“As forthright as he said,” he murmured. “Ah, Miss Betham, His Grace the Duke speaks so highly of you, as do the Whitingtons, especially Her Ladyship, Lady Helena. Thus, I had to meet this most entrancing visitor.”
A blush heating her cheeks, Eugenia smiled and glanced around to cover her embarrassment. “Why thank you, sir,” she murmured. “But I am hardly special or entrancing.”
“That is not true,” Mr. Simmons announced from the huge hearth where a big black pot bubbled. “You are both, Miss Betham, and I do not tolerate false modesty in my kitchen.”
“Mr. Simmons,” Eugenia gasped. “It is not false modesty. I am just a maidservant.”
“Who happens to have caught our Duke’s eye,” Mr. Curry said. “That young gentleman has very good taste in ladies.”
Eugenia’s blush heated further. “I – I am not sure what you are talking about.”
Mr. Curry raised his brows. “Was that not you walking with His Grace in the garden last night?”
She caught herself before her jaw dropped. “Well, yes, I suppose it was.”
“Fear not, Miss Betham,” Mr. Curry nodded wisely. “This castle may be quite large, but what one person knows it seems everyone knows. There are no such things as secrets here.”
With a polite nod to her and Mr. Simmons, he left the kitchen, leaving Eugenia to return to her chair, bemused. “So, everyone in the castle knows that His Grace is – interested in me?”
Mr. Simmons shrugged and returned to the hearth. “News like that travels faster than a horse can run. I am more than surprised the Whitington clan does not know. Or at least, I believe they do not.”
“But it is only a matter of time before they do,” she murmured, staring down at her still steaming plate.
“Perhaps,” Mr. Simmons pointed his finger at her. “Eat that this instant.”
Eugenia obeyed him and ate as much as she could under Mr. Simmons watchful eye. She gave Deryn the rest, drank the cup of milk set before her and thanked Mr. Simmons. “Lady Helena will be looking for me,” she murmured. “Thank you.”
I must tell her, I must tell her, I simply must tell her.
Despite her private vow, she was not given the opportunity. Lady Helena burst into her rooms as Eugenia began cleaning, apparently unable to contain her excitement. “We are going into York,” she crowed. “All of us, His Grace, Her Grace, my parents, and I. We are going to shop for the ball.”
“Most excellent news, My Lady,” Eugenia said. “Will I be going?”
Lady Helena's face fell. “I cannot take you with me this time, Eugenia.”
“That is quite all right, My Lady.” She shrugged. “I have duties here that I must perform.”
Her mistress skipped to the wardrobe and opened it. “What shall I – oh! I will wear this. What do you think?”
She held up a dark lavender traveling gown that accented her eyes, trimmed in white lace with large sleeves covered in gold bows. “Your best choice, My Lady,” Eugenia said warmly. “You will look stunning in it.”
Lady Helena giggled like a small girl, and with Eugenia’s assistance, she changed clothes. Eugenia brushed out and coiffured her hair and tied the ribbons of a black hat with white roses under her chin. “There,” Eugenia smiled. “You are ready to storm the walls of York. Every man in the town will fall at your feet.”
Lady Helena embraced her. “I am so sorry you cannot come. But I promise I will buy you something special.”
After she had gone, Eugenia finished cleaning the rooms and caring for her mistress’s clothes and personal things. Her work finished, she decided to go to the stables. She smiled as she walked down the wide staircase and nodded at the few servants she saw or stopped for a quick word with those she knew. Outside, the sunlight warmed the air to an almost spring-like temperature. She paused for a moment, closed her eyes, and tilted her face up to its warmth.
Breathing in a deep sigh of contentment, Eugenia walked toward the foaling stable. Scenting the pleasant odors of hay and straw mixed with those of the warm horses, she quickened her step.
I wonder if that colt has grown or if I would even see the difference.
Up ahead of her, she noticed Lord Wilmot walking toward the stables as well and giggled when she recalled Lady Helena's declaration that his shyness made him adorable.
“Adorable is not exactly the word I would use,” she murmured to herself.
Fergus offered her a short bow and a wide grin as she entered the foaling stable. “Greetings, fair miss,” he said. “Come to see your wee friend?”
“If you do not mind.”
