Chapter 19

Good Morning

Bridget felt tired as she walked toward the breakfast room, but her excitement overrode her fatigue. She should not have been excited to see the Duke again, but she was. All she had been able to think about before going to sleep and upon waking up was how they had almost kissed.

That was not the scandalous part. The scandalous part was that she had wanted it—it had taken every ounce of her strength not to kiss him. Yet, the more she thought about it, the more she could not think of a reason why she did not want to kiss him.

Bridget caught Margaret's eye as she approached the breakfast room. Her mother was there too. Even though she was excited to see the Duke again, she was glad to have more time to compose herself and have some food before he spoke to him.

Bridget entered the breakfast room and smiled at her sister and mother.

"Good morning, Lady Bridget."

Bridget spun around to find the Duke and his brother sitting at the table on the side closest to the wall. She had not seen them as she entered, but she saw them now, and she could not help staring at the Duke.

"Oh, yes, good morning," she replied when she had composed herself.

She looked away from the Duke for fear she might blush, and she took her place beside Margaret, glancing over at the Duke as she sat to see him looking back at her with a small smile on his face.

Bridget focused on the basket of bread in the middle of the table to take her mind off him. She reached forward and took a slice, then scooped some butter from the bowl with her knife and spread it over the bread. She was not very hungry, but she ate anyway, or she might look suspicious.

"Mr. Peaches came back!" Margaret informed her.

"Oh, that is certainly good news." Bridget smiled faintly. "Where was he?"

"I don't know where he went, but he was in my room this morning when I woke up. I shall have to be more careful around him."

"I am glad he is back," Bridget replied.

She had been very quiet the previous night when she had slipped the cat back into her sister's room and was glad not to have woken her.

"I thought I heard someone walking around the house last night," Penelope noted. "Did you hear anything, Bridget?"

Bridget wanted to look over at the Duke but used the same restraint she had used with him after walking around the house. "I didn't hear anything, Mother."

"That was me," the Duke piped up. "I am often restless at night, and I got up to take a walk to work off some energy. I apologize if I woke you."

"There is no need to apologize, Your Grace," Penelope said. "I was not awake for long."

"I hope I did not wake any of you," the Duke added, and he looked straight at Bridget.

Bridget could not help but stare back at him. "I was not woken," she managed.

He looked more handsome than she remembered, as if he had grown more handsome overnight. His green eyes were bright and sparkled like diamonds in the early morning sun filtering through the two windows facing south. His hair was perfectly in place, and his elegant attire made him look regal at the table. Her eyes were drawn to his lips, and she regretted not kissing him the previous evening.

Bridget had been staring for far too long but could not tear her gaze away. She was glad when the Dowager Duchess entered the breakfast room.

"Good morning, everyone," Rebecca greeted.

"Yes, good morning," Bridget said a little too eagerly, finally able to look down at her plate.

She busied herself again, loading up her plate with cheese, ham, smoked fish, pastries, eggs, and fruit.

Bridget realized what she was doing too late. She took enough food for three people, distracted by the Duke. She would not have to look at him as long as she concentrated on her food. She could feel eyes on her, but not the Duke's this time. She looked at her sister.

"Are you feeling well?" Margaret asked.

"I am fine," Bridget replied. "I am hungry, is all."

"Hmm," her sister murmured, as if she knew exactly what was happening.

"Lady Bridget, we might take one of the walks this morning that I promised you, and you can work off all that food," the Duke suggested.

Bridget knew she would not be able to eat all of the food, but if she ate slowly enough, she could leave most of it without anyone seeing.

"Yes, perhaps that would be nice if I am up to it," she replied, trying to keep her tone neutral.

It was an opportunity to look over at him again without coming off as suspicious, as long as she was able to look away this time.

The Duke looked straight at her, his eyes piercing her soul, and she felt her knees weaken. She was glad to be sitting at the table, or she might have collapsed under his gaze.

"You look well rested and rosy-cheeked this morning, Lady Bridget," the Duke noted as he continued to stare at her.

"Thank you, Your Grace," Bridget replied. She was not sure if he was teasing her or giving her a compliment. "You look very well yourself."

"You flatter me." The Duke smirked. "I was up far too late last night, enjoying the fresh air. I should learn to go to sleep earlier, or I might get myself into trouble."

"There is not much trouble to get into around here, Your Grace," Bridget replied.

She could feel her sister looking at her again and knew she was talking too much. She picked up a piece of buttered bread and took a large bite. If her mouth was full, she could not talk anymore.

