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Jonas gave his mother an appreciative smile. “I believe it best if you stay together. Miss Doyle is there as your companion, after all. It would appear very natural for you to be seen strolling the garden together. I would simply ask that if either of you sees those particular gentlemen in conversation, you wander closer. That way, Miss Doyle can listen for anything familiar in the gentleman’s voice or make note of anything memorable about his bearing.”

Lady Langton nodded solemnly. “That is easily done.”

Jonas glanced at Miss Doyle again. Her knuckles appeared whiter than they had before. “Miss Doyle? Does that approach meet with your approval?”

Her nod was barely discernable. “Yes, my lord.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth. “I only hope that I do not let you down.”

Jonas offered her his most reassuring smile. “Miss Doyle, I do not believe you capable of any such thing.”

Chapter 20

“There it is, Miss Doyle, your first view of Finley Park.” Lady Langton pointed out the window, and as the slowly moving carriage crested the rise, Elizabeth gazed through the glass in wonder.

“Oh, my!” she said.

Lady Langton smiled. “Yes. It does rather take one’s breath away, doesn’t it?”

“I’ve never seen anything like it.” Admittedly, Elizabeth had never traveled much beyond Little Tilbury, but she’d imagined the Duke of Kelbrook’s ancestral home to be similar to Viscount Langton’s. It seemed, however, that whereas Langton Manor was large, Finley Park was enormous. Built of light-gray stone, the main part of the house boasted three floors, with an east and west wing of two floors each. At the front of the house, an ornate pediment surmounted a portico of columns, and a decorative trim ran along the roofline. A long driveway led into a square courtyard, and potted shrubs lined the wide staircase on either side of the large front doors.

Ahead of them, Elizabeth saw Viscount Langton and his valet, Hancock, rein their horses to a stop, and from the stables on the left, two groomsmen approached at a run. The carriage rolled to a halt, and the crunch of shifting gravel beneath the wheels finally ceased. Elizabeth straightened her back, attempting to work out the unaccustomed stiffness there. Although she’d never traveled in such a luxurious carriage before, it had been a long and bumpy ride, and she was ready to be free of the confining vehicle.

Seated beside Elizabeth, Lady Langton’s lady’s maid, Clara, roused herself from her nap and straightened her bonnet. Lady Langton, who was sitting opposite them, waited with barely concealed anticipation. Through the window, Elizabeth watched Viscount Langton confer with the groom, then turn to walk toward the carriage. Knowing that he was not yet close enough to see her observing him, she stole a moment to admire how well his broad shoulders filled his dark-blue coat and the way his dark hair curled slightly beneath his hat.

For perhaps the hundredth time since they’d left Langton Manor the day before, she gave thanks that the viscount had opted to ride his own horse rather than join his mother in the carriage. It had been hard enough to maintain her distance at Langton Manor. There had been three or four times over the last few days when she’d almost lowered her guard enough to talk to him as she’d talked to Reynard, but then a servant had approached and called him by his title, and she’d been swiftly reminded of his position and hers.

No matter how hard she tried, however, she could not fully ignore him. She sensed his presence whenever he was near and felt his eyes upon her often. Having to sit across from him—or even worse, beside him—all the way to Finley Park would have been her undoing.

The carriage door opened, and Elizabeth shrank back. Lady Langton inched toward the doorway, and Viscount Langton’s gloved hand reached out to take hers.

“Thank you, my dear.” The viscountess stepped down gingerly.

Clara slid forward and handed the viscount her mistress’s walking stick. He offered it to his mother, and once he was sure she was steady on her feet, he turned and assisted her maid out of the vehicle. Elizabeth waited. Sure enough, as soon as Clara was situated beside Lady Langton, the viscount’s extended hand reentered the carriage. Taking a deep breath, she moved closer and took his hand. Instantly, a frisson of awareness ran from her fingertips all the way up her arm.

Keeping her eyes lowered, she stepped out of the carriage. “Thank you, my lord.”

“My pleasure, Miss Doyle.” He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze.

Unprepared for the intimate gesture, she glanced up. His dark-brown eyes held hers, and Elizabeth’s breath caught.

“You are come!” From behind them, the Duchess of Kelbrook’s voice rang with excitement.

The viscount released her hand, and Elizabeth turned to see the duchess descending the portico stairs on the arm of a tall man with light-brown hair and smiling blue eyes. Moving aside, Elizabeth watched as the duchess greeted her brother and mother with a kiss on their cheeks before stepping up to her.

“Miss Doyle,” she said, taking Elizabeth’s hands in hers. “I am so glad you are here.”

Touched by the duchess’s kind welcome, Elizabeth dropped into a curtsy. “Thank you, Your Grace. It is an honor.”

The duchess turned to the tall man standing beside her. “Your Grace, may I present Miss Elizabeth Doyle. Miss Doyle, my husband, the Duke of Kelbrook.”

This time, Elizabeth’s curtsy was deeper, and when she rose, the duke smiled pleasantly. “I have heard much of you, Miss Doyle. You’ve made quite an impression upon my wife. I look forward to getting to know you better.”

“Thank you, Your Grace. The duchess is very gracious.”

“She is indeed.”

“Unless you’re her younger brother.” Lord Langton stepped closer and joined their conversation. “Then she borders on officious.”

The duchess glared at the viscount, and her husband chuckled. “Do not fault her for that trait this week, Langton. Without it, she would have been hard-pressed to pull off a garden party of such magnitude in so short a time.”