Chapter Seven #2
Henry tried not to laugh as Ditty struggled to extricate herself from the stuffy armchair, cheeks flaming, almost tripping over her own feet.
He would never have thought Mavis and Avril the sort of people to drop him so firmly into it, but even he had to admit this was kind of perfect.
All of Brexley was always trying to marry him off—saying nothing of how deeply the ladies of the Lodge were desperate to see a Mrs Paisley, and now a Duchess of Glanyrafon—but this? How had they managed to tempt her here?
‘H-Henry,’ Ditty stammered. ‘Mr Paisley, I mean—I didn’t—I thought—’
‘Ah, there you are,’ said Mavis smugly. ‘Don’t worry, you haven’t kept her waiting too long.’
‘And we were just about to talk you up, don’t you worry,’ said Avril in one of her patented whispers which could carry down whole streets. ‘In fact, I was going to start with—’
‘I’m not actually here to see Henry,’ Ditty said hurriedly. ‘Mr Paisley.’
Henry was not surprised to see Mavis’s and Avril’s faces fall. It could not be more obvious they had been hoping she was here to be wooed and wed by their beloved doctor.
No, what was surprising to him was how immediately he was disappointed.
Not here to see him? Why not?
And then he tried to collect himself. He did not care what Ditty Oliver was doing, Henry tried to remind himself. He was not—there was nothing between—
‘What do you mean, not here to see Henry?’ Mavis said in shock, her brows furrowed. ‘I’ll have you know he is one of the most eligible bachelors in Brexley!’
Avril was nodding, and Henry could do nothing as she added, ‘Even more than my great-nephew, and that is saying something. You must have met him, a lovely chap, he—’
‘No one wants to marry your great-nephew, Avril,’ Mavis snapped, not taking her eyes from Henry. ‘But you—why isn’t Miss Oliver here to see you?’
It was an excellent question, Henry thought dryly, and not one he could answer.
All he knew was that Ditty’s face had never been redder, and she was clearly mortified to have been found not only in the Lodge, but speaking to his residents about marriage. About him!
‘I—I wanted to— Your brother, he said to— What are you doing here?’ was all she managed to say.
Henry’s gaze flickered to Mavis and Avril. Somehow, and he was not sure how, they had something to do with this. He’d get to the bottom of it—later. First, he had to make sure Ditty didn’t combust with embarrassment.
Grabbing her arm, and trying to ignore the sudden heat that flared through his fingers, Henry pulled her to the windows away from the chuckling ladies.
‘What am I doing here?’ he said quietly. ‘I think I should be asking you that question.’
‘I—I didn’t expect— Your brother told me to come here,’ Ditty hissed. ‘Is this a trick? Why are you here?’
Henry hesitated. It wasn’t like his brother to get matchmaking ideas, so that wasn’t it. But why else would Charles send Ditty here, if not to tease him?
The place wasn’t exactly the sort of place one proposed in, after all.
‘I’m here because I work here,’ Henry said, clinging to the facts as the back of his neck prickled. He just knew Mavis and Avril were watching them. ‘I own it, too, more to the point. That still doesn’t explain—’
‘But you said a manager,’ Ditty said quietly, her gaze flickering about the place. ‘I thought you meant a—a factory, or a mill, something!’
Henry smiled. ‘Ah, I thought so.’
But she hadn’t thought less of him because she believed he worked with his hands, he could see that. It was fascinating; he had assumed her disinterest when he had told her he worked as a manager was because she did not deem the role impressive.
But he could see now in her clear, brilliant eyes it had nothing to do with where he worked. It had been more his unexpected presence which had so unbalanced her.
‘This is where I work,’ Henry said, spreading out his arms.
‘Here? In the Lodge—for the gentlemen and ladies?’
‘For them, I suppose you could say that,’ he admitted. ‘As I said, I own this place.’
Now, why did he repeat that? Was it in the hope she would be impressed?
Perhaps Henry was fooling himself, but she did look impressed. ‘Owner?’
‘I inherited it a year ago, yes.’
‘You own this place? But doesn’t it belong to the Glanyrafon estate? Would it not belong to the Duke?’
Henry watched as Ditty’s eyes wandered around the room.
It was an impressive building, even he would admit—but it was so run-down.
It was hardly worth anything. Well, she’d have to know eventually.
‘Well…yes. I am surprised no one has mentioned it, but then, I am still Mr Paisley to so many of Brexley, which I much prefer. But technically I am the fourteenth Duke of Glanyrafon.’
Even the words sounded alien in his mouth. Henry tried to hold himself upright as he spoke, tried not to let it become too obvious just how awkward he felt.
It was rather difficult. Ditty’s eyes were wide, her mouth open and unspeaking. Perhaps he did not look like the dukes she had met.
‘Surprised?’ he teased, before he could stop himself.
Ditty breathed a laugh as she met his gaze. ‘I mean…yes?’
‘You’re not here to see the doctor, then?’ Mavis’s voice was disappointed.
Henry watched as Ditty grinned weakly at the woman behind him. ‘No, I’m not. Though even if I found the doctor, I wouldn’t know—’
‘Found him? You’re talking to him!’ crowed Avril.
Henry’s stomach twisted into a knot as Ditty’s gaze moved from the two older ladies behind him and back to his face.
‘You…you’re the doctor?’ Ditty said weakly, her smile growing as her eyes flashed with interest. ‘A duke, and a doctor?’
And his heart fluttered, most unexpectedly.
Because it shouldn’t. It shouldn’t flutter, and his pulse shouldn’t race, and his spirits shouldn’t soar, and he shouldn’t want to pull her into his arms and—
What did it matter to him if Ditty Oliver was impressed he was a doctor?
