Chapter 11 Dietrich
Chapter eleven
Dietrich
Frustration rolled through Dietrich as he rode the mare hard back toward the duke’s estate.
It had surprised him how easily he’d forgotten who Ella was while dancing with her.
Every scrap of self-control he thought he had disappeared, and all he could think about was how wonderful it was to dance with her.
But he couldn’t think that—not when she was Lady Eliana and he would only ever be her father’s stable master. Not her equal.
He slowed the mare, unwilling to take his frustration out on her, as they left Eldenwilde behind. He’d already forgotten her name. She was one of the new mares that had come with the duke, and in his distraction with Ella, he had lost track of it. Was it Lavender or something like that?
“Good girl,” he said, patting her neck.
The mare didn’t know that he liked to call the horses by their names. She wouldn’t be offended, although he might not forgive himself for it.
As the distance to home lessened and the trail to the picnic clearing came into view, Dietrich groaned.
He had forgotten to ask if Beatrice and Ella wanted to join him for a picnic this afternoon.
That had been his main excuse for being there, and Beatrice had managed to make him completely forget it.
He growled in frustration. He would have to send a groom over with an invitation. He was not going back there—not with Beatrice clearly bent on matchmaking. She had noticed the way he reacted to Ella, and she was no fool.
But just because Beatrice had managed to marry into the nobility did not mean that he could expect the same. In fact, it was probably to be avoided.
The fact that two members of the noble class in the Northlands had married girls from the common class was unusual and he shouldn’t expect to follow in their footsteps.
He’d always said he wasn’t ready for romance, and the fact that a pretty girl had appeared didn’t change that.
He didn’t have time for romancing anyone, much less a duchess. Duchesses didn’t marry stable masters.
He gritted his teeth as the gates of the castle came into view.
If only he hadn’t met Ella. Things would be a lot simpler if he hadn’t.
She was going to be the death of him—whether through the way she liked to verbally spar with him or simply because holding her in his arms had felt so right, even though he knew it shouldn’t.
The last thing he should have done was hold her in his arms and spin her around the dance floor. Not when he knew who she was.
But it was too late. He knew what that felt like now, and there was no erasing that knowledge.
And Beatrice knew it too—the smirk she had given him proved that.
What did she think was going to happen? Did she think he was going to get to live happily ever after with Ella the way she had with Alexander? Because that was a fairy tale, and fairy tales did not exist—she would have to find someone else to matchmake.
He had told her over and over that he was not ready for romance, and perhaps that was his fatal flaw. Maybe if he hadn’t told her so many times, he wouldn’t be staring at a girl he could not have.
He rode up to the stables and went into his office to pen a note to Beatrice. After sealing it, he walked back out and sent it with one of the grooms.
If Beatrice accepted, he would see if the young ladies wanted to go for a picnic.
Perhaps Colette would think she was too old to gallivant off for a picnic—she was nearing ten years old, and it wouldn’t surprise him if she tried to act older than her age.
But Celeste was merely seven, and she would almost certainly want to explore…
and Colette wouldn’t want to be left behind.
He wouldn’t say anything until he heard from Beatrice, and while part of him hoped she would accept, another part of him hoped she wouldn’t. Every moment he spent with Ella was only making it harder to walk away.
But the duke wanted his daughters to have a picnic in the clearing where Eliana used to picnic. And what better way to get to know their sister than to meet her there—even if they wouldn’t know who she was.
But what if they recognized her from the portrait?
He frowned at the ground as he reached for his pocketknife and a wooden block. It was possible they had seen the portrait. Likely, even. But what were the chances that two little girls would ever connect a girl who looked like the painting to their missing sister?
It seemed rather far-fetched. Although if they did discover it, he wouldn’t have to keep the secret anymore, and that would make things easier for him.
He found himself carving a little boot as he waited.
Why a boot?
He frowned at it as his knife began working over the heel. Then a memory popped into his mind, unbidden: a young Lady Eliana showing him her brand-new riding boots so she could learn to ride.
With a growl, he threw the block of wood across the room. Why was everything about her?
Why couldn’t he have one moment where he didn’t think about Lady Eliana—or the Ella he was spending more and more time with?
