Chapter Seventeen
The day after Kitty’s magical adventure in the tree with the duke, she wrote to her mamma, informing her of plans to extend her fictitious visit to her aunt in Derbyshire for another week.
Outrageous, absurd even, but she had followed the impulse and requested her letter to be delivered posthaste. Since then, another few days passed charmingly yet had been fraught with an unknown peril. An odd sort of tension existed between her and the duke whenever they crossed paths or dined with his family. He’d rarely allowed them to be alone, and she had not noticed before, too uncertain of the strange feelings he inspired.
Kitty laughed at the idiocy of it all, though she sobered immediately.
Why won’t you be alone
with me, Alexander? And why am I not finding every reasonable excuse to run far away from you and this situation?
She knew she should be in London with her sisters. That old refrain only made her sigh with impatience. Kitty was both baffled and intrigued by the manner in which her mind and heart regularly turned to the dratted man. All the buried hopes had been stirred up, and Kitty was never one to shy away from her impossible and daring dreams or escapades.
With a sigh, she closed the book she’d been reading, lowered it to the small writing desk, and made her way across to the wide windows of her room. She stepped closer, pressing her palm against the cool glass as she spied Alexander seated in a rowing boat, gently floating atop the lake. As she stood watching the duke, a most astonishing truth became evident to Kitty. The duke was indeed afraid to be alone with her. Is it because you like me, too, Alexander? For she had not tried harder to leave his castle simply because she felt with her entire heart a connection of unprecedented proportions lingered between them.
A flash of green caught her attention, and she shifted her regard from the duke. Mr. Collins ambled across the lawns with a posy of flowers in his grip. He would bring them to her as he did each day, and they would take a walk along the lake, where he would make her laugh with amusing anecdotes of his travels. No anticipation shivered through her at the prospect of taking a stroll with Mr. Collins, though he was so very amiable and attentive.
Was Mr. Collins courting her? Merciful heavens. The idea seemed too outlandish. The man thought her to be Alexander’s fiancée.
Unless he knew the truth?
Yesterday, on a short stroll through the gardens, he had suggested calling upon her in town to meet her mother and sisters. She hadn’t had the chance to answer, sensing someone watched them. It had been Alexander, on top of the hill overlooking the gardens. When she noticed him, he’d merely turned his chair away and wheeled himself from her sight. She had made a cake of herself by grabbing the folds of her skirts and hurrying up the slight incline in his direction. By the time she’d arrived at the summit, Alexander had disappeared from view, leaving her to wonder where he’d gone.
Mr. Collins had seemed decidedly disgruntled by her actions, but he’d made no comment. Kitty moved from the windows, plucked the book from the writing desk, and slipped it into the deep pocket of her day gown. She made her way from the chamber down the long hallway and winding staircase. Mr. Collins smiled upon seeing her.
“Miss Danvers, good afternoon. Might you accompany me on a stroll?”
“Mr. Collins,” she said warmly, accepting the flowers he held to her. “Thank you for the invitation, but regrettably I have other plans. Perhaps after dinner, we could take a turn through the gardens? With Penny accompanying us, of course.”
He masked his disappointment quite gallantly and even made a charming bow. Kitty excused herself, placed the flowers in a vase, and rested them on the walnut table in the smaller drawing room. Then she made her way outside, walking along the path that led to the lake in the distance.
“Miss Danvers!”
The call had her turning around. “Mr. Collins, is all well?”
He reached her, panting slightly, his hair no longer impeccably styled, as if he had repeatedly raked his fingers through it. “It is,” he said with a smile. “I suspect you will visit Alexander, and I thought I might accompany you on the stroll to the lake.”
She hesitated, then replied, “I would like that, Mr. Collins.”
Kitty ambled beside him for a few paces and shot him a curious glance when his steps slowed before halting. As she’d suspected, there was more in this than merely keeping her company. “Do you wish to speak with me, Mr. Collins?”
He grimaced, staring off in the distance before settling his regards on her face.
“I suspect you are in love with the duke. On our long walks, I could feel that your mind was with him…and yesterday, the way you ran after him…”
Kitty flushed in abject mortification. “I admire and like him, yet I believe there is a difference,” Kitty said softly, glancing at him with a proud tilt to her chin.
He was silent for a moment, staring into her eyes. “He’s the loneliest man I’ve ever known. He needs love to ward off that loneliness. Yet he does not accept comfort willingly or readily. I suspect, though, he would give away his entire wealth if you were the person to offer it.”
“How absurd you should think so!” Yet her heart pounded with desperate hope, and from the smile on Mr. Collins’s face, he might have seen it in her eyes.
“I suspect you are aware of the terrible tragedy that took so much from Alexander years ago. For a time, he was an angry beast, snarling and hating the world for the loss of his parents and his inability to be the man he once was. Society did not call him mad, bad, and dangerous for sport. I daresay he was reckless and intemperate, young, and foolish in his pursuits: gambling, racing, I assume you know there were Cyprians. Alexander was well loved and respected. He has lived with pain, horrible pain as he fought to recover.”
Mr. Collins shifted his attention to the lake. “Years later and he is still not physically able to do many of the things he once did, and I suspect part of him relives that loss every day. It is hard for me…for Penny, for all those who care for him to touch that loss and offer comfort because, for all intents and purposes, we are still perfectly fashioned. And the most interesting thing about my cousin, Miss Danvers, is that he does not require that comfort from us.”
“What do you want him to share?”
Mr. Collins raked his fingers through his hair, mussing the once neat style. “Anything! He does not tell us he is lonely or unhappy, but we see it. He has eschewed all form of female companionship, and…” He blew out a frustrated breath. “Pardon my indelicacy, Miss Danvers. I will see you at dinner.”