Page 37 of Cinderella's Charade With the Duke
‘Far more than I expected,’ she replied in a low tone. ‘Pretending is fun.’
‘Then, let us continue for one more and then take refreshment.’
‘Sounds glorious, William,’ she replied, offering a small bow and wink before they began their next set.
The evening became a blur of dances, introductions and pauses with His Grace and Lady Buchanan. They were keen to check in with her at regular intervals and Hattie was grateful for their attentions to ensure she was settled and comfortable. The hours passed quickly and as a crack of thunder and lightning sounded, there was a small hiccup to the music and dancing.
‘Stay as long as you desire, everyone. No need to rush out only to be caught in a downpour,’ His Grace called out good-naturedly.
Laughter followed and the musicians began an enthusiastic reel, which men and women settled into with ease. Hattie stood by His Grace’s side and sipped wine from her glass. ‘We may be dancing all night,’ she quipped. ‘The rain is sideways,’ she added, nodding towards the rain now pounding along the large windows.
‘It is, but we cannot send them off now, can we? Especially when you are such a smashing success. They are all believers in Lady Penelope Denning and our…attachment. You have charmed all of them…including me.’ He gazed upon her, taking a step closer. His forearm pressed against her own and the liquid heat from such a meagre touch coursed through her.
Her stomach flipped. Perhaps the wine was rushing to her head, but the way he said the words and the gaze accompanying them made her believe for a moment that he desired her andthat shewasCinderella destined to live among them all here for ever with Ophelia and Trudy by her side.
His fingers trailed along her collarbone and her pulse jumped. Surely she was mistaken. He would never think of her in such a way. She was an orphan, a no one, and he was her employer. She took a small step back despite how she savoured his touch and the idea of his affections.
‘My apologies. That was inappropriate…’ he added, running a hand through his hair. ‘I am grateful to you, that is all. I will see to our guests.’ He disappeared into the crowd before she could reply.
The evening continued in a swirl of music, dancing and revelry, and after a time even the most steadfast guests began to exit the dance floor and prepare to leave as the clock struck two a.m. The worst of the storm had dissipated despite the errant rumblings of thunder and lightning that seemed determined to linger.
‘Shall we bid our guests farewell?’
Hattie turned to His Grace and smiled. His playful good humour had returned and Hattie was grateful for it. She disliked awkwardness and wished to celebrate all they had accomplished that evening with Lady Buchanan and the staff of the Manor. Without all of them, they wouldn’t have been able to succeed in such a scheme.
‘Of course,’ she replied, accepting his offered arm.
Guests filtered out in intervals as the carriages manoeuvred through the muddy mess that had become the drive leading to the Manor. Even from the doorway, Hattie could see several of the horses were still a bit skittish and jumpy from the storm as they wove through the line of carriages and guests hurrying to reach them and return home for rest.
Several of the horses pawed at the ground and shook their heads against their reins and blinders, eager to escape the storm and the crush of carriages crawling around the drive as they were loaded with guests. A crack of thunder and lightning flashed, sending one pair of horses from a fine carriage in the middle of the drive that had just been loaded with its guests into a jump as the driver closed the door for the ladies within. The horses kicked up as the man rushed to them, attempting to grab the reins and leap up to the driver’s seat to regain control. One of the horse’s hooves hit him squarely in the chest, sending him sprawling back into the muddy drive with a thud.
Hattie sucked in a breath and grabbed His Grace’s forearm. ‘William,’ she said, urgently interrupting him. The desperation in her voice must have shocked him. He stopped speaking mid-sentence and turned to where she pointed.
He cursed before shouting, ‘The carriage!’ to all those before him and closer at hand. He rushed past several men, who then followed him in pursuit of the runaway carriage that was picking up speed as it approached an upcoming curve in the drive. The women within the carriage screamed as they clung to the doors for safety and men ran behind, trying to catch up with the carriage as the wheels splashed mud back at them, impeding their progress.
His Grace was fleet of foot, closing the distance between him and the carriage with impressive speed. Soon, he was alongside the back wheel and Hattie cringed. It was a dangerous spot to be in as the carriage began its turn, but he stuck to his position and did not falter, but increased his efforts. He reached the first horse and grabbed for the reins. The horse picked up speed and the back wheel of the opposite side of the carriage tilted off the ground. Hattie’s heart thundered in her chest. The carriage was tipping.
‘William!’ she cried out over the din of the noise and commotion around her. Before his name had even echoed across the drive, the carriage tipped and William disappeared beneath it.
Chapter Fifteen
William awakened to humming, a woman’s humming. It was a sweet tranquil sound and followed a soft rise and fall like the movements of a dance. It might have soothed him if every single fibre of his body didn’t ache like the devil. His eyes felt heavy and weighted, but he blinked them open slowly, which hurt more than expected.
It wasn’t even that bright. It was dusk or perhaps dawn, it was hard to tell, but he was in a bed and streams of yawning light fell across the room. It was a stately room and looked familiar, but not entirely. Where was he? And what had happened to him? He groaned and shifted.
The humming ceased and the floorboards creaked. A woman appeared above him and smiled. ‘Your Grace!’ the woman said, her beautiful face beaming down at him. ‘He is awake, Daphne. Can you ring for Mrs Chisholm?’
Your Grace? Was she speaking to him?
He stared up at her. She looked familiar, but he could not place her. Her features were handsome, but subdued. Her chestnut hair fell softly about the shoulders of her blue dress and her wide brown eyes were warm and searching as she smiled. There was a kind, gentle way about her he liked. ‘Hello,’ he saidand coughed. His throat was dry and it pained him to speak. Had he been shouting? He clutched his throat and coughed again.
The young woman pressed a gentle reassuring hand to his forearm. ‘I will pour you some water. Do not trouble yourself to speak. We are just pleased to see you awake.’
‘Yes…’ another woman appeared at his bedside ‘…you gave us a scare.’ She smiled brightly at him. She was blonde, quite pretty, and seemed familiar, but in a different way. He stared at her. What was her name? He should know her. He was certain of it.
But his mind was blank and void of any answers. It also ached horribly. He touched the side of his head and cursed.
‘You took quite a spill, but the women in the carriage are fine, merely shaken from the accident. They have you to thank. But, please, no more gallantry like that for a while, Cousin, you gave us all quite a scare.’ She clutched his hand in hers.
