by Tuft, Karen
***
Elizabeth was enjoying her time in Hyde Park; the walk had lifted her spirits. She had discovered more items to add to her lists of likes. All in all, it had been a wonderful morning. But she suspected Lady Walmsley would have awakened by now and would be wondering where she’d gone. She’d neglected to inform Foster of her plans, and she doubted Sally had said anything to anyone.
As they headed in the direction of the gates, she spied a familiar figure on horseback heading in their direction.
“Lady Elizabeth,” the Duke of Aylesham said from atop his horse once he’d reached them. He removed his hat as he nodded in greeting and then replaced it again. “A lovely day just became even more glorious by seeing you. How do you do?”
“I’m well, thank you, Your Grace. My maid and I have been having a delightful time in the park, feeding the ducks with a group of children.”
“Feeding ducks, eh? And with children, no less. I myself cannot understand what would make that delightful, but I will take your word that it is so. Perhaps you would allow me to walk with you for a while, and you can explain it to me.” He smiled at her and awaited her answer.
He really was an attractive man. His hair, a deep mahogany, was shot with burgundy highlights from the sun, and his eyes were dark brown, almost black in color. His clothing was flawless. There wasn’t a fleck of dust to be seen anywhere, his neckcloth was an immaculate knot held in place by a ruby stickpin, and his boots gleamed. She knew he was considered the catch of the Season. He’d been the catch of every Season for nearly as long as Elizabeth could remember, even back when he’d still been the Earl of Kerridge. No lady had caught him yet.
“We were heading home, Your Grace. I failed to tell anyone of our destination, and I fear Lady Walmsley may have awakened and discovered our absence. I do not wish for her to worry.”
“Then with your permission, I will escort you home,” he said.
“That is very kind of you, Your Grace.”
He dismounted and gestured to a boy nearby, who hurried over to take the reins of the duke’s horse from him. “Follow us, if you please,” the duke said.
“You got it, guv,” the boy replied, pulling his forelock in deference.
They strolled toward the gate, with Sally a few paces behind and the boy with the duke’s horse a few paces behind Sally. The duke did not offer her his arm but, rather, clasped his hands behind his back, which was a relief, frankly, for offering his arm would have generated even more gossip than merely walking with her. The duke knew how to maintain a polite distance from a lady and still appear the gentleman. It was surely one of the ways he’d not been caught in the parson’s mousetrap for so many years.
Elizabeth wondered if he had no wish to marry, although the very thought seemed absurd to her. The Duke of Aylesham had inherited his title from a great-uncle, however, so he may not have had the same sense of direct legacy he might have if he had inherited his title from his father instead.
“You seem deep in thought,” he said as they strolled.
“My apologies, Your Grace,” Elizabeth answered, embarrassed that she’d been caught with her mind wandering.
“A penny for them,” he said.
She couldn’t simply tell him she’d been wondering why he’d chosen to remain unmarried for so long. “Do the constraints of being a duke ever weigh overly heavily on you?” It was still too personal a question to be asking, but at least it was related to what she’d been thinking and less personal than asking him about his romantic life.
“Hmm,” he said. “That was not what I expected. I suppose my answer would be that the constraints are, indeed, sometimes heavy. Whether they are overly heavy remains to be seen. I do not believe they have been to this point. Now I will pose the same question to you: have you found the constraints of being the daughter of a duke overly heavy? Ah, but I believe I already know your answer.”
She sighed.
“I will take that as a yes,” he said. “I believe that it may also explain the ducks and children. You were going to enlighten me in that regard, were you not?”
“There is not so much to tell,” Elizabeth said. “There were your typical greedy ducks who have learned that there is food to be easily had in Hyde Park. And there was your typical group of children on an outing with their nursemaids, who were more than eager to accommodate those ducks. Nothing at all unusual about the scene.”
“Except for the daughter of a duke who joined them, if I remember your earlier words correctly,” he said.
