“And if not the young ladies,” she went on, “then their match-making mamas or alliance-seeking papas. You’ll need to stay sharp to avoid their snares.”
Max shuddered. All the more reason he hoped to be headed home once the new heir of Albemarle made his appearance.
“Speaking of,” Kate said after polishing off the last bite of pastry on her plate. “The Earl of Montgomery sent round a note. He plans to call this afternoon and wishes for you to make yourself available to him.”
Max didn’t groan, but he wanted to.
The Earl of Montgomery had been the late duke’s mentor in Parliament, and should Kate’s baby be a boy, was set to oversee the estates until the new duke was of age to run them on his own.
Montgomery had also tasked himself with familiarizing Max with all of the responsibilities of the dukedom, should the child be a girl instead. He could not be put off.
Then the way Kate had announced Montgomery’s visit gave him pause. They’d been speaking of alliance-seeking papas… “Speaking of?”
Kate nodded. “Oh yes, Lord Montgomery has long wished for a ducal alliance. Had his daughters not been too young when Samuel and I married, I daresay Lord Montgomery would have physically shoved me into the Serpentine to secure the duke for one of them.”
Max thought about what the young lady in the park had said under her breath. Because I’ve been ordered to land a duke.
Could the woman he’d met be…? No, not likely. He’d met the earl several times these past weeks and he couldn’t imagine that such an exotic beauty had been sired by such a plain-looking Englishman.
It was more likely that several young ladies—and their parents—had the potential new duke in their matrimonial crosshairs already, sight unseen. Max swallowed. As if he didn’t have enough reasons not to want the dukedom, the idea of being ruthlessly pursued for a title and not because of who he was as a person…
It seemed like he would have to be more careful. He already kept to himself, didn’t go out in society, and wore only his own wardrobe—that of a poor-ish country barrister—even though both Kate and Montgomery had tried to press him into visiting the tailor first thing. He’d laughed them off, saying he didn’t wish to spend any of his new nephew’s inheritance, but the truth of it was, he just didn’t want to put on any trappings of the dukedom—lest it trap him.
Unreasonable, yes. Superstitious even. But there it was.
“I believe the eldest daughter is recently engaged, but I imagine Lord Montgomery is practically giddy that his youngest might have a chance at you,” Kate finished.
Max shook his head firmly. “Not if I can help it.”
The face of the woman from the park this morning flashed through his mind. Maybe if it were she… No, not even then. She was already after a duke. He could never trust that her feelings were real if they were to meet as who they truly were.
Besides, apparently the real danger was that he’d be inveigled into a meeting with Montgomery’s daughter, and soon. If he were a father, he’d make sure his own chit got her introductions before the rest of the pack even sniffed the potential duke out.
He’d have to do everything he could to avoid the Earl of Montgomery’s daughter, whoever she was.
Chapter 3
“Duke! Duke, come back here!”
The little spaniel ignored Emmaline as he bounded off around the turn in the footpath, barking excitedly at something or other that had caught his attention.
“Want me to go after him this time, miss?” Molly asked, but her pained expression made it clear that she was hoping Emmaline would decline.
“No,” Emmaline sighed. “I daresay we’ll catch up to him eventually.”
The pup had the vigor of three of her father’s hounds. He tore around the house like a whirling dervish, constantly under someone’s feet. Just this morning, one of her mother’s favorite Limoges vases had been a casualty of Duke’s boundless energy. The countess had been only too happy to send Emmaline and the puppy—properly chaperoned by her maid, of course—off to get his exercise somewhere else. Anywhere else.
So she’d chosen to return to Hyde Park.
And if she’d selected a footpath along the southern end of the park rather than staying to the eastern edge nearer her home in Mayfair, so what? It most certainly wasn’t because that was the direction the man from yesterday had departed toward, and she hoped she might see him again.
No, it wasn’t. Not at all.
Up ahead, Duke’s barks ceased abruptly. Too abruptly.
“Oh,” Emmaline exhaled an indulgent, if exasperated, breath. “What has that little rascal gotten into now? I swear, he’d best not have let those geese chase him into the lake again or we very well may leave him there.”
Still, she picked up her skirts and hurried her steps, just in case he needed rescuing.
She huffed a laugh as she ran. When her father had ordered her to catch a duke, she was quite certain this wasn’t what he’d had in mind.
As she came around the bend, her feet stilled and her heart leapt into her throat, where it fluttered wildly.
For there was Duke, happily content in the arms of her handsome stranger.
The dog’s long tail swished with enthusiasm as he heaped puppy love upon his obviously remembered savior.
Emmaline’s heart seemed to beat in the same eager rhythm upon seeing the man again—which was ridiculous, she knew. Nothing could come of their acquaintance. They weren’t even acquainted, for that matter.
And yet…she couldn’t explain the feeling that bubbled inside her chest, rising with the effervescent sting of good champagne. She only knew she liked it. It made her feel alive.
The man looked up at her then, and a smile broke over his face.
“I thought this fellow looked familiar,” he said, “though I hardly recognized him not soaking wet and covered in mud.” He ruffled Duke’s fur affectionately. “You clean up nicely, young master Duke.”
