The Rusticated Duchess Read Online Free

fascinated by this behemoth structure of stone that sat so brazenly on the windswept expanse of land. Her face chilled and numbed as she walked slowly and deliberately along the road, simply enjoying the sunshine and view. Glancing back at Colman, Gloria grimaced. She ought not go closer, but didn’t wish to go back. He scowled in reply and shrugged his shoulders, stopping ten feet behind her. He’d heard her injunction the first day months earlier about staying back and leaving her to her own remembrances and had not since interfered.
    Sighing, she pulled the cloak wrapping she wore over her pelisse tighter around her and trudged on. Gloria had ruined the skirt’s hem weeks before and now wore the same one for each such outing, having seen no sense in ruining a decent skirt hem for every walk. Her nose was tight with cold when she dragged her feet to a reluctant stop.
    She’d not wandered quite so close to the main gates before. The huge wooden beams bound together as gates standing open ten feet before her, and beyond that impressive sight rose a second higher wall that defended the keep. The current castle community resided in a small group of cottages to the south, eliminating the old custom of crowding cottages and workshops in the bailey, so she wasn’t surprised to see the old forecourt between the walls as a wide lawn that would be a rich green when spring truly arrived.
    Biting her lip, she began to swing around and turn away, only to find two tall horses pausing in the lane just behind Colman. The wind was strong enough and the sea a static roar that she had to excuse Colman from hearing them. She’d not heard them either.
    The surprise on her face must have shown, because Colman whirled around and drew his pistol almost before the men realised his intent.
    Colman stepped backward, towards her, and Gloria pulled her hood forwards, hiding her face from closer inspection. “State yer business,” Colman rumbled, his brogue menacing in the open air and yet clear enough that he’d be easily understood.
    Both strangers seemed surprised but more curious than threatened. Still, they kept their hands on the reins of their horses.
    Gloria considered them evenly in the moment of silence. She’d always been good at assessing and placing people, so she hoped the skill would be useful now. The man on the right wore well-fitted, tailored clothing, and rode a high-quality hunter. His nose was straight but his jaw was square. She guessed he was a steward or caretaker of some sort, as his mount had saddlebags so full they could barely stay fastened shut.
    On the left, however, was a man who eyed Colman through narrowed slits. He was too far for Gloria to identify the colour of his eyes but they were detailing what little he could see of Gloria with the same carefulness with which she inspected him. Under a hat, capes and gloves, and sitting high above her on a giant bay hunter, the man’s features were concealed despite Gloria’s inspection. In any event, his outerwear was of finer leather than the other and his boots were shined and definitely by Hoby. He was wary, not frightened or angry or even combative. His face was an inverted triangle that highlighted his prominent cheekbones and a nose so elegant that it might have come off a Greek statue.
    Gloria had always been rather proud of her small, feminine nose, so her disgruntlement at his perfect one seemed childish.
    “Colman,” she said clearly, loudly enough that he could hear her without looking away from the graven faces before her. “I don’t believe these gentlemen were pursuing us.”
    “As you say, our destination is inside the gate. May we be of assistance, miss?” The man on the grey horse—surely a steward, for his face showed the kiss of sun even in these winter months—was the one to speak, and Gloria reluctantly turned her face from the intriguing one examining hers.
    “It is kind of you to offer, but no. We were walking and simply came this