The Contract Duchess, a Regency Romance: Key To My Heart Book 1

Chapter 6 - Derrick

After he nearly tripped over the edge of the rug for the ninth time, Derrick could no longer deny that he was nervous. Inviting himself to tea the same day as the will reading pushed the bounds of propriety, but he possessed little patience to wait for the inevitable. One way or another, this tangle with Angie needed sorting, and the looming deadline mandated the conversation occur sooner, rather than later.

After he entrusted Will with his letters, he began to tread back and forth, pausing only when the midday meal arrived, brought by a kitchen maid; her presence confirmed Will's continued absence, which pressed deeper into his frayed nerves. Though he perched on his desk chair as he consumed the repast, his body refused to be still: his legs bounced in a rhythm that would challenge the most practiced marcher, and his weight shifted as though he were a young child waiting for the opportunity to relieve himself. For a usually decisive and composed gentleman, this struggle to control his own body disturbed him so he could not eat more than half of what he had been served. Receiving a response to his missive should ease his restlessness, he assured himself as he rose and resumed his measured pacing.

The small clock on the mantle read nearly one o'clock in the afternoon when Will knocked on the study's door a moment before letting himself into the room. He bore an envelope with the Hollins family seal, and he gave Derrick a knowing smile as he placed it on a small silver tray on the left front corner of the large desk, as he did with all incoming correspondence.

"Should I wait for a reply, sir?" he asked.

Derrick scowled at him and directed his agitated feet to the desk and his overstuffed chair behind it. He snatched up the letter as he sank into the comfortable cushions of the dark green chair. He slid out the top drawer and grasped the mother-of-pearl handle of his favorite letter opener, the slim blade a gift from his mother. The sharp blade and a flick of his wrist opened the flap of the note without hesitation, and he unfolded the single page to read. As he absorbed the contents, his anxiety grew stronger, with a dash of confusion for good measure. The script was unfamiliar, the broad simple strokes most likely the work of a man, an impression firmed up by short succinct sentences without a hint of whimsy. They extended an invitation to tea at the Hollins residence at three, with a strong warning against arriving early, lest he be asked to wait outside.

So many questions whirled about his brain, he needed to put the paper down on the desk and close his eyes to address them. Why might he, a duke in all but official title, be kept waiting outside for the offence of an early arrival? Was something the matter with their receiving room, or had they previously engaged another important visitor for the foregoing hour and could not cancel? Why had Angie not written herself, rather than engaging a servant or other man to draft her communication? Did she dictate the abrupt phrases presented here, or were they the creation of the stranger who penned them? No answers came, and he felt his unease burgeoning rather than releasing him from its tense grip.

"Is there a reply, sir?" Will asked again, ever the attentive servant. "Or something else you need?"

Derrick sighed and reclined his head against the top of the chair back without opening his eyes. A change of clothes and a comb through his hair would go a long way toward improving his appearance and his mindset. His almost-too-long dark auburn mane felt more tousled than current style allowed, the result of his hands pushing through it again and again as he roamed the room, and his waistcoat and shirt bore both wrinkles and the faint scent of sweat, obvious evidence of his restlessness. His station demanded a perfect appearance when outside his residence, and he preferred to prevent the descent of the gossips on his state of affairs for as long as possible. When his gaze met Will's, the butler gave him a slight smile and a swift nod before he could speak.

"I will see that a fresh set of clothes and a full pitcher of water await you in your chambers momentarily, sir." With that, he vanished and left Derrick alone again.