attention remained fixed behind her as she stepped down from the carriage, which was precisely why she failed to notice someone standing directly in her path.
She collided with a hard, immovable surface. The impact startled a gasp from her lips. For one bewildered instant she thought she had walked into a stone pillar.
Then a strong hand closed firmly around her arm while another settled against her waist, steadying her before she could stumblebackwards. The world tilted alarmingly for a moment before righting itself.
Heat rushed to her cheeks. Mortified, she lifted her head. And found herself staring directly into a pair of cold green eyes. Her stomach dropped.
Oh no. Damien. The Duke of Wexford. Of course it would be him.
For a heartbeat she simply stared. He looked exactly as she remembered, tall, imposing, and entirely too handsome for a man who spent so much time looking disapproving. His dark coat fit his broad shoulders perfectly, and his expression revealed absolutely nothing.
“Careful,” he said, his deep voice calm as he steadied her fully before she could embarrass herself further.
The simple word sent an unwelcome flutter through her stomach.
Nerves,she told herself immediately.
Pure nerves and nothing more.
Anyone would feel unsettled after nearly falling flat on their face in front of dozens of guests.
Behind her, she became aware that Lady Branson and her daughters had fallen completely silent. Their chipper chatter vanished as though someone had extinguished it with a candle snuffer. Seraphine did not need to turn around to know they were all staring.
Wonderful.
She had arrived at Amberhall Manor and managed to make a spectacle of herself within seconds.
The Duke released her only once it was certain she had regained her balance. His hands disappeared as quickly as they had appeared, leaving behind an irritating awareness of where they had been. Seraphine straightened her shoulders at once, determined to recover what remained of her dignity.
“Your Grace.”
The Duke inclined his head. A single sharp glance swept across the three women as they descended the carriage. Seraphine watched the transformation with reluctant admiration. It was remarkable how much authority one man could communicate without uttering a single word.
Lady Branson straightened immediately.
“Your Grace.” The ladies curtsied. The Duke bowed sharply.
“Well, we should not keep the Duchess waiting,” Lady Branson said briskly as she adjusted her gloves and offered Seraphine an apologetic smile.
“Quite right,” Katherine agreed, already taking a step towards the entrance.
“And I simply must see my room,” Hannah added, though she had shown no such urgency a moment earlier.
Within moments they had abandoned Seraphine entirely, disappearing through the grand doors with suspicious haste.
Traitors.
Seraphine watched them go before turning back towards the Duke. The broad stone steps suddenly felt much larger and far more exposed than they had a moment ago. Guests bustled around the drive below, servants hurried between carriages, yet somehow it felt as though they were standing alone.
Has he told anyone that I proposed to him in the night? Will he speak of it to me, or forget it happened?
Her companion regarded her steadily, his expression unreadable.
