Secret Confessions 0f The Enticing Duchess (Steamy Historical Regency)
Page 32
A pale pink flushed into her cheeks. “You would do that?”
“It would bring you more comfort and a better riding experience. I see no reason not to, My Lady.”
“You are a curious individual, Edward.”
He dipped his gaze. “I am sorry if I have offended in any way.”
“Not at all, I simply find you rather interesting. It is not every young man who would suggest such a thing. In all my two-and-twenty years, I do not believe Danson has ever offered me the same courtesy you have today.” An amused chuckle rippled sweetly from her throat, drawing his eye to the slight movement along her neck as she swallowed. The curve of it reminded him of a swan, elegantly observing the pool upon which it swam.
“I will arrange it in secret for you, My Lady.”
“Thank you, Edward.” Her smile sent a spread of warmth through his chest. “You know, I rather wish I had suffered a bout of amnesia, for then I could forget everything that goes on within those walls.” She nodded towards the house with a sad glint in her eyes.
“Something troubles you, My Lady?”
She tilted her head from side to side. “The usual complaints of a young lady in my position.”
“I cannot pretend to know, My Lady.”
“Nor should you,” she replied, visibly brushing away her woes. “Riding often puts me in a thoughtful mood. It is nothing of concern. I should not have mentioned it.”
He longed to know more, but it was not his place to pry. He was merely here to prepare the horses and insure they were properly fed, watered and cleaned. Anything beyond that was out of his jurisdiction, at least until he could remember who he was.
“I should go back inside,” she said.
“Very well, My Lady.”
She looked to him. “Will you be here tomorrow?”
“Of course, My Lady.”
“Then I will see you on the morrow, Edward.”
He dipped his head as she walked away. I look forward to it…Lydia.
* * *
“You really must pay attention, Lydia,” Caroline scolded, as she read from her favored book of sermons.
It was her nightly regime to come and speak some scripture to Lydia and Mary, the youngest sister, but she could not concentrate that evening. Ordinarily, Lydia feigned interest, but she could not spare any thoughts for anyone but Edward. He had truly captured her mind, with his curious origins and his starkly-contrasted persona—he spoke like a gentleman but dressed like a commoner.
Indeed, she rather enjoyed the juxtaposition. And he had been so thoughtful in suggesting an alternative saddle.
“I am feeling rather distracted this evening, Sister,” Lydia apologized.
Caroline frowned. “Are you feverish? Shall I send for Doctor Bartlett?”
“The poor man has been back and forth to this house more times than a ripsaw. I would not wish to disturb him again, for something as trifling as a slight headache,” Lydia replied. Truly, she did feel slightly feverish, though she knew it was no malaise that brought the heat to her skin.
“It is likely your sermons, Caroline, boring her senseless,” Mary quipped. At fifteen, she cared less for scripture than Lydia did. She lay on Lydia’s bed, holding a book close to her nose, wearing a mischievous grin on her face.
“Piety is nothing to turn one’s nose up at,” Caroline replied sharply. “The pair of you could do with a good deal more of the Lord in your lives.”
Lydia smiled and walked to the window of her bedchamber, where she gazed out across the inky landscape. As fortune would have it, her bedchamber looked out upon the stables. A lamp still glowed in one of the stable windows, allowing her to picture Edward walking about beneath, undertaking his final rounds before he turned in for the night.
“Please, continue with James Fordyce—I would be interested to hear what he has to say,” Lydia urged, as she sat up in the window nook. Caroline meant well, and always had her sisters’ best interests at heart, but she often overdid it with the talk of purity. Suddenly, a shadow moved across the stable side-door, bringing a small smile to her face.
“I am glad one of you is showing some enthusiasm,” Caroline retorted. “Although, I confess, I did not expect it to be you, Lydia.”
“Am I so far beyond redemption, Caroline?” Lydia chuckled to herself.
“With those inappropriate books beneath your bed, I should say you are not far from it.”
Lydia turned to her. “I will have you know that those are for educational purposes only. I seek to improve my Greek and Latin, so that I might make some dull Duke exceedingly proud one day. He can parade me in front of his peers and have me recite ancient languages in a most fluent tongue.”
“Your Greek and Latin are already perfect, Lydia. Mother and Father may believe your excuses, but I do not. You would do well to replace them with some sermons. I can recommend several, if you would be interested?”
Lydia grinned. “I think I will stay with my selections for now, dear Sister.”
“Much good may they do you,” Caroline muttered.
“I should like to read Lydia’s books!” Mary shrieked, as she shuffled to the edge of the bed and dangled down. Caroline crossed the room and pulled her back onto the bed, giving her a smarting slap on the wrist as she continued with her nightly sermons.
Lydia’s gaze stretched towards the expansive fields that reached the very horizon. She paused upon a figure that stood close to the riverbank, half-bathed in the silvery light of the full moon. At first, she thought she was imagining things, or envisioning a tree that had somehow warped into a person, prompting her to blink rapidly to clear her vision.
There was no mistaking it. A man stood on the edge of the river, shrouded in a dark hood. A shiver of fear shot through her body as the figure lifted his head, his shadowed gaze lifting to meet hers. Even at such a distance, she could feel the malevolence brimming from the unknown figure.
She turned quickly. “I think there may be a stranger in the grounds.” Her voice trembled as she spoke.
Caroline snorted. “Yes, we know all about the new stable boy, found half-nude in the bushes. A disgraceful affair. Why father has thought to give him employ here, I cannot understand it.”
Lydia shook her head. “No, there is another man. Come and see!”
Mary and Caroline rushed over, seeing the fear in Lydia’s eyes. However, as she turned her gaze back out toward the riverbank, the figure had vanished…as if he had never been there.
“What a fevered imagination you have, Lydia,” Caroline chided. “You see, Mary, what reading too many novels may do to a young lady’s mind?”
“But…he was right there.” Lydia prodded her finger against the glass.
“I think you need your rest, Sister.” Caroline shook her head and wandered away from the window.
“But he was right there,” Lydia repeated, in a hushed whisper.
Mary cast her a sympathetic glance. “I believe you, Lydia. Probably one of the cottagers on their way home, taking a swifter path along the river.”
She frowned. “Perhaps.”
No…I know what I saw. There was a man there, and he did not mean well. But how could she convince anyone, when the shadow had vanished into the night?
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Also by Olivia Bennet
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Some other stories of mine:
Daring Fantasies of a Noble Lady
Wicked Temptations for the Seduced Duchess
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Olivia Bennet
About the Author
Having obtained a degree in Journalism, but with an affinity for literature and creative writing, Olivia Bennet knew from a young age that her future lay in the romantic ideals of the past. With a fascination for the Regency era and a good romance, she started her career as a historical romance author the old-fashioned way: with pen and paper.
Born in rural Devon, Olivia draws inspiration from the vast farmlands of the British countryside and the people living in the surrounding villages. An avid artist, she takes her sketchbook everywhere with her and captures the beauty of nature, which she then incorporates into her books.
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