Page 7 of The Dark Duke's Virgin

“Wonderful…” Frederick groaned. He loved his grandmother as any grandson should, but she was also a handful and seemed to enjoy the fact. Not to mention the joy she took from frustrating Frederick.

“And what is more, Your Grace, according to the letter, she is not alone.”

“Her staff?” Frederick sighed. “How many? I suppose we have the room although it might get a little cramped.”

“No, no, not all of them,” he corrected. “Just the one. She is bringing along her companion, Miss Caroline Dowding. They will be here in two days.”

CHAPTER THREE

“Oh, do not look so nervous,” Esther sighed. “One would think that we are moving in with Satan.”

“Are you sure that we are not?” Caroline responded tartly. “From everything that you have told me of your grandson, Satan might not be such a bad option. Did you write to him to ask if he had any room for us? In hell, I mean.”

“Ha!” Esther cackled. She was sitting by the window of the carriage, looking outside as if searching for something while growing more eager by the moment. “I did not paint a very flattering picture of my grandson, did I?”

“That is the understatement of the century,” Caroline muttered. She glanced through the window, feeling her stomach twist with nerves. She did not recognize the landscape specifically, but she knew it well enough that an uneasy feeling was beginning to settle on her shoulders.

“I was mostly joking,” Esther assured her, still watching outside. “Frederick is a little uptight, this is true. And a little cold at times. And the temper on him…” She clicked her tongue. “I would not want to find myself on the end of it.”

“Again, you make him sound just so wonderful.”

“But he is kind.” She turned and fixed her expression on Caroline. “And caring. Even sweet, when he wishes to be. He might not have an overt sense of humor like you and I, but do not think him humorless. He is simply… cautious.”

“Cautious about his sense of humor?” Caroline scoffed. “He sounds like a barrel full of laughs. Careful, Esther, when the time comes for us to leave, I may not wish to go.”

Esther tittered and turned back to look out the window. “Do not mistake him for the way he comes across. Sadly, he has no choice in the matter. Raised to be a duke, his father was harder on him than he should have been, instilling a sense of duty in him that even I could never shake him free of. Deep down, he is still the same little boy—why, when he was barely eight, he used to cry at night because he was scared of the dark. Do you believe it!” She laughed at the memory. “He is still my grandson,” she said with a nod, “and the hardened shell he insists on wearing is just that, a shell.”

“So, all that is to say that when he is berating me for heaven’s can only guess, I should not take it personally?”

Esther tittered. “There, now you understand.”

Caroline rolled her eyes. “Thank you for the warning although something tells me that when it is time for us to leave, I will be the first one in the carriage.”

To this, Esther turned slightly and smirked, a twinkle in her eyes as if she knew something that Carline did not. “We shall see,” was all she said. “We shall see.” And then she went back to watching out the window, eyes searching, excitement rising steadily.

Two years of living as the Dowager’s companion and not once had Caroline met or so much as seen His Grace in the flesh. For good reason too. And while the Dowager spoke highly of her grandson, on the few occasions that she visited him, she never once thought to bring Caroline along with her. A blessing that Caroline was forever grateful for.

Oh, His Grace had a renowned reputation which Caroline had been aware of even before she had run away from home. So well-known were his less than stellar hospitality skills that when the Dowager told Caroline where they would be staying for the proceeding month, Caroline almost suggested that she remain behind as the pile of burnt rubble that was the Linfield Estate somehow still felt preferable.

Caroline continued to fidget as she looked out the window, watching the farmland roll by. They were coming closer and closer to the Dukedom of Thornton, and this had Caroline on edge for reasons that went beyond what was sure to be a chilly reception.

The truth was, the Duke wasn’t nearly the concern that Caroline was making him out to be—it was an easy enough lie to tell, for she knew that Esther would sense how nervous she was. Yes, a part of her did not look forward to meeting the infamous Duke, but a larger part, the part which had the hairs on the back of her neck standing as her stomach twisted, was far more concerned withwherethis Dukedom resided.

It was far too close to London for Caroline’s liking.

Less than a day’s ride south of London, this was the closest to home that Caroline had been in two years. What if someone whom she knew visited the Duke while she was staying here? What if he somehow recognized her? Or had heard of what had happened—the reason she had fled? What if she was out for a walk one day and stumbled upon an old family friend? What if… what if… what if!

It made her ill to think which had her squirming which had Esther assuming it was her son’s impending presence that caused it. For two years, Caroline had remained in hiding, and now, she could not escape the dreaded feeling that soon her cover would be blown, and her world would come crashing down around her…

“Oh! Ohoho!” Esther pointed out the window. “There it is! We’re here! See, Caroline! We’re finally here!”

Caroline took a calming breath as she shuffled to Esther’s side of the carriage and looked out the window, getting her first glimpse of the Duke’s estate. A truly breathtaking breadth of land onwhich sat a veritable palace for how grand and opulent it was: three stories tall, grey brick and white painted stone, marble columns framing the entrance, vines growing up the walls as if they were growing from the foundations, and a wondrously vibrant garden stretching from the entrance to what must have been half a mile in front of the manor.

Even Caroline could not help but show awe as she took it in, mouth hanging open in a showing of appreciation.

“And that is nothing when compared to inside,” Esther said rightly, smirking to herself.

It was expected that His Grace would meet them outside of his home when their carriage pulled up. Strangely, he was nowhere to be seen. Rather, a butler by the name of Mr. White stood waiting, apologizing profusely because His Grace was just attending to some private matters and would meet with them shortly.

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