Free The Keys of Love by Barbara Cartland Page A

wonder,” remarked Henrietta a little tartly, “it seems you rode him too hard.”
    The groom regarded her from under the brim of his hat. It was too dark for Henrietta to read his expression but she detected amusement in his voice when he replied,
    â€œ Over hill and dale, through wood and vale ,” he intoned, “ for many a weary mile . But in my defence, I know this noble creature well and there’s nothing he enjoys more than a long and challenging gallop.”
    â€œIs he the Duke’s horse?” she asked carefully.
    There was a pause before the groom replied, again in an amused tone.
    â€œHe is.”
    â€œBut you exercise him?”
    Another pause.
    â€œNo one but I.”
    â€œAnd the Duke is he a good Master?”
    The groom lifted his hat and scratched his head as if in deliberation.
    â€œWell now,” he said slowly, “he has been known to whip the cook if the pastry is too tough, but other than that there are no complaints.”
    â€œ Whip the cook ?” repeated Henrietta in horror.
    Was she about to be thoroughly disillusioned with regard to the character of the Duke?
    The groom registered her dismay and gave a laugh.
    â€œDon’t let me discourage you from applying for a post at Merebury, if that’s why you’re here. It’s a generally happy environment and the servants rarely leave.”
    Henrietta drew herself up, somewhat piqued that she should be mistaken for someone seeking employment at Merebury. She had forgotten that she was wearing Nanny’s distinctly old and tattered shawl.
    â€œI’m not seeking work,” she retorted a little stiffly. “I am a guest of the Duke.”
    The toss of her head that accompanied these words dislodged the shawl it slipped to reveal her blushing face.
    The groom stared a second and then gave a whistle.
    â€œA guest, eh? Lucky Duke, to have such a pretty visitor all to himself.”
    Henrietta blushed a deeper red.
    â€œOh, I’m not the only guest,” she admitted quickly.
    â€œYou’re not?” responded the groom softly, his eyes lingering on her features, seeming to drink them in. “No, of course not. You didn’t travel all this way alone.”
    â€œIndeed not. There are lots of us.”
    â€œ Lots of us?”
    â€œThe orchestra.”
    She heard him sharply draw in a breath. He seemed disconcerted for a moment and then he breathed out.
    â€œI see. So you are not ?”
    Henrietta regarded him questioningly.
    â€œNot who?”
    The groom hesitated, then turned away and began to loosen the horse’s bridle.
    â€œNo great matter. It’s just I thought you might be another young lady that the Duke is expecting.”
    â€˜ He means Romany Foss ,’ thought Henrietta with a plunge in her heart.
    She put out her hand to the horse, finding comfort in the velvety flesh of his neck.
    â€œWell, I’m Hen Harrietta Reed, and the Duke was not expecting me at all.”
    â€œNo?” murmured the groom.
    Henrietta waited to see if the groom would divulge his name, but it was not forthcoming so she decided to ask.
    â€œSir we have spoken for some minutes and I do not know what name you go by.”
    â€œMe? Oh, I’m er Joe. Now if you’ll excuse me, Miss Reed, I must get Gawain to his stable.”
    â€œGawain,” whispered Henrietta.
    He heard her and hesitated.
    â€œYou like horses?”
    â€œYes. But I have not ridden in a long while.”
    He seemed to consider carefully before he spoke.
    â€œWell, perhaps I might be allowed to remedy that.
    Would you like to ride out early tomorrow?”
    Henrietta drew in her breath.
    â€œYes, oh, yes. I would. Only ”
    â€œOnly what?” Joe asked her gently.
    â€œOnly would the Duke approve?”
    Joe looked at her gravely.
    â€œThe Duke would be delighted. Come at seven in the morning and I shall make sure there is a mount saddled and waiting for