Page 27 of A Duke in Autumn

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Everything was packed onto the two carriages, and Eugenia looked back at the house with some sadness as she settled into the carriage. From the steps of the next house, Lady Annet waved to her for a moment, before going back inside. Then the Dowager Duchess stepped into the carriage, and the door closed behind her.

Through the window, Eugenia could see the maids and footmen scurrying to the other carriage, all seemingly keen to be on their way back to Kilmerstan Castle. They began to move, the carriage turning on the wide sweep of the road, and her eyes fell on the carriage which stood outside Lady Bellinghaugh’s house. It seemed that the Duke of Oakthorpe was leaving Bath today as well.

She watched, suddenly feeling sad – sad that she almost certainly would not see him again, unless perhaps in London, and probably married by then.

The idea did not please her. She would miss his teasing, she realised, no matter how utterly annoying he was capable of being. At that moment, he stepped out of the house, moving rapidly down the steps towards his carriage. The morning sun bathed him in soft golden light, and he looked, in that instant, even more devastatingly handsome than usual. Her heart twisted within her, and her breath caught in her throat at the sight.

He looked up, and his eyes met hers. Even at such a distance, she could see the familiar expression in them, of wry amusement at the world. He doffed his hat, and bowed in her direction, then disappeared from her view as he entered his carriage. She felt suddenly bereft, and turned away from the window.

The carriage rolled on, out of the town, and down the familiar road, where the countryside was painted in rich reds and golds, the leaves of all of the trees having turned long since. Eugenia felt as if it was a symbol of her life – what had been a warm and pleasant interlude fading into the cold loneliness of the winter ahead.

Would she ever find a man she wanted to marry? Should she have given greater consideration to Lady Bellinghaugh’s thinly veiled suggestion that she should look to marrying Oakthorpe? Unbidden, her mind replayed the moment at the Assembly Rooms, when he had kissed her – just the thought of it made her feel hot and flustered.

She wondered, now, if she had done the right thing, when she had pushed him away and fled. After all, it wasn’t that she had objected to being kissed – far from it. But… it was wrong to have allowed it… wasn’t it?

Propriety said it was – but then, by society’s rules, that one kiss meant that she was ruined, if anyone had known of it. Perhaps, after all, it was not such a bad thing – she didn’t exactly feel ruined…

She was a fool to even be thinking of it, however, for it was too late now. She was on her way home, and he was on his way to his estate, and she would not see him again. She suspected, now that she considered it, now that nothing could come of it, that she did care for him – that she could have, perhaps, even considered the idea of marrying him, with equanimity.

Well, that was something that she would simply have to live with. She would forget him with time, she was sure.

But the thoughts of him would not leave her mind, all the way home, no matter that she resolved not to think about him.

~~~~~

Morris glanced up as he walked down the steps, to see two carriages drawing away from house next door. It seemed that the Dowager Duchess and Lady Eugenia had chosen this time to depart as well. The first carriage turned, and, through the window, his eyes met hers. Something passed between them, some sense of connection, and regret, that he could not quite quantify, yet which left him feeling even more unsettled than his parting from his aunt had done.

He wanted to reach out, to stop her from leaving, to… but that was ridiculous – he was leaving himself. He had no reason, or right, to ask anything of her. Yet he did not wish her to leave – did not, truly, wish to leave himself.

He smiled, and gave her a flourishing bow, pushing his feelings aside. He had no choice in the matter – he had to go back to Oakthorpe Grange, and take up his responsibilities, after this short interlude of respite. Her carriage moved on, down the road, in the opposite direction to that in which he would travel, and he turned his eyes back to his own carriage, where the footman silently waited, holding the door open for him.

That image, of her sad expression as the carriage took her away from him, stayed in his mind, all the long way home. He had to forget her – he might never see her again – she would go to London for the Season, come the spring, and probably marry some man who thought her perfectly presented outer surface was all there was to her, and counted himself blessed to have found a quiet, biddable wife. The thought of that galled him – she was so much more than that perfect surface!

He stared out of the window, watching the autumn colours, and the leaves blowing away in the breeze, haunted by that picture of her future, and by his aunt’s words on the topic. Should he have pursued her? He did not know, did not know the truth of his own feelings on that matter. All he knew was that, the further he got from Bath, and Lady Eugenia, the colder the winter ahead seemed.

~~~~~

They arrived back at Kilmerstan Castle very late, having chosen to travel into the deepening dusk, rather than spend a night at an Inn along the way. The last glow of the sun lit the clouds behind the castle with reds and purples as they came up the drive, through the avenue of golden leafed trees.

All that Eugenia wanted to do was take a small meal, then a bath, then go to sleep – but she was not permitted that luxury. Instead, food was brought to the parlour, and her mother insisted on telling Garrett and Juliana all about their time in Bath, immediately. Dutiful as always, she settled into her favourite chair, and nibbled at the food on her plate.

“I would account our time in Bath a success, all but for one thing – Eugenia did not manage to find a suitable man to marry. I sometimes wonder if she even truly tried. With the Duke of Oakthorpe right next door to us, staying with Lady Bellinghaugh, she had the best of opportunities…”

Eugenia flushed, and sipped her tea, wishing that she did not have to sit through such an embarrassing conversation. Juliana cast her a sympathetic glance, no doubt remembering her own time before her marriage. Garrett shook his head.

“Mother, I am sure that she will find the right person in her own good time. You despaired of me ever marrying, remember, and then, three short months later, there I was, doing just that. Mind you, if Eugenia had chosen Oakthorpe, I would have had no concerns – he is a good man, although he has a reputation for being a bit of a rogue at times.”

The fact that Garrett spoke well of Oakthorpe was significant – and left Eugenia with a small core of warmth in her heart. A pointless warmth, for she had pushed the man away, and would probably never see him again.

Chapter Thirteen

Morris stared out of the carriage window, watching as they rounded the curve, and turned in through the wide gates. He loved Oakthorpe Grange at this time of year – the wide expanse of forest which ran behind the house was lit by the afternoon sun, and the limitless shades of red, gold and orange of the leaves made the house look as if it glowed from within. It seemed like a painting of some imaginary place – impossibly perfect, yet warm and welcoming.

He snorted at the conceit – welcoming – well, yes, but also not – for with that welcome came his mother’s expectations of him. As they approached the house, he steeled himself for the inevitable conversations, for the inevitable silent reproach – all because he had not yet chosen a woman to marry.

At that thought, the image of Lady Eugenia rose in his mind. She was, at least on the outside, the precise image of everything that his mother thought he should ask for in a wife. Was that, he wondered, why he had considered her likely to be dull, when they had first met?