Law held up his hands. “I don’t see that there’s anything we can do. Don’t trouble yourself. We’ll just have to make the best of it. To that end, I don’t want either of you discussing the purpose of our journey with anyone. Is that clear?” He pinned his gaze on Yates, for he was the one with a tendency to flap his lips, as he’d demonstrated earlier in the parlor.
“I wouldn’t presume to speak of such things,” Holden said.
Law arched a brow at Yates, who crossed his arms and pursed his lips. “I won’t say anything either. I hardly see how it signifies.”
“I would like to enjoy this unexpected…sojourn,” Law said. “I’d prefer not to think of obligations, and I expect you to comply with my instruction.”
Yates made a face that looked as though he’d sucked on a lemon. “If you insist.”
“I do.” Law often found Yates frustrating, but the man did as he was told, likely because his former employer, Law’s father, wouldn’t have tolerated anything else.
“If the coach manages to be repaired in the next few days, you could drive it,” Holden suggested, thankfully changing the subject.
“Absolutely not!” Yates’s blue eyes bulged. “He’s a duke!”
Holden gave the valet a surly stare, but said nothing.
Law worried that they would be sharing a room. They were vastly different in temperament. Whereas Yates would raise his voice and assert his displeasure, Holden would suffer in silence and ignore most irritations. Law just wasn’t sure how long the coachman could ignore Yates, who could be the biggest irritation of all.
“I happen to be a duke who can drive a coach, and I will if necessary. I will also assist with the repair if I am able.” However, Law had warmed to the notion of staying for the week and postponing the introduction to his potential bride. “Furthermore, I am a duke who can unpack his own belongings, which I have already nearly completed.” He gave Yates a smug look.
The valet, in turn, appeared horrified.
Turning, Law went to the tray the maid had delivered earlier. It held tea and biscuits and some pretty little cakes decorated like flowers and crowns. He picked up one of the cakes and took a bite. Almond and mace danced across his tongue. Swallowing, he waved what was left at Holden and Yates. “If these cakes are any indication of the cook’s talents, we are in for a culinary treat.”
After eating the rest of the cake and tamping down the urge to devour what remained on the tray, Law went to the door. Turning back toward his retainers, he said, “You should rest—after you eat those cakes, of course. Yates, please take care of Holden since his arm isn’t terribly mobile, and don’t be gruff about it.” He gave the valet his best ducal stare, then departed.
Taking the stairs down to the first floor, he paused as he saw Miss Campion walking from the chamber situated across the corridor from his. How…interesting to learn his room was so close to hers.
She looked quite different from earlier in the day when he’d mistaken her for the housekeeper. Her light brown hair had been restyled with no errant curls, which was a shame. He rather liked that aspect of her appearance. Actually, he’d found her quite attractive, and when she’d landed in his arms after losing her balance on the ladder, he’d felt her lush curves. He’d experienced a rush of heat before she’d moved away from him.
Her emerald gaze met his, and the nostrils of her small, button-shaped nose flared slightly. She walked toward him, and he gave her an appreciative nod. “Miss Campion. You look lovely.”
She glanced down at herself. He noticed she’d done that earlier too, as if she were self-conscious about her garments. Instead of the earlier sober gown with its muddy hem, she wore a smart, rose-colored walking dress. He would not have mistaken this version of her for a servant.
In retrospect, he wasn’t sure how he’d erred. She possessed an air of confidence and authority that he found most alluring. Hers was not the demeanor of an employee. No, she was the one issuing commands.
“Thank you, Your Grace. How are your valet and coachman?”
“They are doing well, thank you. I left them to fight over the delicious cakes on the tea tray.”
Miss Campion smiled, and Law was struck by just how pretty she was. There was a genuine warmth and care to her that was so unlike most of the women he met in London. It wasn’t that those women weren’t genuine or warm, but that they didn’t allow themselves to be when meeting a duke. He generally believed that when he encountered most people, he was, more often than not, interacting with an untrue version of that person. At least that was what he’d observed with his father over the years. He’d seen gentlemen behave a certain way in front of him and then in a more relaxed fashion when the duke wasn’t there or paying attention.
“Mrs. Rowell does make the best cakes,” Miss Campion said. “It’s why she supplies them for the welcome reception. She started several years ago, and I wonder what will happen when she decides to retire from doing so.”
Law noted that Miss Campion seemed more pleasant than earlier. Or, more accurately, less harried. “I do apologize for causing trouble with our arrival. It is most inconvenient of us to disturb your plans for the festival.”
She blinked at him. “That is…thank you. It’s very kind of you to say so.”
“I also wanted to apologize for thinking you were the housekeeper.” He realized he hadn’t met the housekeeper and presumed they didn’t have a butler. “Where is she, by the way? I should like to thank her for accommodating our intrusion.”
“I’m not surprised you assumed I worked here. I certainly looked as if I do, and well, that’s because I do. We do not have a housekeeper, and before you ask, there is also no butler.”
Then it was no wonder she was left to clean the front door. Still, one of her brothers should have helped her. Or better yet, they could have done the task entirely. “It did seem as if you manage the household, but I didn’t imagine you wouldn’t have a housekeeper. Isn’t that challenging?”
She shrugged. “We haven’t had one since I was twelve, when Mrs. Evans died.”
“I see.” He wanted to ask more questions, such as where her mother was, but he assumed she too had passed away and didn’t want to bring that up when Miss Campion was clearly about to embark on a social occasion. “Where you are going?”
“To the welcome reception for the matchmaking festival.”
Law also wanted to ask more questions about the festival. Since he would apparently be staying here, he may as well make the most of the situation. He had an idea. “I’ve never been to a matchmaking festival. Perhaps I could join you?”
She hesitated. “Ah, yes, I suppose you could. I confess I’m surprised you would want to. I thought you were keen to be on your way to something important.”
“Since that is not an option, I’m not going to spend my time fretting about it. I’d much rather learn about your festival. Would you mind if I just fetch my hat and gloves from my chamber?”
“Certainly. I’ll wait for you downstairs.”
“Oh, and I owe you one more apology,” Law said. “I should not have doubted the information you provided me regarding our situation. You were trying to be helpful, and I was being…difficult.”