Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

Mrs. White was in such good humor after the call and invitation from Lord Puffington that she did not object when I announced my intention to visit with Miss Primrose and did not insist upon accompanying me. I hurried to leave the house before she changed her mind.

The short walk to the Winchester home was very pleasant and the sense of freedom at being permitted to journey out on my own was exhilarating.

I breathed deeply of the fresh air and gloried in the sunshine of a new day. I had attended my first ball in London, made a favorable enough impression on a nice gentleman that he and his mother and sister had called upon me and issued an invitation.

In addition, I had a new friend.

Much as I hated to admit it, things in London were not nearly so bad as I had expected them to be.

As I neared the corner to turn on the street where Cassie lived, a carriage slowed to a stop. I glanced to the side but paid it no real attention as I assumed it was simply pausing to allow traffic to pass.

"Good day, Miss Hancock. Have you escaped from your nanny?"

My footsteps halted, though I quickly recovered and continued walking, head held high and ignoring anyone who might be speaking to me.

"You must have the hearing of an old lady," the same voice called out to me. "I said, ‘Good day, Miss Hancock. Have you escaped from your nanny?' Am I speaking loudly enough for you now?"

A woman across the street stopped and stared, no doubt alarmed by the man shouting at me from his carriage. In order to prevent causing more of a stir, I stopped and turned toward the source of my harassment.

The aforementioned conveyance was massive and ornate. A team of four horses, perfectly matched and adorned lavishly, pulled the largest coach I had ever seen. Coachmen and footmen in pristine livery stared straight ahead from their assigned posts fore and aft.

A crest painted in gold upon the shiny onyx coach revealed what I already knew, The Duke of Amherst was within.

Resplendent in a dark green coat and black hat, the detestable duke peered at me from the window of his elegant coach. And bless my soul if my heart did not skip a beat at his handsome face and devilish grin.

However, I would not be swayed by his good looks and charm. And I refused to be impressed by his extravagant means of transportation.

The man had spanked me, after all.

"Oh, hello your grace," I said as though just noticing him. "Have you lost your way? The meeting of arrogant dukes is half a mile in that direction." I gestured behind me with my chin, then turned and continued on my way to see Cassie, satisfied that I had gotten in the last word with the imperious aristocrat.

And thereupon stepped into a puddle of mud, sinking to my ankle. I felt the squish beneath the sole of my shoe and knew, having experienced this particular mishap before, exactly what had happened. A small gasp escaped my lips, but I recovered and set them firmly as I withdrew my foot from the unusually thick mud and continued my stroll as though nothing untoward had happened.

Straining my ears, I prayed the loathsome coach containing the equally loathsome Duke of Amherst had gone in the other direction or at the very least that my nemesis had closed his window.

I took two steps without hearing his mocking voice and counted myself lucky.

Until I nearly ran into the lout as he stood before me.

I stopped and looked at him. How could I not? He was a man who commanded attention from anyone with his dignified bearing. Not to mention broad shoulders and smoldering eyes, which I am sure some young ladies found irresistible.

Not me, of course.

Without saying a word, he removed a gleaming white handkerchief from his pocket and proceeded to wipe the mud from my shoe.

"It would appear, Miss Hancock, that where you are concerned, I spend a great deal of time cleaning shoes. One might think I had been reduced to the status of a cobbler."

"Oh, do you also make shoes? It seems a footman is the one who cleans them."

Why, oh, why, could I not be polite to this man?

Could it be that the sight of him, the essence of him so near to me, did things that rotted my brain in some manner? He did not touch my foot, nor did he do anything other than behave in a gentlemanly manner as he wiped the mud from my shoe. Then he withdrew yet another handkerchief and laid it upon the ground before me. "Use this to wipe the mud from the bottom of your shoe," he said and rather than mocking, his tone was kindly. Caring.

I did as he instructed, leaving a splotch of mud which would cause some poor laundress fits of distress when she saw it.

"Thank you," I finally said when the task was complete. "You are most kind."

We gazed at one another and time seemed to stand still for a hazy moment.

"I suppose that was painful for you to say, Miss Hancock," he said, a twinkle in his eye. "But I am always happy to come to your aid when you are in distress."

Whatever had passed between us which had given me a warm feeling toward him vanished in an instant.

"I am not in distress. I simply stepped in some mud. You are the one who made a mountain out of a molehill."

His gloved hand reached out and his finger grazed my cheek in a fleeting touch. "You do bring out the devil in me, Miss Sarah Hancock." Then he tipped his hat, gathered up the mud-stained linens and returned to his carriage.

Good riddance, I thought. I hoped to never see him again.

As his carriage moved away, I realized I had not thanked him for the flowers.

Perhaps I was as uncouth as he believed me to be.

Damnation! Why could I not even be the slightest bit polite when in his company? I did not set out to be unpleasant, yet when he was near, all reasonable thoughts left my head.

Obviously, the fault was his. He had some sort of mystical powers that brought out the caustic bits of my personality.

Once I was certain the dastardly duke was gone and not planning to circle the block in order to harass me again, I proceeded to Cassie's home.

Fortunately, it took only a few minutes in Cassie's company, along with a strong pot of tea and sugar biscuits, to restore my good humor.

Cassie had also received a number of flower bouquets which were on display in the Winchesters' parlor. Lady Katherine bustled about, arranging and rearranging the buds. Clearly she was pleased that her protege had made an impression upon the ton . I'm sure she did not fuss and demean Cassie the way Mrs. White delighted in doing to me.

I was happy for Cassie and fervently hoped she made a brilliant match.

And I am loathsome enough to admit I was pleased to see she did not receive flowers from the Duke of Amherst.

My head was in such a muddle. Possibly more than tea and sugar biscuits could resolve.

However, I was no quitter, so I refilled my cup and added two more biscuits to my plate.

"Is something amiss, Sarah dear?" Lady Katherine asked, her voice warm with concern. So warm, in fact, that it felt foreign as I had not been spoken to in such a manner in an extended amount of time. My throat felt tight and I feared I might tear up, though why I would have such a reaction, I had no idea.

I sipped tea to soothe my throat. I had intended to make a quip about my appetite being unusually large or some such nonsense, but different words came out of my mouth. "Why are gentlemen so confusing?" I asked, a note of desperation tinging my voice.

Lady Katherine gave a small chuckle, patted my hand and said, "Is it the gentlemen who are confusing, or your feelings about them?" Then she peered at me more closely. "Or is it one gentleman in particular?"

"I-I do not know," I said, feeling miserable.

"Well, my dear," Lady Katherine said with a knowing smile, "I am sure it will sort itself out in due time."

That might have been the best advice, but I was so unaccustomed to discussing my feelings, that I was grateful when Lady Katherine steered the conversation away from me. I was particularly delighted to learn that Cassie and Lady Katherine would be at the dinner which the Puffington family was hosting the following week.

Much better to focus on the pleasant, if dull, Lord Puffington than the vexatious Duke of Amherst.

And yet…