Ducal Encounters 02 - With the Duke's Approval

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by Wendy Soliman


  “You see, Lord Romsey.” She sent him a sparkling smile. “Having four brothers to rough and tumble with is not such a waste of time.”

  His lips quirked. “Evidently so.”

  “Nothing more than that?” Zach asked, frowning. “You have thus far only confirmed what we already knew. Surely, with all your contacts…”

  “Patience, Winchester. I have a small army of men combing through every document the Foreign Office possesses, as well as people making enquires about von Hessel’s personal circumstances. Something will come to light before much longer. In cases of such close scrutiny, something always does.”

  Zach nodded. “Right. I’m sure you know your business best.”

  “I do have some good news for Annalise.”

  “Oh, what is it?” Anna asked.

  “We located Betty’s owner. The landlord at the inn from whence you liberated her also acts as a horse dealer. He had acquired the mare with a view to selling her on, and was not best pleased she had been spooked by something and broke free of her halter rope. That is the explanation the grooms put about, presumably to cover up their incompetence. Pierce invented a story about the mare being found wandering in the nearby streets. Anyway, suffice it to say the landlord was happy to accept payment for her and leave the matter at that.”

  “I am sure you paid far more than she is worth,” Annalise replied. “You must allow me to compensate you.”

  Lord Romsey appeared affronted by the suggestion. “Certainly not!” His scowl gave way to one of his lopsided smiles. “Look upon her as a wedding present.”

  “I thank you for the gift of Betty,” Anna replied, without agreeing to look upon her as a wedding bequest. Lord Romsey was a diplomat. Presumably, he could read between the lines. “I have been to see her every day, and she seems to be settling very happily into her new home. She and I already get along famously, and I am longing to ride her. However, I thought it best not to let her be seen until I was sure I would not be taken in charge for horse theft.”

  “No danger of that, now.” Lord Romsey’s indulgent smile heated the air between them. Or was that just wishful thinking on her part? He really did have the most beautifully suggestive smile. “That is why I thought you might enjoy riding with me this afternoon.”

  “Yes, I would like that above all things. How thoughtful of you.”

  “Run up and change, Anna,” Mama said. “I dare say our callers will soon arrive, and I don’t suppose you want to be held up by them.”

  Thoughts of Lord Roker and his poetry saw Anna scampering for the stairs. She heard Zach giving orders for Betty to be saddled. Did she have a saddle? Presumably, that was something Zach had thought of and organised on her behalf. How fortunate she was to have such a caring family. Poor Lord Romsey. It was such a shame he had no first-hand experience of such closeness. It was obvious to Anna his cold-hearted father only ever found reason to criticise his son when he failed to live up to parental expectations. Lord Romsey had never had anyone to turn to when he was in need of a confidante. In spite of the fact that her brothers infuriated her sometimes with their over protective ways, she knew she could talk to any of them about absolutely anything, secure in the knowledge they would keep her confidence. When…if, she married Lord Romsey, she would immediately set to work convincing him everyone needed a soul mate, and he had found his.

  A short time later, she ran back down the stairs, clad in her emerald green habit and a matching hat with a plume that fell across her face.

  “I am sorry to have kept your waiting, Lord Romsey.”

  He devoured her with his eyes, taking in every inch of her and appearing to like what he saw. “The short wait has been very worthwhile.” He offered his arm. “Shall we?”

  “I do hope you will dine with us this evening, Lord Romsey,” Mama said. “And escort Anna to the ball afterwards.”

  “Thank you, your grace. It would be my pleasure.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Annalise appeared delighted when they walked into the mews and Betty gave her a little whinny of recognition.

  “You see, she knows me, already.”

  “I dare say you kept your side of the bargain and she is getting all the oats she can eat.”

  “Fie, Lord Romsey, are you suggesting it is merely cupboard love?” Annalise stroked her mare’s nose protectively. “Betty is not that shallow.”

  Clarence’s lips twitched. “I am sure she is not.”

  “Doesn’t she look well?” Annalise stood back and admired the mare’s sleek coat that had been groomed until it shone. “Thank you, Harry,” she said to the hovering groom. “I believe this is your work.”

  The lad blushed. “It was a pleasure, m’lady.”

  Harry led Betty to the mounting block. Annalise slid elegantly into her side saddle, adjusted the single stirrup to her satisfaction and took up the reins. She looked every bit as comfortable on horseback as Clarence had anticipated. He inwardly shuddered when he recalled her sorry state the last time he had seen her on Betty’s back, just a few short days ago. Both rider and horse were different creatures now, no thanks to his investigative skills. He and Annalise walked their horses from the mews side by side.

  “It is very kind of you to make the time for me, Lord Romsey, but quite unnecessary.”

  “It is important we are seen together. The weather is so much finer today and the park will be full of people promenading.” He grinned across the space that separated them. “It wouldn’t do for anyone to doubt the accuracy of the rumours started by Mrs. Anderson.”

  She bit her lip, but a smile escaped anyway. “Oh no, we cannot possibly have that.”

  “Betty appears to be enjoying herself.”

