Lady Helena wiped her face with her lace handkerchief and straightened from Eugenia’s arms. “Do you think that could be it?” Her green eyes filled with hope.
“While I was not there to witness it,” Eugenia said thoughtfully, “I cannot imagine any other reason to not pay you any attention. After all, you came here to discuss a possible marriage with him.”
“He asked my parents aboutyou,however,” Lady Helena said, blowing her reddened nose.
“Me?”
Lady Helena nodded. “He asked who you were, and they explained how you had been left at the gates of the townhouse when you were an infant. They love you, of course, so they nattered on about how the cook and the butler raised you, but no one ever discovered who your true parents are or why you were abandoned there.”
Standing, Eugenia walked to the window and stared out into the darkness, toying with her pearl and gold pendant. “Why would he ask about me?”
“I have no idea. Perhaps idle curiosity. Men tend to be curious about pretty girls.”
“Me? Pretty?”
Lady Helena scowled. “Of course, you are pretty, Eugenia. Beautiful, certainly more beautiful than me. Maybe that is why he paid so little heed to me – he was thinking of you.”
Eugenia smiled uneasily. “Do not say that. Not even as a joke.”
“I was serious.”
Lady Helena stood up. “I need to change for dinner. I know you have not eaten, so when I go down, you need to go to the kitchen and eat.”
Thus, formally dressed for dinner, Lady Helena and Eugenia walked together to the vast dining hall with its formal mahogany table that could easily accommodate fifty guests. Several silver candelabra were set on it at intervals along its length, yet there were place settings for only five. The butler stood at stiff attention and liveried footmen lined the walls.
As it was not her place to enter the huge hall, Eugenia watched Lady Helena go in, and noticed her parents and the Dowager Duchess were already there. Turning to walk away, she all but slammed face first into the Duke of Bromenville. Mortified, she felt her face heat, and she stammered her apologies, curtseying with unseemly haste.
He gazed down at her from his tall height, a smile playing about his full lips. “You are Lady Helena's abigail, is that correct?”
Eugenia dropped her eyes to his highly polished black boots. “M-my name is Eugenia B-Betham, Your Grace.”
“Eugenia.” He seemed to roll her name over his tongue, bemused. “A very pretty name, Eugenia. Er, Miss Betham.”
“T-thank you, Y-Your Grace.”
“Have you had your dinner, Miss Betham?” he asked, his tone kind.
“No, Your Grace.”
“Go to the kitchen. I will give orders you are to be given a full plate of everything.”
She dared to glance up and gaze into his eyes. He still looked down, his half smile still in place. What was that expression peeking from his deep sea-blue eyes? Could it be – admiration?
He paid no attention to Lady Helena, yet he looks at me as though he likes what he sees?
“You are most kind, Your Grace.”
“I try to be,” he replied, moving past her to the dining hall door. “But it is not always possible. I bid you a very good night, Miss Betham.”
“Good night, Your Grace.”
Feeing as though she walked not on stone but on air, Eugenia found her way to the huge kitchen and discovered the Duke’s orders had flown ahead of her as if on wings. She was seated at a small table, much like the one at home in London, and fed a delicious array of foods. Smoked herring, a large chunk of grilled lamb, succulent oysters, roasted potatoes, a wedge of sharp cheese, and a small glass of wine.
As she had not eaten since that morning, Eugenia ate everything and felt the wine go to her head. Though she had drunk wine with Lady Helena before, this stuff was richer, more potent, and she hoped she could find her way back to Lady Helena's quarters. She graciously thanked the cook and her assistants and wobbled her way from the hot kitchen.
Naturally, she got lost in the huge castle, wandering up and down corridors that all appeared the same. Before she grew too frightened, she found a footman who cheerfully escorted her to Lady Helena's apartments. She went inside and shut the door, leaning against it. Feeling hot despite the chilly weather, she opened a window and let the breeze fan her face, cooling her.
“I am not tired,” she told herself after closing the window. “I am not tired.”
