Chapter 3 #3
Meriel couldn’t stop watching him—curious about his response, of course, since his longtime friend suspected his motives—but also fascinated by a duke’s easy relaxation in the sand on the seashore.
He propped his elbow on the ground and his head on his hand, and his hair blew about.
She kept telling herself that he was just her eccentric employer but there was a rare presence about him that made him hard to ignore, and that bothered her.
She didn’t have the heart to pull Stephen away for lessons when his larger-than-life father was here.
She kept waiting for the duke to concentrate on Miss Barome, but his gaze lingered at some point on each of them.
Just a momentary look, but when it touched her she felt it like a physical force.
Though she did not mean to—did not want to—she met his gaze for that brief moment, and it was like an electrical current shot between them.
She hastily looked down at the wine bottle she was holding and almost dropped it.
Was this becoming a biology lesson that she’d never experienced before?
Stephen had finally eaten enough and wandered toward the surf.
He asked her rather than his father if he could remove his shoes, but his father didn’t notice.
The duke was looking off down the beach, paying what seemed only a small amount of attention to Miss Barome’s discussion of the newest Ramsgate residents.
Miss Barome was leaning back on her hands, her face to the sun, her freckles practically darkening as Meriel watched.
And Meriel knelt primly, her bonnet still firmly in place, not daring to relax. She kept her attention on Stephen, who chased gulls, splashed through the surf, and collected shells to bring to her. The farther he roamed, the more the duke seemed to watch him.
Did the man not trust her to take care of his son? After all, she had Stephen’s care most of the day.
As she was deciding whether or not to be offended, she saw the duke’s gaze take in a lone man who walked down the beach toward them. The stranger moved with purpose, instead of the slow stroll of a sightseer.
Meriel wouldn’t have even noticed the man, except that the duke’s relaxed pose seemed suddenly…stiff. No longer did he glance at Miss Barome or Meriel herself. The smile on his face became fixed.
He slowly sat up, his forearm resting on one bent knee.
Miss Barome’s eyes were closed with the bliss of the sun on her face, so she noticed nothing.
But Meriel looked between the duke, Stephen, and the stranger. The duke’s tension had transferred itself to her, and she felt suddenly afraid, as if a dark cloud had moved between her and the sun.
What was wrong with her? There were many people walking the shore.
Softly, she said, “Shall I get your son, Your Grace?”
He shook his head without looking at her. “I’ll go.”
He rose to his feet smoothly and began to walk toward Stephen. She had an irrational urge to follow him, as if he couldn’t protect his own son.
Protect him from what?
The duke reached Stephen before the stranger did and squatted next to the boy. Stephen gestured down at something, but didn’t notice that his father was watching the man instead.
Meriel’s stomach clenched as the man came ever nearer. The duke put an arm about Stephen’s shoulder and turned him to face the sea, as if pointing out the ship that lingered on the horizon.
But he was putting his own body between Stephen and the stranger.
Perspiration broke out on Meriel’s face. She clutched her skirts with damp fingers. What was going on?
The stranger was now within yards of them. She came to her knees without realizing it.
And then the man nodded pleasantly at the duke and just kept walking.
The duke rose to his feet, glancing over his shoulder at the stranger, then leaning down to answer something Stephen had said. Meriel sank back on her heels.
As the man reached them, he called out, “Good afternoon, Miss Barome.”
The woman shielded her eyes and smiled. “A good afternoon to you too, Mr. Sherlock.” She introduced Meriel to him and said, “I was just mentioning to the duke that Ramsgate now has you for a new grocer.”
“How kind of you, miss,” he said, bowing and smiling and looking so harmless. “Didn’t know the duke was in residence.”
“He’ll be here indefinitely, Mr. Sherlock. I’m sure you’ll see him in town.”
When the duke made no move to leave Stephen, the merchant finally left without an introduction.
Miss Barome frowned at the duke and shook her head. “Cecil could have at least come meet the man. But then he never does think of those things. Rather self-absorbed is our Cecil—as I’m sure you’ll see, Miss Shelby.”
Meriel nodded, but her eyes were for the duke, who didn’t seem to pay attention as Mr. Sherlock left them. She could almost make herself believe she’d imagined the whole thing.
But she hadn’t. And she deserved to understand what was going through the duke’s mind, if she was to spend so much time with his son. She would ask to make an appointment to meet with him. They could discuss Stephen’s studies and she could ask if Stephen could have dinner nightly with his father.
And she could ask why the duke sensed danger on a sunlit beach.