Chapter Three #3
“To be honest, Aunt Hermia, I was not so certain of my feelings for him until I saw his magnificent home, Gull Hall, and hastily reconsidered. Then I said to myself, why not fall in love with an obscenely rich man? So I did.”
Her aunt’s smile faltered as she tried to make out whether Florence was in jest or not.
Trajan laughed heartily. “Ah, she is such a little minx. She is teasing you, of course. But we can speak more about how we were smitten by Cupid’s arrows on our way back to my home. Rest assured, your niece caught one right in her plump, round der—”
“Aunt Hermia does not need to hear the details of how and when we fell in love. Rest assured, Auntie,” Florence said, mimicking his words, “there were no arrows, neither to his heart nor my derriere.”
Her aunt took a gulp of her tea, shook her head, and stared up at Trajan. “We are to visit your home now?”
“Not merely a visit,” he hastened to clarify, “but you are to join me for the duration of your holiday as my guests. It would be my honor to play host and serve as your guide as you tour the area.”
She clapped her hands. “How lovely!”
Trajan’s smile seemed genuine as he mentioned some local attractions that would make perfect day trips for them, and this delighted Aunt Hermia.
“We shall have plenty of time this evening to discuss our itinerary, Miss Newton.” He took out his watch fob and frowned upon noting the time.
“We need to start back before it is too late. I have taken the liberty of asking the innkeeper for maids to assist you in packing.”
“Oh, then I must not keep you waiting.” Aunt Hermia rose and skittered out, calling for the innkeeper, who happened to be standing right beside her and now scurried after her.
“You’ll need to pack, too,” Trajan said.
Florence nodded. “It won’t take me but five minutes.”
“Fine, I’ll wait here for your return.”
She was surprised, for she had expected him to insist on following her up to her quarters. “Do you trust me not to run away?”
He nodded. “You would never abandon your aunt. I noticed how protectively you hovered over her.”
“As chaperone, she is the one who is tasked with looking after me. Lately, it has been the other way around. It is wicked of me to deceive her, but I dare not tell her the truth about us just yet. We must keep up the ruse in front of her, for she is easily confused lately and might let something slip.” She sighed and shook her head. “I won’t be long.”
“All right. Stay out of trouble.”
She laughed softly. “Seriously? I do know how to behave in polite company. Besides, what can go wrong between here and my room?”
“I have no idea, but you’ll come up with something,” he gently teased.
“Honestly,” Florence said mirthfully, marching out of the dining hall.
She was about to start up the stairs when she heard a commotion in the entryway. Curious, she paused to see who had just come in and caused this flurry.
Her heart sank.
Oh, no.
Why hadn’t she run upstairs when she’d had the chance?
“Well, if it isn’t Lower Bramble’s notorious bird watcher, Lady Florence Newton,” Lord Frampton said with an air of joviality that thinly masked his menace. “We seem to be running into each other everywhere today.”
She glanced over his shoulder to his entourage of ruffians, who obviously followed him wherever he went and were once again eyeing her too avidly. She found their malevolent stares unnerving.
“Yes, what an odd coincidence. Have you come to dine here with your friends? Kindly remind them it is rude to gawk at a lady.”
He gave a casual shrug. “Do behave yourselves, gentlemen. You are oversetting our bird-watcher friend. By the way, Lady Florence, have you lost a pair of binoculars?”
Dear heaven.
He knew.
Could it be more obvious? Two mentions of bird watching and now he was informing her of her lost binoculars. “No, why do you ask?”
“It isn’t important. I happened upon a pair in the woods today and thought they might be yours.”
“As you well know, I was busy accepting a marriage proposal today and not traipsing about the woods in search of birds.”
“Speaking of your charming betrothed, where is he now? Has he abandoned you already?”
“Rest assured, he is close by.”
Had Trajan seen them yet?
“And since we are pretending to have a polite conversation,” she continued, “and asking after our significant others, where is your dear wife?”
He arched an eyebrow. “Why do you wish to know?”
“Oh, I thought I might invite her to Gull Hall for tea with me and my aunt the day after tomorrow. Seeing as I shall soon be the Duchess of Weymouth and setting up residence at Gull Hall with my husband, is it not the neighborly thing to do? Or is there a reason she might decline the invitation? You would not be so cruel as to hold her hostage in your own home,” she said loud enough for others to hear, “and deprive me of her lovely company.”
He did not look pleased, but managed to maintain his thin veneer of civility, especially as several guests standing nearby were obviously listening in on their conversation. “I shall let my wife know to expect your invitation.”
“Excellent—one of Weymouth’s footmen will deliver her a formal invitation first thing in the morning.” She bade him a good day and hurried up the stairs to her guest quarters.
She barely had time to open her wardrobe when the door she had left ajar in expectation of a maid’s arrival to assist her suddenly slammed open and a furious Trajan stormed in.
Oh dear.
He looked every inch the daunting duke, quite enraged as he cast her the most ominous frown she had ever seen on a man. “By all that is holy…do you have a death wish, Florence?”