Page 31 of Kathryn

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***

Katie’s brand-new husband stared broodingly out the window during the five-minute drive to Dulverton House. She could not blame him for being annoyed. She had wanted to slap Andrew for his deliberate slip with Dulverton’s wretched nickname. And everyone called her immature.

Katie pulled her attention from Dulverton and looked out the window as the carriage rolled to a halt. The entire staff appeared to have lined themselves up outside of Dulverton House.

“Goodness,” Katie said, shaking off her sour mood. “Have they just been standing there all this time?”

Dulverton looked at her as if she were an imbecile. “I sent one of my servants from Chatham’s house twenty minutes ago to alert them of our imminent arrival.”

Katie felt like an idiot. Perhaps that last glass of champagne had been ill advised, after all.

Servants clad in coffee-brown livery with gold lacing had approached the carriage, but the duke opened the door, hopped out, and put down the steps himself before handing her out.

Four footmen flanked the carriage, each tall and handsome with auburn hair and light blue eyes. It was tradition in most aristocratic households to engage handsome, physically similar footmen, but never had Katie seen four men who looked so alike.

A tall, bone-thin man who could only be the butler bowed low. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace. I am Willow.” He turned to the older woman beside him. “This is Mrs. Kent, your housekeeper.”

“Welcome to Dulverton House, Your Grace,” Mrs. Kent said, dropping a low curtsey.

And so it went on down the line, all the way to Billy Pickle, the boot black.

The procedure took so long that Katie was sober by the time Dulverton led her through the cavernous foyer and up the staircase.

“I believe your maid is in your chambers,” the duke said as they ascended the stairs. “Would you care to rest for a few hours before dinner, or perhaps take a tour of the house?”

If Katie crawled into her bed at this point, she might not be able to crawl back out of it. “I only need a few minutes to refresh myself and then I’d like to see the house.”

“I will send Mrs. Kent up to you in three-quarters of an hour, if that is sufficient?”

She’d thought Dulverton would want to show his wife his own house. How foolish of her. “That will be fine.”

He stopped in front of a massive set of double doors and opened the one on the right. “I will see you at dinner,” he said, and then bowed.

Katie watched him walk a short distance down the hall—which seemed oddly empty, now that she was looking around—and disappear through an identical set of double doors that must lead to the master’s chambers. But then Katie noticed that all the rooms appeared to have grand double doors, even those at the end of the corridor, which would usually lead to a servant staircase.

Katie shrugged aside the thought and shut the door, leaning up against it. So, that was it, then. She was married. And to a man who exhibited about as much emotion as the slabs of wood that comprised his many doors.

“My lady—er, Your Grace?”

Katie looked up at the sound of Becky’s voice and heaved a sigh of relief. “I am glad to see a friendly face, Becks.”

Becky’s eyebrows shot up. “Were the servants not friendly to you?”

“I misspoke—I should have said a friendly familiar face.”

Becky nodded, looking distracted.

“Is something amiss?” Katie asked as she stripped off the mint-green gloves that matched her wedding gown.

“No, no, nothing is wrong. In fact, everything is grand.” Becky gave an uncharacteristically giddy laugh. “It is just—well, I have quite risen in the world, is all.”

“Risen? Oh, you mean you’re higher up the table?” Katie handed Becky her the gloves before reaching for her hatpin.

“Yes, indeed. I am quite a grand personage now, Your Grace.”

“Must you call me that when we are alone?” Katie asked as she followed her maid into a truly cavernous and empty dressing room. But there was no reason to unpack her trunks as they would only stay one night.

“It wouldn’t do for me to call you anything else,” Becky said primly, taking Katie’s arm, leading her toward the dressing table, and shoving her down on the bench.


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