Chapter 8
Halstead Manor was an ancient castle that had been misnamed long ago with the intent to deceive. The people who resided within the home now were, quite opposingly, immensely honest and good-hearted creatures. When they informed Hattie that they had not seen her cat, she believed them and was disheartened by another failed search.
“He’s gone,” she said, slumping against the tufted sofa in Halstead’s drawing room.
Amelia stood nearby, swaying softly with Giulia’s baby swaddled in her arms. Her news from earlier was most welcome, and Hattie knew her friend was going to make a wonderful mother. It was with equal parts joy for Amelia’s news and disappointment that her sweet cat was still missing that Hattie sat amidst her friends and frowned.
Lucy perched on the wingback chair opposite them, her hands folded primly in her lap. “You do not know that, yet. Have you searched the woods near your house? I would imagine the cat is more likely to have ended up lost in those trees than this far away.”
Hattie wanted to be annoyed at her sister-in-law for suggesting such a reasonable course of action when she was too focused on their failures, but that would be petty. Papa was right. Hattie needed to make a concerted effort to be patient with Lucy, particularly when the woman’s only fault was being too overbearing. She closed her eyes, reaching for patience, and nodded.
“Beware of the duke, though,” Giulia said, chuckling. “I’ve heard he is quite a surly man. You wouldn’t wish to be caught trespassing on his land.”
Hattie’s eyes opened, and she sat up. “The Duke of Bentley?”
“Oh, is that his name?” Giulia shrugged. “I only knew he was your neighbor. He has quite the reputation for being unpleasant, does he not?”
“My brother met him a few years ago when his butler took ill and needed a doctor,” Amelia said, continuing to sway as the baby slept in her arms. Her graceful steps carried her in a smooth oval before the fire, the long skirt of her habit trailing behind her like a train. “He could not be called friendly, but Andrew didn’t find him rude, either. Merely uninterested in pursuing conversation.”
“There is nothing wrong with that,” Hattie said. Each of the women in the room turned to look at her, raised eyebrows or widened eyes adorning their surprised faces. Had she been too bold? She swallowed. “I only mean that he likely has a good reason for choosing such a secluded life. I’m certain he would not begrudge me searching his woods for my cat. But perhaps I will send a servant with a note to ask permission first.”
“Or perhaps he’s taken your cat,” Giulia said, “and that’s why you cannot find it.”
Amelia laughed, and Lucy dipped her chin, her expression uncomfortable. Hattie knew that wasn’t the case, though. She would have seen Romeo while she was in the duke’s house if it was. It was on the tip of her tongue to say as much, but she caught Lucy’s eye and stopped herself.
Her friends could be trusted to learn of her meetings with Bentley and not think anything of them, but if Lucy knew of Hattie’s somewhat amiable encounters with him, she would not be able to let it rest. There was no knowing what Lucy would do to get Hattie married—particularly to a single man of such rank and distinction—not when the woman was so determined to do so.
“Shall we look in the woods on our way back to your house?” Amelia asked.
And risk seeing the duke while Lucy was with them? Not a chance. “I would feel better if I could send a note first requesting permission. We wouldn’t want to be caught trespassing.”
Her friends were correct. It was a good place to search. But it would be better if Hattie was able to first give Bentley her reasons for stepping foot back on his land. Another chance encounter and he was bound to believe she was wandering his woods hoping to be found by him. She might want to be married, but she was not so desperate as that.
Giulia nodded. “That’s wise. Best not to cause any problems with your neighbor if you can help it.”
Lucy looked between them. “Do none of you understand what you are saying?”
Giulia blinked, taken aback. “What do you mean?”
Lucy glanced between each of the women in the condescending way of hers, her head tilted back just enough that she could look down the bridge of her nose at them. “Your home neighbors the Duke of Bentley, and none of you have thought to utilize that connection?”
“There is no connection to utilize, Lucy,” Hattie said, doing her best to sound reasonable. “The duke is a recluse and will speak to no one. He even refuses visits from our vicar.”
In this case, mere proximity was not cause for celebration, not when the man was a recluse. Hattie had been Bentley’s neighbor for seven years before meeting him, and even then it had occurred purely by chance. If she hadn’t nearly fallen into Mrs. Dawson’s mirror, they never would have interacted in the shop. There was no way to know for certain, but Hattie assumed that if they hadn’t interacted then, Bentley likely wouldn’t have spoken to her when he found her in the woods. The tiniest moment—her clumsiness, walking without looking at where she was stepping—had set into motion an acquaintanceship between herself and the duke. Regardless, she had promptly squashed it out of respect for him and to protect herself.
If Lucy thought seeking out a relationship with Bentley was worthwhile, she was mistaken. Before their chance encounters, the most Hattie had seen of Bentley had largely been from a great distance or as a shadow within the confines of his carriage as he came and went, seldom as that was. So much so that he’d been unrecognizable to her, and she was his closest neighbor.
He’d gone to extreme efforts to remain alone. He likely had his reasons, and they ought to respect that.
“I propose a different plan,” Lucy said, settling into her seat as though she was warming to her idea. “What if we search the woods without permission? We have a good reason: the cat. And if we are found, that can provide us an introduction to the duke.”
“But we don’t want an introduction,” Hattie said, her teeth beginning to ache from her forceful clenching. Did Lucy not realize how scheming and manipulative she sounded?
“Why not?”
Amelia’s lips pinched together. “It feels like an invasion of his privacy.”
Hattie nodded. “Exactly.”