Chapter 2
Two
If Alexander met another mama eager to introduce her daughter to him, he would become a hermit.
The very day after he’d inherited the title, not even a year ago, every mama in the kingdom had tried to get him married.
He’d barely recovered from the pain of losing his father and adjusted to a new life made of responsibilities and meetings in Parliament. A wife could wait.
He strode down the path leading to the maze, pausing only to make sure no one was following him, as it had happened at another event. He’d come to Lord Atkinson’s garden party to meet people he hadn’t seen in a while, not to be chased and pressured to get married at every turn.
Once deep into the maze, he slowed his pace. The warm breeze shufflinging his hair and the birds’ songs calmed his temper. He focused on his upcoming fencing competition in Brighton. Likely his last. Competitions and ducal duties didn’t go well together.
He opened and closed the hand he wielded his foil with. Tiny scars and not-so-tiny calluses covered it. Each mark carried the story of a win or a loss and of his parents encouraging him.
He stopped when he spotted a lady sitting on a bench.
Maybe he was frustrated by the match-making mamas, or maybe his ego was as big as Alexander the Great’s, but his first thought was an ambush.
The lady was pretending to mind her own business, only to attract his attention.
Then she would faint, twist her ankle, and ask him to escort her somewhere.
He had seen it all done before. The lady turned her head towards him before exhaling and dismissing him with a last glance.
She wasn’t interested then, which was good.
He was about to pivot and find an empty aisle to walk in but changed his mind. Perhaps she was lost.
He walked over to her, trying to remember if he’d been introduced to her. Blond hair, baby blue eyes, light blue gown… No, he didn’t know her.
She tensed when he stopped a few feet from her and narrowed her gaze.
“Are you lost, my lady?” He bowed.
She gave him an assessing look as if trying to decide if he was a footpad or not. “You have black hair and wear a dark blue suit.”
He checked his outfit. “I believe I do.”
“I mean, you aren’t a blond gentleman in a green suit.”
What? Too much to drink, likely. “Sorry to disappoint. I took after my mother, and I don’t like green.”
She smiled, and it brightened her face. “Apologies for not making sense. I thought you were someone else.”
“You aren’t lost then.”
“I am, but I don’t think I care.” She closed her eyes at the warm sunshine, and the simple, genuine gesture struck him.
Maybe because just sitting on a bench and enjoying the sunshine was something he hadn’t done in a while.
“So you wouldn’t like me to escort you out of the maze, would you?” he asked.
She opened only one eye to stare at him, and he couldn’t stop a smile. “Not really, no. I would rather stay here for a while.”
“I understand you, my lady. I need a moment for myself, too.” He should leave her alone, but her disinterested attitude towards him intrigued him.
This could be his chance to have a normal conversation with a lady his age without the threat of an impending wedding.
Something rare these days. “Why aren’t you enjoying the party? ”
She shrugged. “I can’t do any of the things I like.”
“Like what?” Asking questions of a lady he hadn’t been introduced to wasn’t polite, but he was curious, energised even.
“I can’t drink lemonade because it contains too much sugar. I can’t eat the almond cake because it’s too rich. I can’t play cricket because my shoulders grow too large.” She threw her hand up. “The list goes on. It would be quicker to tell you what I can do.”
“Your mother is the enforcer of those restrictions, I guess.”
“She means well, but her strategy isn’t going as she wishes. Quite the opposite.”
“I see.” He shifted his position not to cast his shadow over her. She looked too lovely with the sunlight dancing on her blonde curls. “I suppose your mother wants you to find a good match.”
She gave him a grave nod. “Not just any good match, but the Duke of Richmond. How ridiculous.” She rested her chin on her palm.
He searched her face for any signs of lies, but she genuinely didn’t know who he was.
“Why ridiculous?” he asked.
“Why would a duke who’s called The Great be interested in me?” she whispered.
“Why wouldn’t he?”
She hung her head. “Do you want to know how many suitors I’ve had so far?
None. Zero. Naught. Not for lack of trying.
Mother paraded me to every social event she could from my first Season.
I met many gentlemen, and not one of them invited me to a promenade or an afternoon tea.
Or remembered my name, for that matter. If I want to predict my success with the duke from my previous experiences, I would say he wouldn’t even ask me to pass him the salt at the table. ”
He chuckled and wondered when the last time he’d laughed with a lady had been. As of late, his conversations with the ladies had been all about what he was looking for in his future duchess. Every conversation had sounded like an interview with a journalist.
“You’re too hard on yourself,” he said.
“Am I?” She shielded her blue eyes from the sun with a hand. “Then why don’t I have a suitor? I’m not easily discouraged, mind you. I’m a rather optimistic person, but facts are facts. Gentlemen don’t like me.”
“I think you’ve been unlucky so far.”
“And I’m not even enjoying myself. All those rules and plans, and I’m miserable.”
“There’s a remedy for that.” He offered her his arm. “Let me escort you back to the party. We’ll grab a lemonade and start a game of cricket with the other guests.”
She perked up. “A rebellion. I agree.” She took his arm, beaming with sheer happiness. “If I can’t have a suitor, then I’ll take a cricket game.”
“That’s the spirit.”
As they walked along the pathway, he watched her smile. One moment, she was dejected; the next, she was cheerful. He envied her ability to recover her good mood so quickly.
“Finally, my day is turning,” she said. “A chance meeting in a maze, and everything changes.”
“So you don’t want to meet the duke.”
“Not particularly. I don’t want to be rejected by a duke as well.
If even a duke dismissed me, I would be rejected by the entire English peerage.
Then Mother will try to marry me off to a wealthy New Yorker, and I’ll be rejected by The Four Hundred as well.
That’s not the type of accomplishment I would like to brag about. ”
He led her out of the maze, half-wondering if he should run back to it. “It’s a personal question, but do you want to get married?”
She lifted a shoulder, and a lace on her sleeve fluttered up before landing on the creamy skin of her arm. “I wouldn’t mind meeting a gentleman I like and respect and who respects me in turn. Life is a journey. It’s sad doing it alone.”
“That’s true, and it’s a good reason to find someone.”
She leant closer, and he caught a whiff of her flowery scent. “I wouldn’t care if such a gentleman were a duke or a knight. But Mother has other goals. My elder brother married a duke’s daughter, and my elder sister is engaged to one.”
“To a duke’s daughter?”
She laughed, tilting her head back. “I’m the last daughter, unmarried, and Mother would like to have a set of ducal marriages.”
He liked the sound of her laughter, and she was delightful to chat with, not to mention charming. The fact she lacked suitors was a mystery.
The chatter and music grew louder as they walked down the path.
He slowed his pace. The truth couldn’t be avoided any longer. “My lady, I should introduce myself. I’m—”
“Oh, please don’t. The moment you tell me you’re lord this or that, you’ll break the spell.”
“What spell?”
“This…” She fluttered a hand between them. “We met informally. It’s just you and me. No titles and no names. After I beat you at cricket, we’ll introduce ourselves formally.”
“A challenge. May I at least know your name, just your name?”
“Esther.”
“Alexander.” He bowed. “I’m ready to beat you at cricket.”