As do you, Emmaline thought—but thankfully she did not say the words aloud this time. Her cheeks pinked as she remembered her faux pas of yesterday.
Because I’ve been ordered to land a duke.
How shallow she must have sounded, how petulant. She could only blame the upset that had driven her to the park and the excitement of Duke’s rescue for her thoughtlessness.
She could hardly expect anyone who lived outside her gilded cage to understand.
After all, who wouldn’t want to marry a duke?
Emmaline smiled at the man who so patiently accepted her puppy’s slobbery adoration. Her heart melted just a little, then twinged with regret. Why couldn’t she be free to fall in love with someone like him—a man who would never become a duke, but whose heart was noble and kind? Why couldn’t that be all that mattered?
“He does, rather,” she said, admiring Duke’s silky white-and-chestnut coat, his long fluffy ears, and his undocked tail. The pup’s eyes closed in seeming bliss as he leaned into the man’s long-fingered strokes. The gentleman’s hands held her mesmerized for a moment, wondering what it might feel like if she were the one being touched thus—
She shook herself from her impure thought. What had they been discussing? Oh yes, Duke. Cleaning up nicely.
“After no less than three baths,” she said, her nose scrunching at the remembered smell, “and a very thorough brushing.”
The man’s rich laughter rolled over her. “I’ve no doubt. I required some extra grooming myself after a swim in that foul water.” He shuddered. “The geese can have it all to themselves, as far as I’m concerned.”
Emmaline arched a black brow. “Then we’d have to call it foul fowl water.”
He blinked at her, then his eyes crinkled in a smile as he dipped a quick nod in acknowledgment of her sad little pun. “Indeed.”
She smiled back at him, inordinately pleased. “Those birds are a menace,” she said. “You must have thought me a madwoman, chasing after them like that.”
He bent
to lower Duke to the ground, and the puppy pranced happily at their feet. As the man straightened, the corner of his mouth lifted in a grin. “Not a madwoman. Though I must admit, as I didn’t see the pup in the lake at first, I did wonder what sent you flying across the field like Boadicea.”
His grin had spread over his whole face now, and Emmaline was struck by how much more handsome it made him.
“Boadicea?” She snorted.
“Well, if Boadicea were battling an army of geese rather than Romans.”
She laughed then, shaking her head.
“Jesting aside,” he said, “not everyone would bother themselves to help a person in trouble, much less an animal. I find you quite brave.”
The simple compliment struck her speechless. It also struck a chord inside Emmaline, reverberating through her with a low hum. In her life, much admiration had been shown her from gentlemen, but it always centered around how she looked—never about her as a person. Even her parents only had praise for the qualities they deemed would make her the most advantageous marriage.
She had no idea how to respond.
Luckily, Duke saved her. The puppy barked in protest that their attention wasn’t being paid to him, before running in circles around them in great bounds and pounces to ensure it was. Both she and the man laughed at the dog’s antics, and the moment passed.
Once he was satisfied that all was once again right with the world, the pup took off down the footpath, expecting the humans to follow. And they did, side by side, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
It certainly felt that way, Emmaline realized, even though it was anything but. Still, she found herself tongue-tied. Was it because she was unused to conversing with men outside of the aristocratic rules of engagement that had been drilled into her from birth? Or was it because she so desperately wanted this man to find her more than just a pretty face?
Whichever the reason, all she knew was that she wanted to keep talking with him.
“It’s turned out to be a lovely day for this late in the year,” she blurted, then nearly squeezed her eyes shut. Oh brilliant, Emmaline. He’s certain to find you fascinating now.
“It has,” her companion answered. “The sunshine is most welcome.”
After a few more steps—during which Emmaline discarded several topics of conversation as too frivolous or unsuitable or just not interesting enough—the man spoke again.
“This park is certainly a nice respite from the bustle of the City. This is only my second visit, and yet I already find myself partial to it.” After a long hesitation, he ventured, “Do you come here often?”
His voice lifted on the last word casually. Too casually. Emmaline’s heart picked up its pace. Was he making idle conversation, or had he returned here this morning hoping to see her, too?
“Not typically,” she answered. “At least not in November. Most years, we’ve retreated to the country by now.”
But not this year. After the Duke of Albemarle’s death last month, her father had elected to stay in town to help to handle the late man’s affairs. He’d insisted his family stay, as well. Emmaline suspected it was only to have her close at hand so that she might be introduced to the new duke at first opportunity, should the Duchess of Albemarle bear another girl—which was widely expected.
But Emmaline didn’t want to think of this maybe-duke now. She wanted only to think of the man by her side.
And if he were floating the question because he wished to know if he might see her again…
“However,” she said, glad that her voice rang with nonchalance even though she felt as though she might bubble over with nervous hope, “Duke loves it here.”
As if on cue, Duke cut across in front of them in pursuit of a fat red squirrel.
“And as you can see,” she continued with a wry grin, “he enjoys his exercise.”