"Perhaps you are not fully recovered yet, Sister," Margaret noted. "You look a little flushed." There was obvious giddiness in her voice.

Bridget took her time finishing the piece of bread, hoping the conversation topic would change, but everyone waited patiently for her to reply.

"I am feeling fine, Margaret. Perhaps it is a little hot in here, that is all. Now, seeing as Mr. Peaches has returned, we must turn our attention to the wedding. Is there anything you will have me do today?"

If anything would get her sister to talk about something else, it was the wedding.

"Oh, yes, there is lots to talk about, Bridget. You have spent so much time in your room, and then there was your injury, and I am sure there are other things going on, but now that you are with me and Mr. Peaches has returned, there is a lot I must talk to you about. You have so much on your plate that we can remain at the breakfast table after everyone is done and speak about the wedding." Margaret paused for a seance before adding, "And anything else we need to discuss."

Bridget wanted to escape from the table, but she knew she could not.

"Yes, let's do that," she agreed.

Margaret nodded and turned to their mother. "Mother, will Father be back today?"

"I am not sure, my dear," Penelope replied. "He might be, but he is so busy that we might not see him until we return to London."

"I am sure he will come back to the estate. He would not want to miss all the fun, and perhaps we can play charades again. It was so much fun last time."

Bridget looked across the table but not at the Duke this time. She looked at her mother, and Penelope gave her a knowing look. They both hoped the Earl would not return.

"Lady Bridget," the Duke spoke up.

Bridget looked across at him, afraid of what he might say.

He looked pleasantly charming with a smile on his face. He placed his napkin down and rose from the table with his brother.

"I must excuse myself from the table and our walk. My brother and I are going into town, as he has informed me there is something he would like to purchase, and I am not at liberty to reveal what it is. Perhaps we will see each other later, and we can take that walk."

"That would be nice," Bridget replied.

She could not refuse him in front of everyone, but she also found that she did not want to refuse him.

"That is if you can finish all of your food by then," the Duke added.

Bridget found herself giggling like a young woman trying to impress a gentleman, and she clapped her hand over her mouth.

The Duke stared at her, pinning her down with his gaze, before he turned and left the room with Michael. Bridget could not help herself again, and she watched him leave until he disappeared around a corner.

There was not as much conversation, with the Duke gone, and she ate as slowly as possible so she would not become full too quickly. After a while, Penelope and Rebecca both left, and Bridget was left alone with her sister. She decided to take control of the situation for fear that Margaret would ask uncomfortable questions.

"So, the wedding is in three weeks. What do we need to do next?" Bridget asked.

"Oh, forget the wedding!" Margaret claimed. "I wish to talk about you and His Grace."

"His Grace?" Bridget echoed, trying to mask her smile. "What are you talking about, Margaret?"

"You tell me," Margaret countered. "I could sense something immediately after you entered the room, and you could not stop staring at him over breakfast."

"What!" Bridget exclaimed. "I was being polite. I only looked at him because I was talking to him."

"And did I hear you giggling?" Margaret added.

"Giggling? I would never giggle. Perhaps I laughed as a courtesy, but it was certainly not a giggle. Can we please talk about the wedding?"

"Yours or mine?" Margaret responded.

Bridget shook her head, still trying to hide her smile. "Yours, of course. I am not going to marry, and certainly not the Duke. Did you hit your head on the way to breakfast?"

"I might have thought that yesterday, but something has changed since then," Margaret pointed out. "My goodness! Were you out with the Duke last night?"

"What!" Bridget gasped. "How could you suggest such a thing? Do you believe I snuck out of the house in the middle of the night to be with the Duke? Does that sound like something I would do?"

"No, I suppose not," Margaret replied, looking a little crestfallen. "Still, there is something between the two of you, and I think it is wonderful. You are happier this morning, quicker to laugh, have more of a glow in your cheeks, and you cannot take your eyes off him. And it was obvious he was looking at you the entire time. You can keep your secrets if you wish, but I know you like him."

"I try to be congenial with everyone."

"Mmm-hmm," Margaret said with a smile. "I am sure you will be very congenial with the Duke."

Bridget laughed at the comment and pushed her sister gently.

"Can we please talk about the wedding?" she asked. "If you don't want my help, then I have other things to do."

"As you wish," Margaret said, studying her sister. "I know who you will sit beside at the wedding breakfast now."

Bridget rolled her eyes.

Still, her excitement rose again. She would very much like to sit with the Duke at the wedding breakfast, and she had every intention of finding him later that afternoon for a walk.

It felt like she was playing with fire, but that fire also elicited a warm sensation deep within.