Free The Keys of Love by Barbara Cartland

news.
    Yes, she thought in sudden triumph, that must be it!
    She had seen his photograph at some Society event or other and his vivid image had lodged in her brain.
    Such intimacy with his image, however, gave her no rights at all concerning the actual Duke.
    She was in too much turmoil to sleep and glanced over at the window. Although it could only be around four o’clock, it was still winter and the light was fading already.
    She wondered if she might wander out and take a stroll in the gardens.
    She went to her door, opened it and peeped out. All was quiet. The travellers would be weary and ensconced in their rooms until supper.
    She was sure that no one would see her and was not sure that it mattered if they did.
    Since the trunks were not yet unpacked there was no coat or cloak for Henrietta, so she then tiptoed into Nanny’s room and looked around.
    Mrs. Poody had been given sumptuous quarters as well and no doubt she was thrilled.
    Nanny’s shawl lay on the bed where she was at this very moment snoring valiantly away.
    Henrietta bent low, gently picked up her shawl and slipped quietly out of the room.
    She did not want to go out by the front door and so she turned left in the corridor instead of right. Her instincts were correct and she found herself at the top of a flight of narrow steps that led, she guessed, to the back of the house.
    At the bottom of the steps there was a stone-flagged corridor. Loud voices and the rattle of utensils alerted her to the fact that the kitchen was nearby. She hurried past a silver room and hesitated before a large nail-studded door.
    Glancing behind her, she pushed the door open and emerged into a cobbled courtyard with an archway.
    She was just starting towards the archway when she was arrested by the clatter of hooves behind her.
    A horse and rider swept into the courtyard. Barely had the horse halted than the rider leaped from the saddle.
    He gave his horse a reassuring pat on the neck and then stood drawing off his gloves.
    In the deepening shadows Henrietta could not make out his features, which were hidden under his hat.
    He was tall and somewhat dishevelled, as if he had ridden at full pelt over very rough ground. His boots were muddy and his breeches were spattered all over.
    He took off his hat to wipe his brow with the back of his hand and Henrietta glimpsed his muddy face.
    It was obvious that he was a groom who was late returning from some errand he had been sent on.
    Tossing damp strands of hair back from his eyes, the groom clamped his hat back on and turned to his horse.
    He led the horse to the stone trough, but it was dry. Shaking his head, he looked round the courtyard.
    â€œWhere’s that boy ” he began and then his eyes alighted on Henrietta.
    â€œAh, you’ll do,” he called. “Will you please hold my horse for a moment while I fetch him some water?”
    Despite his status as groom, he had such command that Henrietta instantly obeyed.
    She stepped forward and took the reins. The horse turned its head and nuzzled her waist.
    â€œAha!” he laughed. “Mercy the laundry maid gives him sugar, so he thinks anyone in a dress will do.”
    He stalked away towards the stables.
    Henrietta wondered at the assurance of his gait, as if he was lord not only of the stables but also of the whole courtyard.
    It was too late to walk out now, thought Henrietta. She put her hand up and stroked the horse entrusted to her.
    It was a grey with a proud fierce eye obviously a thoroughbred and she wondered that the groom had been allowed to ride him.
    The groom was returning, his boots almost striking sparks from the cobbles.
    Water slopped from the large bucket he carried, but he did not seem to care. He deposited the bucket on the ground and the horse lowered his head eagerly.
    Henrietta and he stood silently as the horse drank.
    â€œHe was thirsty,” said the groom as his steed at last lifted its head from the bucket.
    â€œNo