Page 30

Z oe looked up in shock as the duke declared from the fence that it was time for tea.

Tea? That wasn’t until…oh my. The sun was already waning in the sky, the stable hands looked like they’d worked a hard day, and Mr. Barnes…

Well, he’d been scowling at her all day.

But since the duke himself had told the man to hear her out, he’d had no choice but to listen as she demonstrated her skills.

Of course, there had been many arguments, but she had prevailed in most cases, and she was well satisfied with her day’s work. Except, of course, her work was supposed to be getting the duke to propose to her. Instead, she’d spent the day working his horses.

Oops.

He joined her in the center of the paddock and smiled warmly into her face. “I can see you’ve lost your sense of time.”

She wiped her forehead, appalled by the amount of sweat that accumulated there. “You and Mr. Barnes were most kind in indulging me.”

“It was my genuine pleasure,” he said as he looked back at his stablemaster. “Well, Mr. Barnes? What do you think of her ideas?”

The man grunted and pulled off his cap. Then he looked away as he shuffled his feet. “I don’t like ladies pretending to be stable lads.”

The duke chuckled. “Duly noted. What else?”

“Well, the girl has some ideas.”

“Good ones?”

“Some.”

“Interesting ones?”

“Mebbe. If that’s where you want to take your stable.”

“Do you know the horses that are in her dowry?”

Excitement tightened Zoe’s belly. He knew details about her dowry. Surely, he wouldn’t know that if he weren’t considering her hand in marriage. Meanwhile, Mr. Barnes nodded slowly.

“I know them,” he said. “She mentioned them.”

Yes, she’d made sure to let Mr. Barnes know what she’d be bringing to this marriage.

That she wasn’t just a title or a pretty face.

She came with equine assets that could greatly benefit His Grace’s consequence in the racing community.

Not to mention what breeding mares of their quality could do for the future of the stable.

“Well? What do you think?”

“I think they’re right fine females.” He glanced sideways at Zoe. “All of them.”

Unlike most women, Zoe didn’t take offense at being lumped in with her mares. She was of equally fine breeding and training as her horses, among humans, of course. And if the duke didn’t see that, then he was a fool.

“Excellent,” exclaimed the duke as he held out his hand. “Shall we head up for tea and then we can discuss your thoughts in more detail?”

She nodded, pleased with the outcome. “I’m afraid I smell of horse, Your Grace. I thought that might happen, and so…” She frowned as she looked around. “Where is Kynthea?”

“Over here,” came her cousin’s response. “I have your bag,” she said, holding it up.

“And there is a bath waiting for you. We will wait on tea,” the duke said.

“You’ve thought of everything,” she said with a grin.

The duke shook his head. “Actually, it was your cousin’s idea.”

Of course, it was. Kynthea always thought three steps ahead in every social situation. It was a quality Zoe greatly admired. “I’ll be very fast.”

“Take your time,” he said as he escorted her up to the house.

Kynthea joined them, taking a moment to pass her bag to their maid. Zoe smiled her thanks then rushed ahead. At home in Cornwall, she was always late, but it wouldn’t do to be tardy here. Duchesses weren’t supposed to be late ever.

She stripped out of her clothes as fast as possible.

A few minutes later, she was washing away her sweat and wondering what it would be like to be mistress here.

She would have to learn how to handle the servants, of course.

Her mother and Kynthea did that at home, but they could teach her.

Or, if she brought Kynthea here as her companion, that could be one of her cousin’s duties.

She thought of the duke’s different properties and horse stables.

They needed to be reorganized with specific locations designed for the different types of training required.

She could visit each location on a rotating basis.

At least she knew how to hire stable hands.

It was household servants that bedeviled her.

She had other thoughts, of course. Plans, hopes, and even one inspiration.

But they were all ways to avoid looking at the bed.

After she married, she would have to produce an heir.

It was a duchess’s first responsibility.

But how would she do the work she’d done today—work she loved—when heavy with child?

As for the first part, the part about creating that child in the first place… Well, she steadfastly refused to think about that.

She didn’t have time to dry her hair in front of the fire but tied it back with a ribbon. The ends would curl sweetly about her face, but it did make her look younger. Unfortunately, there was no hope for it. It was well past teatime.

