A Governess for the Brooding Duke(89)

“Yes, I am here.”



“But I do not understand. I do not understand how you came to be here, Your Grace.” Georgette knew that she was blushing quite violently.



Of course, it was largely due to the shock of seeing him there. Not only seeing him in Beddgelert, the last place on earth she might expect to see him, but seeing him at all when she thought, deep down, that she might never see him again.



And that was the truth; Georgette had suffered the most dreadful notion that she might never set eyes upon him again as long as she lived. The awful thought had been with her from the very moment she had walked away from Draycott Hall and climbed into the carriage. It had been with her for the dreadful nights she had spent at the inn wondering what she ought to do next. And it had been with her for every mile that had passed between Oxfordshire and North Wales. And now there he was, standing right in front of her.



He was wearing the rich brown tailcoat and waistcoat which suited him so well, and she thought him at that moment to be the most handsome man she had seen in all her life. And there was something about his demeanour which was so very familiar to her, almost comforting. It was the slightly lost air of the man who was perhaps just a little more awkward than a Duke ought to be. And it was the man she had fallen in love with.



“Miss Darrington, I wanted to apologize,” he said quite simply, his blue-green eyes fixing hers most securely.



“You came all the way to Wales to apologize?” Georgette said incredulously and then, quite without warning, she began to laugh. “Oh, Your Grace, please forgive me. I did not mean to laugh at you. It simply seems like such a terribly long way to come to say sorry.” And once again, she laughed.



“I am very much reminded of that day in the woodland on the edge of Draycott. You laughed at me then also.” He smiled at her, and she was greatly relieved that he did not seem to have taken offense.



In truth, she almost could not trust her senses and wondered if she had quite imagined that he had walked into the room and was standing there before her in the beautifully cosy drawing-room in the house at Beddgelert.



“Do you remember? I had blundered my way through the conversation and had inadvertently said all manner of things which, although they had not been intended, could quite easily have caused offense. And as I tried to apologize, you laughed at me.”



“I remember,” Georgette said, finally getting control of herself once more. “And I am as sorry now as I was then, Your Grace; you must believe me.”



“But you have no need to be sorry, Miss Darrington,” he said and suddenly smiled so broadly that she felt herself a little weak. It was truly the most beautiful smile she had ever seen in her life, and she could hardly catch her breath. “Because I very much enjoy your laughter, MissDarrington. When it presents itself, it is almost always unguarded and, therefore, can be trusted entirely. It is as easy to tell when you are amused as it is to tell when you are angry.”



“But I am rather afraid, Your Grace, that you have seen more of one than the other,” she said, a little chagrined.



“It is true that I have seen more of your anger and annoyance than I have seen of your laughter, but I rather think that the fault in that case is mine and not yours.”



“Not entirely, Your Grace. In truth, I have blundered myself at times, and it is only with hindsight that I see it. But I hope that my simple act of recognition of my faults shall serve as a thorough apology.”



“There is nothing for which you must apologize, nothing at all. You simply gave me the truth most decidedly, and I must openly admit that I have never met anybody like you in my life.”



Georgette hardly knew what to say. In truth, she was not sure that she wanted to hear any more for fear that his words were not perhaps as complimentary as they might at first seem. “And if I had not met you, Miss Darrington, I might have wandered in a fog of confusion for the rest of my days,” he concluded.



“Your Grace, I hardly know what to say,” Georgette said somewhat shyly.



In her heart, she knew that she had longed for him to hold her in such high regard and had longed to hear such praise from him.



“And now you have come all this way to Wales to uncover yet more truth,” he said, and she began to wonder quite how he felt about that.



After all, she had come to the home of his sister without any authorisation from him at all, and he would be quite within his rights to be most terribly angry with her. Even though Lady Lyndon had given her written authority to look through the house as she wished, surely the Duke was the one who had the final say as to what did and did not happen within the four walls in which they now stood.