Page 32 of The Duke Not Taken

“How could I forget a breathtaking beauty?”

She felt herself flush. She took another small step forward. “Have you come to attend the ball? For if you have, I—”

“Good afternoon, Donovan!” Lila trilled very close by. “You’ve delivered our guests safely, I take it?”

One day, Amelia meant to tell the woman how annoying she was.

“I have indeed, madam, and all of them look forward to the ball. May I introduce Mr. Paul Peterborough?”

The gentleman on horseback, who had yet to say a word, smiled and tipped his hat to the lot of them.

“My valet,” Donovan said.

“Welcome, Mr. Peterborough,” Beck said. “Donovan, have you forgotten me? I thought you’d never arrive.” He came forward, his hand extended for Donovan to shake. “My wife has missed you terribly.”

“It’s the ball, Donovan,” Blythe said. “There is so much yet to be done and my husband does not share my sense of urgency. I don’t think we will ever be ready—”

“We will, on my word,” Donovan said easily. He glanced up at Mr. Peterborough. “If someone could perhaps show my valet...?”

“Garrett!” Beck shouted for his butler. “Come, come—show the gentleman to his rooms. The rest of you, follow me,” he commanded, and bounded into the house under the scaffolding that framed the entrance, his entourage behind him. Garrett and Donovan exchanged a few words, and with one last brief look at his companion, Donovan followed the Hawke family, scooping up a giggling Peg-leg Meg and Birdie, each under one arm, as he went.

In the salon, he fell onto the divan and crossed his feet at the ankles, very much at home. Amelia was fascinated.

For half an hour, over tea, Donovan listened to every story the girls wanted to tell, even those already told. He listened patiently as Blythe ranted about the myriad things that must be done to keep the ball from being a complete disaster, the ball whichof coursethey were eager to host, but had not realized the extent of things that needed to be done.

At Lila’s question, he rattled off the names of guests he’d escorted to Torrington Hall, men that Amelia supposed she was to meet. “Lord Frampton, Mr. Beasley, Mr. Cassidy, Baron Vinson. They’ve all been billeted.”

Lila laughed. “They’re not soldiers.”

“In the hunt for love? They certainly are,” he said, and cheekily winked at Amelia.

Amelia didn’t care about the others just now—she wanted to speak to Donovan, to ask if he had another name, and if he was married, and where did he hail from, but she couldn’t seem to get a word into the conversation, as everyone was talking at once. Blythe, as usual, was simply overwrought with the idea of three hundred or more guests, not to mention the staff that would need to be brought in. “You can’t possibly understand the anxiety this ball has caused me,” she said to Donovan, apparently forgetting that Amelia was standing right there.

“It’s a pity Goosefeather Abbey sits in ruin,” Donovan said, and yawned as Birdie climbed over his shoulder to shimmy off the back of the divan. “There’d be enough room for all the bachelors in Europe to reside there in advance of the ball.”

“Goosefeather Abbey,” Beck said. “Itisquite large, isn’t it?”

“Massive,” Donovan agreed. “But half sits in ruins.” He stood up, scattering little girls everywhere as he did. He wandered to the sideboard and helped himself to a brandy. “With a bit of work, it could be made habitable again.”

“Would it be large enough to house a girls’ school?” Amelia asked.

Beck’s head came up. “An absolutely brilliant idea, Your Royal Highness. The abbey would be perfect in terms of size and location. Why hadn’t I thought of it before?”

“Perhaps because it is in ruin?” Blythe said. “You must think of the children’s safety, darling.”

“The hall and several of the monks’ personal quarters are intact,” Donovan said. “Mr. Peterborough and I had a look around while we rested our mounts.”

“But who owns it?” Beck asked. “That question was put to me a year or so ago and, as I recall, the answer was not entirely clear. The records were destroyed in a fire. The whole thing is shrouded in a bit of mystery. But do you know who we might call on to—”

“Beck, darling,really—we must turn our attention to the ball! It’s in five days.”

“Right you are, my love. Donovan? We have much to do. We’ve made a rather extensive list.”

“And we’ve not a moment to waste,” Blythe said. She strode across the room to the door and stuck her head into the hallway. “Mrs. Hughes! Mrs. Hughes, where are you? Come and fetch the girls!”

Lila stood as the girls began to complain about being expelled from the room. “Your Royal Highness? We have much to discuss, haven’t we?”

“Do we?” Amelia couldn’t think of a single thing. Besides, she was perfectly content to remain and hear all that had to be done in preparation for the ball.

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