She put on some earbobs because she liked the feel of them when they tapped against her neck, then rushed downstairs to where Kynthea and the duke were conversing about the corn laws, of all things.

Zoe had heard of them, of course. It was all the men discussed outside of dogs and horses.

But far from being bored, Kynthea appeared to enjoy the discussion.

Indeed, she and the duke were involved in a lively debate, and all Zoe could think was, thank God.

After Zoe and the duke were married, Kynthea could handle the boring discussions.

She was much more of an age with the duke.

Her conversation would make the time bearable while they waited for the nursery to fill.

“Don’t you look lovely?” said the duke as Zoe entered the room. He stood up as was polite and guided her to a chair.

She went where he led because that was her duty as his future wife.

It was only after she sat down that she realized that Kynthea was already placed behind the low table where the tea service would be set.

That wasn’t appropriate. That was the duty of the lady of the house, but she supposed it happened because Zoe had been late.

“My mother should be here any minute,” the duke continued. “But she hates to delay teatime for any reason, so she won’t mind if we drink something now.”

“Your mother?” Zoe asked.

“Yes. She’s coming tonight to dine en famille. Indeed, she wondered if you might consider staying for the meal rather than rushing back to the city.”

“Yes, of course. That sounds lovely.” A lie, but a necessary one.

No doubt that the dowager duchess wanted to see if she could act appropriately.

She would be judged every second on how she spoke, moved, and ate.

It would be a difficult meal, to be sure, but she had been trained from the cradle in how to go on as an elite member of society.

She would manage. Meanwhile, she turned to Kynthea. “You don’t mind, do you?”

It was another step in the negotiation. Since Kynthea was her companion, she must naturally stay or not as Zoe decided. But Zoe wanted to make it clear that her cousin was a person, not a servile attachment. She would be respected as she so often had not been during the past two weeks.

“Of course not!” Kynthea said.

Meanwhile at the duke’s nod, a footman stepped out to inform the butler that tea could now be served.

A moment later, the butler appeared carrying the tea tray, but he hesitated when he should have set it down.

Naturally, the man knew that it should go in front of Zoe, but the duke was quick to solve that problem.

“You don’t mind, do you, Miss Petrelli? Lady Zoe has been working so hard this day, I thought she would enjoy a rest.”

“Of course not,” Kynthea answered, but Zoe perked up at the implied insult.

“I am very hale, Your Grace. I think I can manage pouring a spot of tea.”

“I’m sure you can,” the man returned gently. “Nevertheless, Miss Petrelli? Would you do the honors?”

Kynthea had no choice now. Fortunately, she too had been trained since birth to perform the basic tasks of an aristocratic lady. She served the duke his tea (cream, no sugar), then Zoe (sugar, no cream), then was about to pour her own when the door knocker sounded.

It was the dowager duchess, and a more intimidating woman did not live in England. The woman swept in, frowned as everyone scrambled to their feet to greet her, then settled like a queen in the chair nearest her son.

“Late tea?” the woman asked.

“I prefer a casual schedule,” the duke responded.

“Hmmmm,” retorted his mother as her gaze hopped between Kynthea and Zoe. Oh hell. The woman wanted to know why Zoe wasn’t serving. She was about to explain when Kynthea solved the problem.

“You prefer lemon alone with your tea, correct, Your Grace?” she asked.

“Correct.”

And where Kynthea had learned that, she had no idea.

Oh wait, of course she did. Zoe’s mother had told her that while Kynthea was in the room.

Fortunately, her cousin had remembered. She poured and passed the drink, spilling not a single drop.

Well done. Zoe always rushed the serving and spilled a little, but her cousin was deliberate in her actions.

Personally, Zoe found such care exhausting, but Kynthea seemed to take to it naturally.

“Why is your hair wet?” the dowager demanded as she peered at Zoe.

“Mother, please. Lady Zoe is not here for an inquisition.”

“Ras—”

Zoe knew how to smooth this one over. “I was working with your son’s horses and begged the indulgence of a bath.”

“I offered it,” the duke corrected.

“And we were just talking about her ideas,” Kynthea interposed. “About the horses. Indeed, she learned about your father’s plans and would like to help His Grace implement them.”

The duke nodded. “I am most intrigued.”

Everyone, it seemed, fully supported the idea except for the most important one. The duchess pursed her lips and scowled. “That is not a proper activity for a lady.”