“Yes,” Elizabeth replied, smiling at the recollection. “I was enchanted by the innocence of it all and asked if I could.”
“Ah,” the duke said. “I see.”
Elizabeth had the feeling that he did see.
They had long since passed through the gate and were now walking down the street. Elizabeth waited for the duke to be the first to break the ensuing silence. He eventually cleared his throat. “Do you realize that we have more in common than merely our various family connections to a duke?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
He hesitated before answering, and she wondered if he regretted his prior question. “Has it not occurred to you that had fate not been so . . . capricious, shall we say . . . that you and I would be brother and sister. In-laws, as it were.”
She looked at him in surprise. There was only one way that would have occurred—by his having married Louisa Hargreaves, the current Countess of Farleigh, who was Alex and Anthony’s sister. And yet, during all of the time Elizabeth had been intended for Alex, and then pushed to accept Anthony, she had never heard of this.
“I can see by your expression that this comes as a shock to you,” he said. “But I suppose you were still rather young and the news had not been made public. The marriage settlements were nearly completed when other events intervened.”
Since Lady Farleigh was happily married to Lord Farleigh and not to the Duke of Aylesham, Elizabeth could only assume it was Lord Farleigh who had created the events that had “intervened,” as the duke had described it.
“I tell you all of this only to let you know that there is someone in Town who may understand you better than many others do. Someone, like you, who grew up living under the expectations of a duke and who had connections to the Marquess of Ashworth’s offspring that did not go as planned. And so I wish you to know that if you are ever in need, Lady Elizabeth, in any way, I hope you will not hesitate to call upon me. If I can be of any service to you, ever, I would consider it an honor.”
His handsome, haughty face wore a serious expression. He did not wish his offer to be taken lightly, and Elizabeth understood that sharing these details of his past was not something he did easily. Not the Duke of Aylesham, who made men shrivel.
“I am moved by your generous offer, Your Grace, and I promise I shall keep it in mind. Thank you most sincerely.”
He nodded graciously to her.
They had arrived at Lady Walmsley’s townhouse. The Duke of Aylesham took her gloved hand in his and kissed it. His lips lingered over her hand. “Adieu, Lady Elizabeth. I bid you good day. I hope we may meet again soon.”
He took the reins from the boy and reached into his pocket for a coin to give him, which the boy bit and then grinned at the duke before dashing off. Then His Grace mounted his horse, tipped his hat at Elizabeth, and nudged his horse into a walk, heading back the way they had just come.
Elizabeth briefly watched him retreat and then went to find Lady Walmsley.
***
It was still early in the day, undoubtedly too early for callers, but Kit was on his way to Lady Walmsley’s townhouse despite all of that.
Lady Walmsley had told Kit unequivocally that he needed to apologize for implying that the Duke of Aylesham had needed prompting from Lady Bledsoe to treat Elizabeth with courtesy. Kit still had no idea why the thought had
even popped into his mind or, more importantly, why his mouth had felt the need to blurt it out.
But it had, and he’d offended Lady Walmsley, and more importantly, he’d upset Elizabeth. She had spent the rest of the carriage ride hiding her face from him and biting her lip to keep from crying. He’d behaved like an utter boar—and right to her face too!
The memory of what he’d said had kept him awake for a good share of the night. Now he was on his way to Lady Walmsley’s townhouse, where he would have to face Elizabeth, whose eyes would mirror the hurt he had caused her.
He was agitated.
His head ached.
He was angry. Why he was angry, he wasn’t entirely sure, but he was.
The hackney in which he was riding rounded the corner onto the street where Lady Walmsley lived. His moment of reckoning was upon him. After he made his amends to the ladies, he intended to go to Gentleman Jackson’s. A little boxing—the opportunity to pound away at something or, better yet, someone—suited his mood perfectly. He would envision that he was landing punches on Lord Cosgrove or on—
The Duke of Aylesham, on horseback, was heading in his direction.
Speak of the devil . . .