  “Oh, I am sure she is. She is a pleasure to ride, and to own.” She patted the cob’s shiny neck. “Thank you so much, Lord Ramsey. I am quite delighted with my gift.”

  “It is the very least I can do for my intended bride.”

  “There’s no occasion to pretend we will actually follow this sham engagement through to matrimony.” She tossed her head, sending her ridiculous plume dancing across her eyes. How the devil could she see where she was going? “At least, not when it is just the two of us.”

  “I never make false promises,” he replied languidly.

  “I cannot accept that. You are a diplomat.”

  “A diplomat, not a deceiver.”

  “Is that not one and the same thing? You must forgive me if I am being obtuse, but I do not have your sharp mind and quickness of thought.” Clarence swallowed back the denial that sprang to his lips and said nothing, confident she would fill the silence. “Let me see if I have got this right. You are called to arbitrate between two or more warring factions. Is that not what a diplomat does?”

  “In simplistic terms, I suppose it is.”

  “Those are the only terms I understand.” She sent him an arch smile. “You forget. I do not share your perspicuity.”

  She was teasing him. Clarence couldn’t remember the last time a person had teased him—or if it had ever happened. Everyone took him seriously—as seriously as he took himself, he supposed, because that was the only way he knew. Having this lively beauty taunting him with frivolous repartee was as enchanting as the desire to retaliate was compulsive.

  “Don’t think I don’t know what you are about, sweet Annalise,” he warned softly.

  “I cannot imagine what you mean.” She sent him a convincingly innocent look. “I was merely attempting to demonstrate that by definition of your occupation, you cannot help but bend the truth a little when attempting to bring two opposing factions together. Both parties, I am sure, believe their view is the correct one. Otherwise, your services wouldn’t be needed. Therefore, you must disappoint one or the other, or both, or resort to subterfuge to make both sides think they have won.”

  “Has it occurred to you that I might allow both parties to maintain their views, and find alternative, middle-ground satisfactory to both?”


  “There, you see, that proves my point. You are much cleverer than I am. I should never have thought of that. I would most likely scold both sides for being so obtuse, bang their heads together, and tell them not to be such babies.”

  Clarence laughed aloud. “And I had not thought of that.”

  “Oh look, there is Lady Makepeace.” Annalise pointed to a carriage that had slowed, almost to a stop, so its occupants could peer at them. “She is one of the biggest gossips in town, Lord Romsey. The rumours of our engagement have been well and truly substantiated. It would be perfectly safe for you to return me home now.”

  “Is that what you would like me to do?”

  “If we are going to simply trot along this path, then it seems like a waste of your valuable time. I know you have more important things to do.”

  “And yet I cannot think of anywhere else I would prefer to be.”

  “I appreciate the compliment, but there is no need for them when we are alone, since we are only pretending.”

  “Are we?” He elevated both brows, suspecting she was waiting for him to ask why she felt that way. Clarence would never be so direct. “And who said anything about simply trotting? Just have patience, Annalise. I know what you really want to do.”

  “Oh look, there is Lord Jenkins. I promised to dance with him at the duchess’s ball. I hope he does not think I deliberately cut him.”

  They halted their horses and exchanged a few words with Jenkins.

  “You are in my debt to the tune of one dance, Lady Annalise,” he said, ignoring Clarence to the point of rudeness.

  “I must apologise for that. I was taken suddenly unwell.”

  “So I understood from the duchess. However, I hope tonight at Lady Ancel’s you will honour me.”

  “It will be my pleasure.”

  Clarence quietly seethed through the entire exchange. It only lasted for a minute or two, but seemed more like a year. How could she smile and flirt with the rogue quite so openly? She never behaved in that fashion with him, or anyone else, as far as he knew, up until now. They were engaged to be married, damn it! Everyone knew Jenkins was in dun territory, and probably only wanted Annalise for her dowry. Hands off, she’s mine!

  “Romsey.”

  Jenkins inclined his head to an insulting degree before taking his leave of Annalise with warmth that bordered on liberty-taking.

  “Shall I have to endure those sorts of episodes frequently?” he asked, wishing he didn’t sound quite so jealous.

  “Whatever can you mean, Lord Romsey?”

  “Firstly, you ought to call me Clarence. Engaged couples address one another less formally, do they not?”

  “Don’t you know?” She looked surprised. “Have we hit upon a subject upon which you are not fully informed?”

  He smiled at her. “I have never been engaged before.”

  “How did your mother address your father?”

  “I barely recall. I was only six when she died but, now that you ask, I don’t recall her ever calling him anything other than Lord Romsey.”

  Her eyes widened. “What, even in private?”

  “Yes, even then.”

  “And I suppose he addressed her as Lady Romsey.”

  “Either that or madam.” Clarence shrugged, uncomfortable with the sympathy in her expression. He had not, up until that point, considered there was anything strange in the way his parents had communicated. “It is not that unusual.”

  “If you say so.” She sent him a wicked smile. “And you are right. I really ought to address you as Clarence. It will make this pantomime that much more convincing.”

  Clarence fixed her with a condemning look, the one that usually sent his underlings scurrying for cover. On Annalise, it had no discernible effect.