He slipped his knife back into his pocket and left his office, striding out into the barn. If he couldn’t stop thinking about her, he might as well do something useful, since sitting in his office wasn’t accomplishing anything.
Even if he didn’t necessarily want to deal with his men and their inevitable comments.
It was only a matter of time before they realized he was falling for someone. They had already been mercilessly teasing one of the others; it wouldn’t be long before they discovered his secret and turned their attention to him.
He listened to the banter coming from the men as they cleaned out the stalls.
“Are you going to take another horse out?” one of them asked as Dietrich approached.
“Does she need to go out?” Dietrich replied.
“Not particularly,” the man said with a grin. “But since you seem to be sending an awful lot of notes over to Eldenwilde, I thought maybe there was a young lady you were interested in—and needed an excuse to visit.”
Dietrich fought to hide the blush creeping into his cheeks. There was no way they knew he’d already been to Eldenwilde earlier today. The man was bluffing.
“You’ve got jokes,” Dietrich said, giving him a friendly shove on the shoulder. “Very funny.”
At that moment, John appeared, waving a note in his hand.
“Your letter from Eldenwilde!” he announced loudly, ensuring everyone could hear.
Dietrich groaned as his men erupted into cackles of laughter. Of course, they were all paying attention now.
“It’s from Lady Beatrice,” he said loudly, hoping to deflect some of the teasing.
Those who had been with him long enough knew exactly what that meant, and they quickly informed the newer arrivals. Beatrice was safe territory—not only was she practically his sister, but she was married, giving Dietrich a convenient excuse.
He tore open the letter and eagerly scanned its contents. Beatrice and Ella would be on their way to the picnic clearing in an hour, and they’d love to see him there.
Dietrich grinned, unable to help himself.
“I see that look,” John teased laughingly.
“I’m going to take the young ladies on a picnic,” Dietrich said, ignoring the jibe. “If their mother agrees to let them go, that is. Lady Beatrice said she’d love to join us. I’ll need two men and a carriage if the ladies agree,” he announced before hurrying off toward the house.
It was time for Ella to meet her family.
Dietrich strode through the castle and made his way to the duke’s study. He paused at the portrait outside, once again taking in the similarities he had already studied so many times—and yet they still surprised him every time.
Before he could knock, the door opened, and the duke himself appeared, stopping short when he saw Dietrich.
Then he saw what Dietrich was looking at, and his eyes softened. “It is a good portrait of them,” he said quietly. “I remember...” The duke’s voice caught in his throat. “What can I help you with?”
“You had mentioned bringing the young ladies for a picnic,” Dietrich said. “Lady Beatrice Dunham and I are friends, and she also wanted to go on a picnic. I didn’t know if you would be willing for me to take your daughters today, but I thought I would ask.”
The duke nodded. “That would be lovely, I’m sure. I think you ought to ask—no, I will send word. Better to do that than have someone tell you no.” He flashed a quick smile, even if it was half-hearted, his gaze flitting back to his missing daughter.
Dietrich glanced back at the portrait, studying the tiny child with golden curls. She had grown up to be beautiful, and the duke had no idea.
“I will arrange a carriage,” he said before bowing and turning to leave.
“Thank you, Dietrich,” the duke called after him.
Dietrich turned back with a smile. “Of course, my lord,” he said.
He was looking forward to it for more reasons than the duke knew.
He couldn’t wait to tell them that Eliana was still here.
He hurried back to the stables and told his men to prepare a carriage before he made his way to the kitchen to speak to the cook.
“You want a picnic?” she asked him with a skeptical glance. “Do you know how cold it is out?”
“I do,” he said, “which is why I’m on my way to get blankets next.”
She grumbled at him, but he didn’t give her a chance to say no. The duke had said he could, so he was taking the girls, whether the cook liked it or not.
He made his way to the housekeeper next, where his request for blankets was met with the same skepticism.
“You’re doing what?” she asked.
“Taking the young ladies on a picnic for the duke,” Dietrich said with a winning smile. “His Grace is very excited for them to experience a picnic.”
The housekeeper raised an eyebrow but went to a closet. A moment later, she came back with an armful of blankets.
“Thank you,” he called over his shoulder as he made his way back down to the kitchen.
“Have you got an extra picnic basket that can hold the blankets?” he asked.