There could only be one reason why Aylesham was on this street during the time of day when ladies received callers.
The duke, clearly recognizing Kit when he peered into the hackney window, tipped his hat as they passed each other. Kit responded with a tight-lipped smile, his teeth clenched so hard he thought they might turn to rubble in his mouth, his right hand tightening into a fist.
The hackney came to a halt, and Kit bounded out, paid the driver, and then stood outside Lady Walmsley’s door. He glanced to his left. The Duke of Aylesham must have rounded a corner, for he was nowhere in sight. He glanced to his right—the hackney had continued on its way. He stared at the door. Stared at the knocker that taunted him to make his presence known.
If he must play the fool and apologize for his words—words that were obviously inaccurate, as the duke’s presence here this afternoon would attest—then he best get it over with and be on his way. He took a deep breath and ventured forward, telling himself it was too late to dash off like a blasted coward, and raised the knocker.
After a minute or an eternity passed, Foster opened the door. “Ah, Lord Cantwell, welcome,” the butler said, as he usually did when Kit called upon Lady Walmsley. He gestured for Kit to enter. “Please have a seat in the parlor while I inform Lady Walmsley that you have called.”
“Er, you might direct that information to Lady Elizabeth instead of Lady Walmsley.”
“Oh?” Foster wasn’t able to keep his eyebrow from rising just a tad out of curiosity. “Very well, then, although I am sure Lady Walmsley would wish to visit with you. But as you wish.”
He showed Kit into the parlor—a parlor Kit knew well by this time. He paced back and forth, sat in his usual chair, rose again, and paced some more, rehearsing the words of his apology over and over in his head.
When the door eventually opened again, he turned swiftly, clenching his hands behind his back. hoping to assume a gentlemanly demeanor and hide the tension he felt.
Elizabeth stood in front of him in a pale-blue day dress, her cheeks rosy and her eyes shining. She smiled and held out her hands to him in greeting. “Kit!” she exclaimed. “You are here at last. I was with Lady Walmsley when Foster informed me that you had arrived. I believe she will be joining us in a few minutes.”
He had no choice but to take both of her hands in his and bow over them. “You look radiant this afternoon,” he said truthfully, praying that the Duke of Aylesham wasn’t responsible for it, futile prayer though it might be.
“Thank you. Please have a seat.” She perched on the settee that faced the fireplace.
Should he sit by her on the settee? Should he sit in the chair next to it? “I believe I’ll stand for the time being,” he finally said with a touch of formality.
Was he mistaken, or did her expression give away a hint of disappointment?
“As you wish,” she said.
He walked a few paces and then back, collecting his thoughts, but all of his finely crafted words had fled at the sight of Aylesham—and her shining face.
“I will be adding to my lists,” she said when he failed to speak. “This morning, Sally and I went to the park, and I have found that I like ducks, feeding them, actually. I also like children. I think I already knew I liked children; I had a most memorable afternoon last summer when Amelia invited me to join her in entertaining them . . .” Her words trailed off, and her countenance began to darken.
“You are remembering other events that happened last summer now, aren’t you?”
“I cannot help it,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.
“Let’s not dwell on what happened then,” Kit suggested, moving to sit next to her. “Let’s talk about my oafish behavior last night instead.”
“You were no such thing,” Elizabeth said, but by calling himself oafish, he did see the tiniest curl of a smile form before vanishing again.
“Oh, but I was. Lady Walmsley was correct in admonishing me. Gentlemen need no prompting to treat you with the upmost gallantry. They need to take but one look—” He looked at her . . . and found he was lost. All the earlier anger he’d been feeling seemed to dissipate. “One look,” he said again, his heart pounding in his chest, “and they will do anything within their power to make you happy.”
“Kit—” she said, but he placed a finger on her lips to silence her.
“I saw him, you see,” he said, his face close to hers. “The duke. And I cannot blame him.” He could not blame any gentleman, least of all the Duke of Aylesham, for seeing what a precious jewel Lady Elizabeth was. How easy it would be right now to move even closer, to press his lips to hers . . .