Emmaline bit her lip, deliberating only a moment. She shouldn’t encourage anything between them. There was no hope of a future. And yet, she’d could just put her intention out there. It would be up to him if he chose to pursue it…
She turned her head toward him as they continued walking, catching and holding his gaze.
“I should bring him here every morning, don’t you think?”
* * *
Maxwell wasn’t a betting man, but if he were, he’d wager all that he had that he was being flirted with.
He suppressed a satisfied smile.
His young lady was awaiting an answer, so he flicked a glance to where Duke now pounced on some poor insect who’d chosen the unluckiest time to crawl by. “It does seem to be a fine idea.”
He wasn’t positive, but he thought her shoulders drooped a bit. Oh, she was interested. And she’d been hoping for a bit more encouragement.
He shouldn’t, of course. Regardless of his possibly impending dukedom, he had myriad things to do that were not walking in the park with a young lady, even if she was so lovely that she’d invaded his dreams last night as well as most of his waking thoughts since he’d met her.
And yet…
He returned his gaze to hers and lowered his voice. “I, too, am fond of my exercise—about this time every day, in fact. And I do believe Hyde Park will be the perfect place for my morning constitutionals whilst I am in town.”
She didn’t do nearly as good a job as he had at suppressing a smile of her own, which sent a small thrill coursing through him.
This was foolishness. He should take his leave, he knew. He had much to do at the Old Bailey, and the Earl of Montgomery was expected again this afternoon. But he simply didn’t want to go.
It wasn’t just the girl. It was this time, this in-betweenness. This beautiful creature flirted with him just because she wished to. If he were to become the duke, this might be the last time someone wanted to flirt with him and not ‘the duke!’.
He would hold on to that as long as he possibly could.
“Whilst you are in town?” she asked, shaking him from his thoughts. “Are you not from London, then?”
His chest tightened at her question, but he shook his head. News about Albemarle’s heir presumptive was likely already circulating around the members of society who still remained in the City. He’d wager that his home and career as a barrister were already fodder over tea and sherry. He didn’t wish for that business to encroach here. Not with her. He’d have to be careful what he said.
“No. I’m just visiting for a time,” he said.
“A holiday, then?” she asked, and damned if she didn’t sound disappointed that he might be returning home soon.
“No. I’m here for an extended period, for…” He thought a moment at how best to phrase it honestly, but vaguely. “For work.”
Her black brows inched toward each other in thought.
He realized his vagueness only served to confuse her.
“I mean to say, I’m being considered for a…a promotion. Of sorts.”
Damnation. That wasn’t much better.
She nodded at him, but he could tell she didn’t really understand. And why would she? Work, at least as it applied to a profession, wasn’t a part of her sphere.
Neither, for that matter, was a man like him.
And they both knew it.
Maxwell sighed. More unspoken weight in the air between him and a woman whose company he enjoyed.
It wouldn’t do. While he’d still have to hold much back, he wanted his time with this lady to be unburdened—insomuch as it could be. So he’d just come out with it.
“It hasn’t slipped my attention that in two meetings now, neither of us has offered so much as a first name in introduction.”
Her green eyes widened at his bluntness, and her cheeks bloomed a delicate pink. “I…I—”
He held up a hand. “You needn’t explain. I’m well aware of how the world works. I understand that you have many reasons for keeping your identity to yourself—one of which is that an association with someone like me would be unacceptable.” He
was, after all, a commoner, as far as she knew. And a complete stranger.
Her bow-shaped lips firmed in a disgruntled frown. “Unacceptable to some, perhaps.”
Her fierce tone reminded him once again of Boadicea—this time about to take on the unfairness of societal rules—but then she sighed as well.
“But, yes. My family would not approve.” Determination glinted in her eyes. “That won’t stop me from bringing Duke here every morning.”
Max nodded, understanding.
His young lady was enjoying her own bit of in-betweenness. If she truly had been ordered to ‘land a duke’ by her parents, he might be her tiny secret rebellion.
Oh, the irony.
Of the double-edged variety. If he didn’t become the duke, he’d have no chance with someone like her.
He also had the distinct feeling that she could make him wish for a dukedom he didn’t otherwise want.
He should run far and fast and not venture near Hyde Park again.
Yet even the thought kicked off his own tiny rebellion inside his chest.
“If we’re going to continue to meet, I must call you something,” he said. “Thinking of you as ‘the brave enchantress who so charmed me that I leapt into the Serpentine for her’ might be nice, but it’s rather cumbersome.”
The combination of blush and utterly feminine smile that crossed her face shot heat straight through him.
Duke trotted back toward them then, giving him an idea.
“Shall I call you Duchess? After all, you are Duke’s mistress.”
Her smile pursed, and she gave a quick shake of her head. “Never Duchess.”
Max wanted to kick himself. Of course not Duchess. The reminder would intrude on her in-betweenness. His as well.
Yet it fit her perfectly—her regal beauty, her strength of spirit. If he were to become the duke, wouldn’t she be exactly the type of duchess he would wish for?
“Boadicea, then?” he offered.
Dukes by the Dozen Page 63