  “Where are we?” she asked. “I am not familiar with this part of the park.”

  “You wish to canter, do you not?”

  “I am keen to discover what Betty is made of, and she seems anxious to stretch her legs.”

  “Well, we can do so here without fear of being interrupted, or mowing anyone down.”

  She sent him a probing gaze. “How do you know of such out of the way places, Clarence? Is this where you meet your informants to exchange secrets of state?”

  He chuckled. “You have an overactive imagination.”

  “I know.” She shrugged. “All of my brothers have had just cause to complain about it over the years, but it is not my fault. It is simply the way I have always been. Perhaps I read too many novels.” She shrugged, looking adorable in her tight-fitting habit and with the light of mischief dancing in her remarkable eyes. “I don’t see how I can be held accountable for the way my mind works. Although my old governess, were she here, would probably say things would be different if I had applied myself more diligently to my lessons. Portia did precisely that. She is so very clever, you know. I, on the other hand, never could see the point of some of the obscure subjects I was required to study.”

  “I am very glad for your quixotic mind set. It is an endlessly enlightening.”

  “I am pleased to be of service.”

  Clarence removed one hand from the reins and placed it over hers. “You are a very great deal more than that to me.”

  She arched a brow. “Why, Clarence, I do believe you are being romantic.”

  He removed his hand and concentrated on controlling his thoroughbred. Having placed his hooves on the gallops, he was anxious to speed off.

  “Shall we?” he asked.

  “With the greatest of pleasure.”

  They gave the horses their heads and sped off along the wide path left muddy by melted snow. Clumps of sodden earth flew into their faces, churned up by flying hooves. Clarence knew better than to make allowances for her. His horse was built for speed, but Annalise appeared to have acquired the same competitive streak all her brothers enjoyed. Light in her saddle as she leaned forward over Betty’s withers, her beautiful face lit up an uncontrived smile of pleasure. Clarence was so enraptured, so caught up with watching her that he missed a turn in the path and almost came to grief. Her musical laughter rang out as she watched him right himself in his saddle and sped ahead, reaching the end of the gallop fractionally ahead of him.

  “Well done,” he said, reining his mount in.

  “You were not concentrating,” she said in an accusing tone. She was breathing hard, and his attention was caught by the swell of her breasts pressing against the fabric of her bodice. It took a monumental effort of will to tear his gaze away from such a compelling sight.

  “Something distracted me,” he replied evasively. “How did Betty go? A stupid question really, since the pair of you beat one of the finest thoroughbreds in town.”

  “She was wonderful, and you did not really try!” Annalise patted the mare’s sweaty neck as they slowed the horses to a walk, giving them time to cool off before returning to Berkeley Square.

  “I am glad she gives you pleasure.”

  “It is not so very hard, is it?” she asked a short time later.

  “I beg your pardon. To what are you referring?”

  “Riding simply for riding’s sake, and taking pleasure from the experience.”

  “That rather depends upon whom one rides with.”

  “Really?” She arched a brow. “I notice you did not agree to having enjoyed yourself. I dare say you are thinking about all the ways you could so much more profitably be employing your time. That is most unflattering! I hope you are not dissatisfied with my company already.”

  “Dissatisfied, yes, but never with your company.”

  “My, Clarence, have a care. You have paid me several compliments this afternoon, and done something reckless.” Her sultry, teasing smile added to his dissatisfaction, but not for reasons she was likely to comprehend. “I do believe there is hope for you yet.”

  “I must take your word for that since I have no idea how you want me to behave.”

  “I want you to be yourself,” she replied,
so quietly that he almost didn’t hear her. “The person you are supposed to be, not the one your father turned you into.”

  “Then we both have surprises in store. And I am entirely at your service.”

  “Hmm, until an affair of state calls for your attention.”

  “I hope I will not prove to be such an inconstant husband.”

  She took one hand from the reins and shook a finger at him. “You are getting ahead of yourself again.”

  “Here we are,” Clarence said, turning his horse in the direction of Winchester’s mews. “I shall see you safely inside and return to dine this evening.”

  They left their horses in the care of the grooms and entered the house through a side door. Annalise’s face broke out into another wide smile when she noticed the paraphernalia of arrival in the entrance vestibule.

  “Amos must be here!” she cried.

  She dashed ahead of Clarence into the drawing room, where the entire family was gathered. Amos Sheridan and his new wife Crista were in their midst, still wearing their travelling clothes.

  “Amos!”

  Annalise threw herself into his arms. Amos turned at the sound of his name, smiled, picked his sister up, and swung her around.

  “I hear you’ve been living up to our name for you again, Trouble,” he said, placing her back on her feet.

  Clarence already had a fair notion how her brothers had come to christen her Trouble.

  “It was not my fault!”

  Amos chuckled. “It never is.” He held her at arm’s length and examined her face, tutting when he saw her fading bruises. “Are you sure you are all right?”

  “Yes. I was frightened, but it all worked out for the best.”

  “So I understand.” He looked towards Clarence and held out his hand. “Congratulations, Romsey. I hope you know what you have agreed to take on.”

  “I am rapidly discovering the truth,” Clarence replied calmly.

 

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