Her eyelashes fluttered. “I think you misunderstand—”
“Well, here you are, and about time too,” Lady Walmsley said in a voice that could have announced the apocalypse. Kit hadn’t even noticed her arrival in the room, and by Elizabeth’s startled reaction, he suspected she’d been unaware of Lady Walmsley’s presence as well. They quickly separated and established more formal demeanors. “If my eyes did not deceive me, I am going to presume that you have made amends to our dear Elizabeth for your unkindness last night,” she added.
“He has, Lady Walmsley,” Elizabeth said with the pleasant, perfect smile he’d often seen her use before.
“Satisfactorily?” Lady Walmsley asked, shooting Kit a critical look.
“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “Lord Cantwell has apologized, and I have accepted his apology. The matter is closed as far as I am concerned.”
“In fact, I was about to invite Elizabeth to join me at Gunter’s,” Kit said impulsively, even though he hadn’t planned on anything except getting through the ordeal of facing her. “I thought perhaps she would enjoy determining which of their various flavors of ices she liked best. You are invited to join us, Lady Walmsley, if she agrees.”
“Oh, what an absolutely splendid idea!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “But I’m sure I could never choose just one. Do come with us, Lady Walmsley!”
“I am tempted, to be sure,” Lady Walmsley said. “But I will let you young people enjoy your sweets, and I will look forward to hearing which ones are your favorites when you return. In the meantime, I think I shall curl up with a good book until I can no longer keep my eyes open. I imagine the poetry will work splendidly to accomplish that goal.”
“I will go for my bonnet, then,” Elizabeth said, smiling so brightly at Kit that he felt the warmth of it all the way to his bones.
“I shall anxiously await your return,” he replied earnestly.
***
Foster sent a footman to call for a hackney while Elizabeth retrieved her bonnet and pelisse, so by the time she rejoined Kit, they wer
e ready to be on their way. She was still getting over the shock that Kit had been about to kiss her before Lady Walmsley had interrupted. She was certain he’d been about to kiss her.
Alex had kissed her on a few occasions—polite, “we’re to be married eventually” kinds of kisses on the cheek that had only given her the slightest hope that he would eventually grow to love her a little bit. She’d been enamored of him as a girl—who wouldn’t have been, with his looks and charm?—and had also seen him as a means of getting away from her demanding parents, but her schoolgirl infatuation and dreams of the future had faded by the end of her first Season when he hadn’t officially proposed, and then they had turned to resignation and even resentment during the following two Seasons.
At the age of twenty-three, Elizabeth was an on-the-shelf spinster who’d been intended for marriage for years and yet had never been truly kissed before. Girls she’d come out with were now married with two or three children in tow.
Kit hadn’t been able to kiss her because of Lady Walmsley’s interruption, and yet, the emotions that near-kiss had evoked in Elizabeth had eclipsed anything she’d felt with Alex. And if she wasn’t mistaken, Kit had encountered the Duke of Aylesham on his way to call upon her. Had he been jealous? He’d seemed so un-Kit-like when she’d first arrived in the parlor.
He handed her into the hackney and followed her inside. “I have been to Gunter’s Tea Shop before, you know,” she said. “Several times. I know some of my favorites already. But your idea was so enchanting, I couldn’t resist.”
“We shall ask the proprietor for a small sampling of each, and then we shall pass judgment on them and see if our individual preferences align with each other.”
“The other customers will think we’ve gone mad!” Elizabeth exclaimed, unable to hold back a laugh.
“Not at all; they will be envious that they didn’t come up with the idea themselves.”
Elizabeth wondered if he might try to kiss her again, but it became more and more apparent as they traveled to Gunter’s that his mood had shifted after Lady Walmsley’s interruption. She would not allow herself to be disappointed; after all, they were going to sample delicious ices and treats.