And so it was entirely unaccountable that Henry’s chest swelled. ‘I am.’
‘But you never said! A duke, a doctor, you never—’
‘Was I supposed to?’ Henry said quietly, hoping Mavis and Avril had not heard.
The giggles behind him suggested he was not so lucky.
It was Ditty, however, who looked mortified.
And Henry knew why. Most doctors didn’t drive around in half-rotten old dog carts which had seen better days.
Much better. No doctors he knew lived in the small cottage he had managed to scrape enough funds to purchase, and not done a single thing to it since he had moved in.
Nor had they inherited a penniless duchy.
Most doctors were happy to overcharge their patients—like his lawyer brother with his own clients.
But not him.
Ditty’s cheeks were red but she looked up fiercely, and only then did Henry realise just how delicate she was. Easily breakable. And yet here she was, determined to face him.
You had to admire her.
Not that he did. Not that he could. Not that she wasn’t beautiful, and alluring in that almost bluestocking way that so many ladies had these days.
That intelligence, that fiery determination…it made parts of Henry feel—
‘I came here,’ she said firmly, ‘in the hunt—’
‘You’re on the hunt for a husband, are you?’ Avril said eagerly.
Henry watched Ditty’s cheeks turn even redder, if possible.
‘No—’
‘Because we have someone in mind we could recommend,’ said Mavis slyly.
Now even Henry’s cheeks were starting to burn. Really, they were outrageous!
‘I was hoping to find some people who could help me craft things. Knit, embroider, that sort of thing. Perhaps even construct a bower? I don’t know, I haven’t precisely—’
‘A bower?’ Henry repeated.
Goodness, she really could construct romance. He could see how that could be so romantic. Create an atmosphere, if you will.
Oh, hell. Had she impressed him?
‘Yes, a bower, preferably one that can be covered in roses,’ Ditty was saying. ‘Miss Vivienne has assured me she could—’
‘Did you say “embroider”?’ piped up an elderly woman’s voice.
‘No one like that here,’ Henry said hastily, grabbing Ditty’s arm again and wondering why he was suddenly making this sort of thing a habit. ‘Let me show you out—’
‘Henry Thomas Paisley, how dare you suggest I am not an expert embroiderer!’ snapped Mavis. ‘I helped bring you into this world, and I can just as soon—’
‘I didn’t say—’
‘You know full well my embroidery was praised by the old king himself, God rest his soul, when they came here for the waters thirty-odd years ago, and I’ll have you know my son’s neighbour’s daughter sent me a very pleasant note saying she had never seen anything so good in the whole of Brighton! ’ Mavis said in one breath.
Henry sagged. ‘Yes, but—’
‘And my knitting is second to none!’ Avril said with a wink at Ditty, who giggled. ‘If you want crafty people, Miss Oliver, look no further!’
Well, that was true, Henry had to admit—though it was not precisely what had been on his mind.
No, he had been thinking more of getting Ditty on her own. In one of the smaller drawing rooms, where they could talk…
Talk about what? What on earth was he thinking?
‘Oh, that’s wonderful!’ Ditty stepped away and Henry tried not to notice the warmth that left him as she did so. ‘I have so many ideas—but you will have your own, and I would love to know your opinion…’
Before he could stop them, before Henry could even think what he could possibly say, the three women were chattering away. Ditty had pulled out the empty armchair and turned it to face both Mavis and Avril, who were excitedly talking about some of their creations.
‘And seed pearls all the way down the hem, it was truly—’
‘And that was one of my lesser works, you understand! One of my best was…’
Henry sighed, but he could not help but smile. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Mavis and Avril so vibrant. And wasn’t that his responsibility? To make sure his residents didn’t just keep living, but had a wonderful time doing it?
Even if he wasn’t sure how to afford to keep the fires burning.
‘—and when young Henry bought me my birthday daffodils, I just knew I had to—’
‘That’s it! Mavis and Avril!’ Ditty said suddenly. She turned and Henry discovered most disconcertingly that her attention made his stomach flip over. ‘In the florist’s, she gave you two bouquets and said—’
‘Mavis and Avril,’ he said with a grin.
‘It was our birthdays and dear Henry never misses them, such a charming boy,’ said Mavis, throwing him a wink.
Henry sighed. Could they be more blatant?
‘But I thought…’ Ditty’s voice trailed away, hands twisting in her lap.
He could see precisely what she had thought, and breathed a sigh. At least now she would know he was far lonelier than she had expected.
Wait. Why was that supposed to be a good thing?
‘You thought I was courting two ladies,’ he said with a laugh. ‘At the same time.’
Ditty’s flush was doing something criminal to his heart rate. ‘Yes. Yes, I did.’
Henry was swiftly realising that earning Miss Ditty Oliver’s good opinion was rather heady.
She certainly was eyeing him differently, now that she knew he was a doctor, and a duke…
and it prompted a warm feeling in his chest that Henry did not like.
He’d loved a woman before who had been impressed by his title—but then, Ditty had not simpered, nor curtseyed low to reveal her bosom, nor touched his arm since hearing the news.
Quite the opposite, in fact. She had said she had come to speak to his residents, and so she was with bright eyes and a turn of phrase that made Henry smile.
Ditty gazed over at him, her cheeks still had that pink glow. ‘How precisely—’
‘Enough about him, we’re talking crochet,’ Mavis said firmly. ‘What we can do is—’
‘I’ve got no hope of controlling you ladies, have I?’ Henry said over the chatter, still reeling from the direction of his thoughts. Still wondering what it all meant.
The three ladies halted, turned to him and said in one voice, ‘No.’