Chapter 330: Chapter Three Hundred And Thirty
The traveling carriage finally came to a complete stop.
The loud, rhythmic sound of the horses’ hooves faded away. The wheels crunched softly against the loose gravel of a quiet driveway. It was late in the afternoon, and the sun was just beginning to set. The sky was painted in beautiful, soft shades of pink and deep orange.
Rowan looked out the glass window. They had arrived.
Standing before them was a beautiful country cottage. It was built of gray stone, covered in green ivy. Small, neat flower bushes lined the front steps. Warm, welcoming light shone brightly from the windows, promising a cozy fire inside. It was entirely secluded, surrounded by tall, silent trees.
Rowan looked down at his lap. Delaney was still sleeping soundly. Her head rested comfortably against his leg, and her soft breathing was steady.
The carriage door opened with a soft click. The driver, a man who also served as a trusted guard for the Hamilton family, stepped down to the gravel. He reached out to lower the metal steps.
The driver opened his mouth to speak, ready to announce their arrival.
Rowan immediately raised his free hand. He placed a single finger directly over his own lips, signaling the driver to be quiet.
The driver understood instantly. He nodded his head, closed his mouth, and moved quietly to the back of the carriage to begin unpacking their luggage.
Rowan moved with care. He slipped his hands gently under Delaney’s back and beneath her knees. He lifted her slowly, ensuring her head rested securely against his broad shoulder. He carried her out of the carriage. She was as light as a feather in his strong arms.
He walked up the short stone steps and pushed the front door open with his shoulder.
Inside, the cottage was wonderfully warm. The smell of burning wood and sweet lavender completely filled the air.
As Rowan stepped into the small, clean entrance hall, a plump, kind-looking older woman appeared from the hallway. It was Mrs. Emma, the local housekeeper. She wore a neat gray dress and a perfectly clean white apron.
Seeing the Duke of Ford enter the cottage, Mrs. Emma’s eyes widened. She opened her mouth, ready to offer a loud respectful greeting to the newlyweds.
Rowan quickly shook his head. He looked at the housekeeper and gave her a firm, silent look of warning.
Mrs. Emma stopped immediately. She saw the sleeping Duchess resting peacefully in his arms. The housekeeper clamped her mouth shut and offered a deep silent curtsy instead.
However, the slight movement of Rowan walking through the door caused Delaney to stir just a little bit.
Delaney let out a very soft, sleepy murmur. She did not open her eyes. Instead, she turned her face inward, entirely seeking his warmth. She snuggled herself much deeper into his strong arms, resting her cheek completely against the dark fabric of his coat.
Rowan froze in his steps. He held his breath, terrified that he had woken her up. He waited for a few quiet seconds. Delaney let out a slow, contented sigh and fell right back into her deep sleep.
Rowan let out a quiet breath of relief. He nodded his head toward the wooden staircase, silently asking the housekeeper for directions. Mrs. Emma pointed a quiet finger toward the upper floor.
Rowan carried Delaney carefully up the wooden stairs. He walked into the main bedroom.
The room was perfect. A large comfortable bed sat right in the center, covered in clean white sheets and a thick woven blanket. A warm fire crackled softly in the stone fireplace, lighting the room with a gentle golden glow.
Rowan walked to the bed. He bent his knees slightly and gently laid Delaney down onto the soft mattress.
He stood beside the bed and looked at her.
She was still wearing her traveling bonnet, her white gloves, and her small leather shoes. He knew she would absolutely not be comfortable sleeping in her stiff daytime clothes.
With slow patient movements, Rowan began to help her.
First, he reached for her blue bonnet. He carefully untied the silk ribbons beneath her chin. He lifted the bonnet smoothly off her head, freeing her dark curls. He placed the bonnet neatly on a nearby chair.
Next, he picked up her right hand. He unfastened the tiny pearl buttons of her white glove. He pulled the glove off very gently, sliding it over her fingers one by one. He repeated the exact same gentle process with her left hand.
Finally, Rowan moved to the foot of the bed. He took hold of her traveling shoes. He untied the laces and slipped the shoes off her feet. He left her delicate white silk stockings perfectly in place to keep her feet warm against the cool evening air.
He stood up and looked at her. She looked comfortable now. He gently pulled the thick woven blanket completely over her body, tucking the edges securely around her shoulders. He made absolutely sure she was well rested and completely safe.
Rowan turned around and walked quietly out of the bedroom. He went back down the wooden stairs to formally meet the housekeeper.
Mrs. Emma was waiting for him in the small, clean kitchen.
"Welcome, Your Grace," Mrs. Emma said softly, offering another deep curtsy as he entered the room.
Rowan stopped and offered a very polite, proper bow of his head. He was a Duke who respected the hard-working people who managed his homes.
"You must be Mrs. Emma," Rowan said, his deep voice carrying a kind, respectful tone.
Mrs. Emma nodded her head, offering a warm, motherly smile.
"Pleasure to meet you," Rowan spoke smoothly.
"The pleasure is entirely mine, Your Grace," Mrs. Emma replied quickly. She folded her hands neatly over her white apron. "Mr. Simmons has briefed me on my work here. He has told me all about you and your wife’s specific preferences for meals and cleaning. If there is something you do not like, or if you would want me to change anything at all, please let me know immediately."
Rowan nodded his head. "I am sure everything will be perfect, Mrs. Emma."
Seeing that her new master was satisfied, Mrs. Emma walked over to a small wooden table. She began packing her personal things into a woven basket, preparing to leave for the night.
"There is a large tray of food waiting for you in the kitchen," Mrs. Emma explained softly, pointing toward the cast-iron stove in the corner of the room. "There is roasted chicken, fresh bread, and a warm soup. They are currently resting on top of a low-burning coal to keep them hot for whenever you and Her Grace are ready to eat and i have also prepared a very hot back, it should be warm by the time Her Grace wakes up."
She turned back to Rowan, her face completely serious.
"And please be really careful with the tray, Your Grace," Mrs. Emma warned him kindly. "It will most definitely be hot to touch."
Rowan smiled at her genuine concern.
"Thank you so much, Mrs. Emma," Rowan replied warmly. "You have done wonderful work today. Have a safe walk back to the village."
Mrs. Emma smiled brightly. She picked up her basket. "Goodnight, Your Grace. I will return early tomorrow morning to prepare your breakfast."
She curtsied one last time and left the cottage, closing the back door quietly behind her.
