last time he’d wanted to amaze anyone? When did he ever feel the need to show off? Him—a duke.
Jess didn’t seem to care that he was a duke. She saw beneath the gilded trimmings to the man. And she liked him just the same. Hell if that didn’t fill him with humble gratitude—and the need to give her relentless pleasure.
“That’s Carriford?” His eyebrows climbing up his forehead, Mr. Walditch stared out the window.
Noel glanced quickly from Jess to the window. Sure enough, the house emerged from the trees, rising grandly and with the dignity of an elder statesman who kept a prized place beside a king. The warm brick walls still held a glow from the day’s light, and though the building itself wasn’t massive like some of his other estates, it possessed a solemn grandeur that always struck him whenever he viewed it. A row of servants stood on the gravel drive, awaiting the arrival of the house’s master and his guests.
He took all this in within half a second. Jess was his main concern.
She gazed out the window, her eyes wide, her lips parted. Was that shock? Did she find the place to be too old-fashioned? If only he’d had time—he could have scheduled more improvements. Tear down a wall or two. Replace the old timbers with modern plaster in the style of Adams.
“It’s . . .” She leaned closer to the window and stared out. “Oh, Noel. It’s marvelous.”
Gratification coursed through him, almost obscuring the fact that she’d called him by his Christian name in front of Lady Haighe and Mr. Walditch. He was faintly aware of the two other occupants of the carriage exchanging glances.
“My mother thinks it gloomy,” he said, striving for nonchalance.
“It’s not. At all.” Jess brought her gaze back to his. “It’s something out of a fairy tale.”
“The knight and the farmer’s daughter?”
Lady Haighe and Mr. Walditch conversed with each other, and seemed to not have heard Noel’s carelessly made remark. Not that they’d understand its significance, but he should be more bloody circumspect.
“The very tale I was thinking of,” Jess murmured, smiling.
God, the things he wanted to do with her . . .
The carriage came to a stop in front of the house. A footman opened the door, and, summoning his ducal dignity, Noel stepped down. He helped Lady Haighe alight from the carriage, and then Jess.
As he greeted Gregory, the estate manager, and Vale, the butler, the second carriage arrived. The passengers emerged to gaze with admiration at the house and its staff.
Noel faced the assembled guests, careful not to let his gaze linger too long on Jess. “Gentlemen and ladies of the Bazaar, welcome to Carriford.”
Jess had actually stuck her hands beneath her thighs, pinning them to the carriage squabs, to keep from pointing out the selfsame landmarks that she’d observed not so long ago as she’d traveled to London from Lady Catherton’s home.
What if someone from her village had taken employment at Noel’s estate? One careless whisper could ruin everything in a matter of seconds.
She did not have to manufacture interest as they’d neared his estate—if for no other reason than he seemed to grow more and more animated the nearer they came to it. He was always sophisticated, ready with his dry wit. But she saw it in his shining eyes, in his ready smile, and the way he sat on the edge of the seat, his gaze constantly returning to her face.
He wanted her to like his home. She wanted to like it, too, wanted to like anything he gave to her, and surely that way was dangerous.
“Welcome to Carriford,” he said as she and the others assembled on the front drive.
Everyone, including Jess, made appreciative sounds. She couldn’t speak much beyond that because he lived in a sodding ancient manor that was as old as it was lovely.
He performed introductions. “This is Gregory, my estate manager. If you’ve any questions about the running of the place, he’s a font of knowledge.”
A Black man with silvering hair bowed. “My lords and ladies.”
Noel continued. “This is Vale, the butler.” A man dressed in severe dark clothing bowed. “And this estimable woman is Mrs. Diehl, the housekeeper.” A woman of surprising youthfulness curtsied, her freckles standing out against her fair skin.
“Should you require anything at all,” Mrs. Diehl said, “from baths to beer, Mr. Vale and I will do our utmost to see your every need fulfilled.”
Jess couldn’t stop herself from glancing at Noel. She did have one need