Page 60 of An Unfamiliar Duke

For as long as she could remember, she had secretly envied Jonas his university education. She had known it was something she could never realize, but that had not stopped her from dreaming of sitting in a classroom and learning from the greatest minds in England. Science, engineering, and arithmetic were all considered inappropriate subjects for young ladies to pursue—or even discuss, come to that. But she could not—would not—let that stop her from gleaning what little she could on those topics from books.

She had studied in secret. Not even her father, whose library had provided her with the reading material, had known the full extent of her fascination with numbers. No one had. Until now. Her smile grew. That Sebastian was willing to entertain her unwonted interest was miracle enough; that he wished to assist her in furthering her knowledge was truly marvelous. Indeed, she had been bubbling with happiness ever since they’d determined the correct volume of Mr. Meikle’s cylinder together.

Mr. Meikle. Rosalind did not know the man. She would likely never meet him. And she would surely never speak of him with anyone other than Sebastian. But to have Sebastian take her into his confidence regarding his important and confidential work meant more than she could express.

She closed her diary. It was late. Polly had banked the fire almost an hour ago, and the evening chill was settling in. But Rosalind had one more thing to do before she retired. Rising from her place at the writing desk, she took her chair and carried it to the door that connected her chambers to Sebastian’s. When it was positioned against the door, she climbed onto it.

Standing on tiptoes, she reached up to touch the top of the doorframe. Almost immediately, her fingers found the key. Seizing it, she climbed down and unlocked the door. Before she could reconsider her actions, she set the key back on top of the doorframe and returned the chair to its position beside the desk. Lifting the candle, she walked to her bed and studied the closed door from across the room. It looked exactly as it had when she’d locked it a fortnight ago, yet somehow, it felt completely different. Then again, so did she.

Chapter 24

The next afternoon, Rosalind was sitting in the drawing room alone, reading a book on the development of steam engines that she’d found in the library, when Vickers knocked on the door.

“Forgive the intrusion, Your Grace,” he said. “You have some callers.”

“Callers?” Sebastian had been in his workshop since breakfast, attempting to beat his self-imposed deadline on the corrections to Mr. Meikle’s computations. Protocol dictated that he be here to introduce her to new acquaintances, but she was reluctant to interrupt him. “Who is it, Vickers?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Abernathy, Your Grace.” Anticipating her next question, he continued. “Mr. Abernathy is the local clergyman. I believe he and his wife are come to welcome you to the neighborhood.”

“How very kind.” The prospect of having someone to talk to was welcome. Surely a visit from a minister and his wife might be considered informal enough to bypass the need for Sebastian’s presence. They had quite obviously come without calling cards. She tucked her book out of sight behind a pillow. “Please invite them in.”

The butler bowed. “Very good, Your Grace.”

A few moments later, Vickers returned, a middle-aged couple following behind. He ushered the visitors into the drawing room. “Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Abernathy, Your Grace.”

Rosalind stood to greet them. The gentleman’s brown hair was thinning. A pair of spectacles sat upon his thin nose, and he wore a somber expression. In contrast, his wife’s face was plump, and her gaze darted around the well-appointed room with undisguised curiosity.

“Good day, Your Grace,” Mr. Abernathy said, bowing low. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” At his side, his wife curtsied.

“And I you, Mr. Abernathy. Mrs. Abernathy. Please excuse the duke. I’m afraid he is unavailable at present.” She gestured toward the sofa. “Do take a seat.”

The couple sat across from Rosalind. Mrs. Abernathy fiddled nervously with her reticule and looked to her husband.

He cleared his throat. “May I say how pleased we were to hear of the Duke of Kelbrook’s marriage. Indeed, I believe I can speak for all my parishioners in offering you our congratulations and a warm welcome to the neighborhood.”

“Thank you, Mr. Abernathy. I have not been here long, but already, I have come to appreciate the beauty of this area, and I look forward to getting to know our neighbors.”

“Have no fear, Your Grace,” Mrs. Abernathy said. “The recent inclement weather has kept people shut in their homes, but once word of your arrival reaches them, you will surely receive many visitors and all manner of invitations.”

“Yes, indeed,” her husband concurred. “The Duke of Kelbrook was not in the habit of entertaining callers, you understand, but now that he is married . . .” He perused the room through his spectacles as though to assure himself that Sebastian was truly not there. “Well, I daresay you will be more available to visitors than he has been in the past.”

Rosalind smiled politely. Only a few weeks ago, she would have concurred wholeheartedly with the minister’s observation, but now she found herself battling an unexpected wave of defensiveness. If Sebastian chose to help produce new inventions or assist a tenant in repairing a roof over chitchatting in the drawing room with a cup of tea, so much the better. “The Duke of Kelbrook’s work demands a great deal of his time,” she said.

“Of course.” Mr. Abernathy’s voice was ingratiating. “He is a very busy gentleman.”

The memory of Sebastian’s exhausted state at the breakfast table the day before entered her mind. “Yes. He is.” It was time to change the subject. “Tell me, where exactly do you live?”

“At the rectory in the village,” Mrs. Abernathy said. “Have you visited Aylesbury yet?”

“I have not. Perhaps if the weather stays dry, I could make an excursion there in the next few days.”

“The village is small, but the haberdashery shop is well stocked, and I have yet to meet a more congenial butcher than Mr. Hatch.”

“And the church has a rather spectacular stained glass window,” Mr. Abernathy added.

“Oh yes,” Mrs. Abernathy gushed. “It’s quite the loveliest I’ve seen—outside of the one at Guildford Cathedral, of course.”

“Then I shall be sure to pay it particular attention when I am there,” Rosalind said.