“Girls, may I present His Grace, the Duke of Wells,” the Countess announced in a regal tone.
Kenneth bowed courteously, offering a warm smile as he was introduced to Lady Sally, the graceful eldest sister, and Lady Rosemary, the impish younger one.
Both sisters curtsied with grace, their eyes filled with curiosity. However, it was Joanna who held his gaze, and he detected a flicker of apprehension in her eyes as she came closer.
“Your Grace,” she greeted, her voice as clear as a bell.
“Lady Joanna, it is a pleasure to see you again,” he said.
For a moment, they looked at one another, and the rest of the world fell away. He realized that in this room full of her assembled family, they two were unique, for they carried a secret nobody else knew—nobody else could ever know.
“And you,” Joanna replied and then cleared her throat. “Have you had a chance to see the gardens? They are lovely this time of year.”
His eyebrows rose, but he understood her meaning. She, too, wanted to have a moment alone with him so that they could plan.
“I would love a chance to see them. Perhaps you and I could?—”
The sudden ring of the dinner gong cut him off, and he silently cursed at the awful timing.
“Well, you have arrived at the perfect time,” the Countess said.
“Indeed, I am famished,” Kenneth mumbled, still irritated at the poorly timed start to their dinner.
He should have arrived sooner, should have ensured they had time to talk, but there was nothing he could do now but follow the family to the dining room and hope that a chance to plan things in more detail would present itself later.
“Shall we?” the Countess prompted, leading the way into the dining room.
Kenneth fell into step beside Joanna, his palms sweating. “We must talk,” he whispered.
She nodded her head once, almost imperceptibly. “After dinner,” she whispered back, her voice so quiet that he could hardly hear her.
As they crossed the threshold into the dining room, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the intricate dance they were about to engage in might reveal more than either of them was prepared to disclose.
The dining table, adorned with fine china and silverware, told Kenneth that the Countess had taken great care in arranging this dinner. This boded well for their story, as it spoke of the stock she put in their tale. She believed them. And if she did, perhaps her husband did as well?
Kenneth knew that they had to convince her family, above all else, that this was real.
He’d hoped to be seated beside Joanna. Alas, the Earl sat at the head, with Joanna on his right and Kenneth on his left, opposite her.
Lady Rosemary—or Rosy, as he’d heard their mother call her—sat on his left, her eyes brimming with curiosity as she watchedhim place his napkin on his lap. Lady Sally, who was seated on Joanna’s right, eyed him as well, but there was suspicion in her gaze—at least he thought so.
“I hope you like white soup, Your Grace. I had the cook make it specially for this evening,” the Countess said with a wide smile.
“I love it, yes,” Kenneth replied with practiced charm as a bowl was placed before him.
He’d hardly dipped his spoon into the bowl when Rosy turned to him, her curiosity bubbling forth like an eager spring. “Your Grace, your estate must be grand. How vast is it?”
“Rosy, it is not polite to ask such questions,” Joanna chided, but Rosy ignored her.
“Our estate is large, but I am certain that a duke’s estate is much larger. Do you keep horses?” Rosy looked at him with wide eyes.
Kenneth gladly turned to her. “I have a horse breeding operation on the grounds, yes. You are welcome to visit anytime.”
Rosy’s lips turned down at this. “Father does not think riding is proper for a young lady,” she said.
Kenneth gulped as the Earl cleared his throat. “Joanna, did you not tell His Grace that you do not ride?”
Kenneth looked from father to daughter and saw the color drain from Joanna’s cheeks.
