Though the journey proved arduous and exhausting, both Eugenia and Lady Helena shook off their weariness easily and looked forward to yet another day in the jolting carriage. Eugenia saw the evidence of the journey’s difficulty in Lady Helena's mother, the Countess of Whitington. Her eyes drooped, and the corners of her mouth had grown weariness lines. A quiet, kind woman, Eugenia heard her snap at her personal maid for the first time in her young life.
When at last they arrived at the Bromenville estates, the Countess seemed on the verge of collapse. Her husband, the Earl of Whitington, assisted her – with his arm through hers – toward the group in front of the castle waiting to meet them. Walking behind Lady Helena, Eugenia tried to take in the castle and the sights all at once.
“Who is the woman standing next to His Grace?” she whispered to Lady Helena.
“The Dowager Duchess,” Lady Helena whispered back. “His stepmother.”
Eugenia took her first look at their host, the Duke of Bromenville. As the Earl and Countess made their courtesies to both him and the Duchess, she gaped at the Duke. Lady Helena had not been mistaken when she said he was handsome. He was more than that – he wasbreathtaking.Tall with a broad expanse of shoulders, he wore his dark blonde hair in a ponytail at his nape. His eyes were of the deepest sea-blue color, large and framed with long black lashes. He wore a black, tailed coat, a grey waistcoat and trousers, and a white ruffled shirt, – he was the most beautiful man she had ever seen.
He made small talk with the Earl, smiling with even white teeth, and kissed the Countess of Whitington’s hand. “I hope your journey from London was not too difficult for you,” he said, glancing around at the rest of the party. Back with the servants who accompanied the Whitingtons, Eugenia felt a bolt rush through her when those eyes fastened on her.
His eyes widened. His smiling mouth faltered. She sensed rather than saw the quizzical glances from the other servants as they noticed his attention on Eugenia rather than the approaching Lady Helena. Though she would not be presented to him as Lady Helena currently was, Eugenia dropped into a low curtsey. The Duke finally dragged his gaze from Eugenia to Lady Helena dipping into hers, then took her by the hand and raised her up, smiling. He kissed her hand as he did her mother, but his eyes flicked past her shoulder to Eugenia.
A small smile playing about his lips as their gazes met, and Eugenia checked to see if he smiled at someone behind her. But, no, he looked ather, and she tried to hide a squirm of an odd mixture of delight and worry.
“Come, be welcome,” he said to everyone in general. “Rest and refresh yourselves. I have food and drink in the drawing room whenever you are ready.”
Eugenia followed with the other servants as the Duke and Dowager Duchess escorted their guests inside. He chatted with the Earl, while the Dowager Duchess spoke with Lady Helena and the Countess. Yet, even as she gawked at the magnificent castle around her, Eugenia caught yet another glance from the Duke. She presented a nervous smile and almost swooned when he smiled back.
Following Lady Helena and her escort to the chambers prepared for her, Eugenia wondered why the Duke kept glancing at her.
Dukes do not pay attention to ladies’ maids as a rule.
She had never considered herself to be particularly pretty or beautiful, as Lady Helena was, and the men in the Whitington’s household paid little attention to her. So why did he gaze at her as though he liked what he saw?
“Is he not handsome?” Lady Helena moaned happily as she and Eugenia heard the door to her spacious and ostentatious apartments closed behind the servant. “I still feel his lips on my hand.” Lady Helena waggled the appendage in question, then flopped onto the great bed. “I may never wash that hand again.”
Eugenia giggled as she walked around the rooms. The trundle bed for her to sleep on was larger and softer than her own in the Whitington’s London townhouse. The coverlet, a thick quilt, was finer than what she had in London as well. A knock on the door heralded the footmen with Lady Helena's luggage, and Eugenia hurried to open it. She directed them to place the boxes on the floor, and once they bowed their way out, she began opening them to find a gown suitable for Lady Helena to wear.
Helping her mistress to undress and wash, Eugenia brushed out Lady Helena’s long auburn locks and listened to her chatter about the Duke, the castle, and the Duke’s absent brother. “His Grace said his brother had some sort of accident,” Lady Helena said to their reflections in the looking glass. “He is indisposed but should recover soon. I wonder if he is as good looking as His Grace.”
“I am sure he is,” Eugenia said, coiling her hair into a chignon, wrapping some lengths in paper to create ringlets down Lady Helena's slender neck. “It must run in the family.”
After brushing out the wrinkles in a pale blue gown trimmed with white lace, Eugenia dressed Lady Helena in it, then took the papers from her hair. With a comb, she carefully created the ringlets, then stood back and let Lady Helena admire herself.
“You look lovely, My Lady,” she whispered.
“Thank you.” She gave Eugenia a quick hug. “I will tell you all about His Grace when I get back.”
After she had gone, Eugenia unpacked Lady Helena's gowns, jewelry, cosmetics that kept her skin glowing, and other personal items. She then built a fire on the hearth, as the afternoon had waned toward evening, and the night would grow chilly. Her stomach rumbled as she gazed out of one of the windows. Lady Helena's quarters overlooked a vast stable complex, and she watched in delight as grooms exercised the horses. She had always loved horses, and whenever possible went to the stable behind the townhouse.
In London, the grooms did not mind if she came inside to pet the horses or feed them bits of carrot or apple. Though she had never ridden, she always dreamed of riding across the land, her hair streaming in her wake. She toyed with her dark braid as she leaned against the sill, once more thinking about His Grace, the Duke of Bromenville.
“Why did he stare at me so?” she muttered, fingering the pendant on its fine chain. “Perhaps he confused me with someone else.”
Though she knew that was not likely, Eugenia wondered if perhaps it was.Perhaps I remind him of someone he once knew.She watched the sun descend over the moors. It cast stunning rays of gold into the clouds while they themselves glowed in a myriad of purples, pinks, and reds. Dark crept over the moors, and Eugenia, with a sigh, left her window sill to light the lamps.
Just then, Lady Helena burst into the apartments, tears running down her cheek in a flood.
“What is wrong?” Eugenia hurried toward her.
“His Grace.” Lady Helena flung herself onto the bed, sobbing. “He never even looked at me.”
Chapter 7
Eugenia held Lady Helena in her arms as she wept. “Why would he not look at me?” she wailed. “He was polite, talking and smiling with my parents. But I could have been a statue for all the notice he took of me.”
“I am so sorry,” Eugenia spoke softly against her hair, rocking the stricken lady back and forth as they sat on the edge of the bed. “Perhaps he is just shy with beautiful young women.”
