Page 67 of Rakes & Reticules
To her surprise, the footman addressed her just as they were about to be handed over to the housekeeper. “Lady Amelia, His Grace has asked me to remind you to meet him in his study once you are settled.”
“Oh, thank you. Yes, I will be down in half an hour.”
“Very good,” he said with a nod. “I shall advise His Grace.”
“What was that about?” her aunt asked.
Amelia shook her head, in truth not quite certain why the man would have singled her out for attention. “I am to get a tour of the duke’s collection of ancient artifacts. Aunt Rosie, is it as marvelous as rumored?”
“Yes, my dear. His is one of the finest assemblage of relics in all of England.”
The housekeeper, Mrs. Lester, now took over the task of seeing them settled and hastened to agree with her aunt. “He has offered to show you his collection?”
Amelia nodded.
The woman eyed her speculatively. “He must think quite highly of you then.”
“Oh, he hardly knows me. We have not exchanged more than a few words with each other.”
Her aunt shook her head. “He easily spotted your intelligence, Amelia. Most young ladies flutter around him like silly geese.”
They parted ways as each of them were shown to the bedchambers they were to occupy for the weekend. Amelia’s was splendid, as though the duke understood exactly what she preferred and endeavored to provide it for her.
Well, this was likely Mrs. Lester’s doing.
She thanked the woman for this perfect choice.
The room was cozy rather than large, and cheerfully decorated in hues of yellow and blue even down to the flowers in a vase atop her bureau.
“It is my pleasure, Lady Amelia. I am glad you find it suitable. Just ring for me if you require anything more.”
A ladies maid soon came in to assist her in washing up and changing out of her travel clothes. The maid was also helping to unpack her trunk, and was in the midst of putting her gowns away when she paused and held up one of them. “Oh, Miss Amelia. This one is a lovely color on you. I think it will be perfect for this afternoon’s entertainments.” It was a dove gray silk her aunt’s modiste had insisted would enhance the silvery color of her eyes.
Amelia readily agreed. “I gladly defer to your superior wisdom, Betty. I think you have an excellent eye for color and style.”
“Thank you,” Betty said, giving a little curtsy.
She then fixed Amelia’s hair in a simple chignon with a few soft curls to frame her face. “His Grace will not be able to take his eyes off you.”
Amelia shook her head. “Oh, Betty. I’m sure that is not so.”
But Amelia thanked her again for all her help. “You’ve done a beautiful job. In truth, I have never felt prettier.”
As she made her way downstairs, she happened to see the same footman who had given her the duke’s message. She approached him to ask for directions to the study.
“This way, my lady.” He led her there and gave the door a sharp knock.
“Enter,” the duke called out, his voice quite commanding.
The footman opened the oak-paneled door and then stepped back to allow her into the exquisite room which exuded warmth because of all the polished rosewood cabinetry and the stunning carpet of oriental design.
To Amelia’s surprise, she was left alone with the duke. Well, his footman had left the door open, no doubt on the duke’s standing orders. The Duke of Marston was not about to make the mistake of being caught with a young lady behind closed doors. “Ah, Lady Amelia. Don’t you look lovely.”
He rose and came around to the front of his desk to greet her. “Are you ready for your tour?”
“Yes. Looking forward to it.” She glanced around. “Will no one else be joining us?”
“No. I did not think you wanted company.”
