Chapter 9
Kalina
The Duke of Montagu was a charming companion and a dab hand with the whip.
He also seemed to immediately notice that she was not entirely comfortable around the horses, though she was thankfully not sitting directly atop one.
For a man who was convinced he would not make a good husband, so far, he was proving the exact opposite to her.
He kept the giant beasts to a fast but smooth walk.
The road was not very bumpy, and it made for a rather nice drive.
The sun was up, but not too hot, and at the pace they were moving, there was a nice breeze.
Kalina tucked in her skirts about her legs to keep them from fluttering too much.
She could feel the wind against her bonnet, but the bow under her chin was tied tightly enough, she had no worries about it flying off.
They exchanged several pleasantries about the weather and the Blackstones’ hospitality, and when the horses did not do anything untoward, Kalina felt safer than she had initially. The curricle had her much closer to them than the carriage, but they gave no indication of misbehavior.
“So, you never learned to ride?” he asked, once she had begun to finally relax when it was clear he had full control of the horses. Not that they had been particularly frisky. She had seen worse, but she still did not fully trust them. “Was that not possible in India?”
“It was possible but…” She grimaced. “I saw a rather unsettling incident with a horse and their rider, and it put me off learning.” Unsettling was the least of it, but describing what had actually happened was hardly ladylike. Besides which, she did not particularly enjoy revisiting the experience.
“Ah, I see.” He pondered that for a moment. “What of learning to drive? Have you any objection to that?”
Kalina blinked. “I… have never considered the possibility.”
“I could teach you,” he offered, giving her a sidelong glance. “It is not very difficult.”
“Oh…” Her voice trailed off as she tried to find a way to politely decline without insulting him.
But should she decline? It might not be horrible to learn how to do something with horses.
The English were certainly mad for them, and if she was going to be going to more house parties, she was likely to have more encounters with the beasts.
It might be nice not to have to rely on a gentleman willing to drive her.
Though she was not sure how driving herself would be viewed.
“You do not have to decide right now,” he assured her cheerfully. “The offer will remain open, regardless, even after the house party is over and we return to London. I would be as happy to teach you there as I am here.”
“That is very kind, thank you.” Even if she never took him up on the offer, she appreciated it.
Leaning back against the seat, she watched the horses moving.
There was something hypnotic about their bobbing heads and the passing countryside.
It was far nicer riding in the curricle than in a carriage, though she knew the carriage was better for longer distances.
She liked the open air and the feel of the breeze against her skin. The sun was warm but not beating down on her. It was a lovely experience. Especially when combined with Montagu’s flirtatiously cheerful presence.
If only he made her heart flutter and her body tingle the way Hereford did…
Kalina shook off the thought.
She needed to focus on the duke in front of her, who had volunteered to drive her to the ruins, not the one who blew hot and cold over and over again.
“Do you visit the country very often?” she asked.
“Oh, no. I am much happier in the capital where there is endless entertainment,” he replied cheerfully.
“I grow bored rather quickly in the country. House parties like this can be quite enjoyable because there are many activities to do. I can take care of everything I need to from the city, with occasional visits to the ducal seat, but I return to London as quickly as I can. Fortunately, my steward has things well in hand.”
“Did you grow up in the city?” Kalina could not help but be curious.
From the way her father had described his father and Society, she had assumed most noblemen spent their time shuttling back and forth depending on the time of year.
It was only once they’d arrived in London that she’d learned some stayed in the city year-round.
She wondered how effective they could truly be with matters of a place they rarely visited. Why they would not be more invested in the lands and people that supported them. This was her first opportunity to question a gentleman who clearly did not deeply involve himself in his estate.
“Oh, no. In the country. My father preferred it there.” Something in his tone of voice changed, but she could not determine what it was. “Ah, look, see the hawk?”
Obligingly, Kalina turned her face in the direction he was pointing. Indeed, there was a bird soaring through the sky, circling without moving its wings as it glided along.
“Beautiful. Oh!” The hawk suddenly dove so fast, she nearly missed it. One moment it was there, another it was gone.
“It must have seen some prey. Ah… it did not catch its breakfast. Poor hawk.” The bird was rising back into the air, flapping its wings to regain height, before circling toward the forest in the distance.
“Well, that is certainly something I have never seen in London.” She shook her head, bemused.
The duke laughed. “Very true. Though I will take the theater and Vauxhall Gardens over a hawk sighting.” He chuckled.
“Have you seen the recent exhibit at the museum?” Kalina shook her head, and he began to expound enthusiastically on the recent arrivals.
It was clear he enjoyed beautiful things, including art.
Montagu was so engaging, it took her until they reached the ruins to realize how neatly he had turned the conversation from himself and his home.
While she had learned a great deal about the museum’s current and previous exhibits, as well as his opinion on the plays and operas available in London, she had not learned anything about the man himself.
She had to wonder if he had deliberately changed the topic or if he was so used to deflecting ladies’ attention from anything personal, he did it automatically.
“Ah, we have arrived at the gothic ruins of London,” he declared in a stentorian voice, making her throw back her head and laugh in surprise.
Kalina had always imagined that dukes would be rather stodgy, the most proper of the ton, but Christian was anything but.
The other group was already in front of the church, which she had expected.
She would be lying if she said she was not relieved to see Lady Astrid on the Duke of Hereford’s arm rather than one of the marriage-minded young ladies.
It was a conundrum how she could so enjoy the Duke of Montagu’s company, yet the moment the Duke of Hereford appeared in front of her, it was as though she could not breathe properly, much less pay attention to the man beside her.
As the Duke of Hereford and Lady Astrid turned away, walking away from where Kalina and the Duke of Montagu were coming down the drive, she let out a long, slow breath.
By the time the curricle came to a halt, she had her jangling nerves under control again. The Duke of Montagu got down from the curricle as the Duke of Ormonde held the horses in place.
“My lady.” Montagu smiled up at her, reaching out his hand for her to take so he could help her down from the carriage.
She placed her gloved fingers in his. No tingle. No sudden fluttering in her belly. She smiled back at him, stepping down from the carriage and letting her hand drop away from his.
“Thank you for a lovely drive, Your Grace.”
“Please, call me Christian.”
“Then I must be Kalina to you.” She tried not to show her surprise. Other than Gregory, who she knew had done so at Tiffany’s behest, she had not been invited to use any of the other dukes’ given names until now. Had she done something on the drive to prompt his invitation? If so, what?
Did this mean he was truly courting her?
“Kalina is a lovely name. Does it mean anything?” Rather than taking care of the horses, Christian gave the Duke of Ormonde a nod and turned away, treating the other duke like a stableboy.
Though he rolled his eyes, Ormonde turned to lead the horses and curricle away until it was time to return to Blackstone Manor.
Christian held out his arm for Kalina to take as she answered him.
“I do not know,” she admitted. “It was my father’s great-grandmother’s name. He said she was his favorite relative, so he wanted to name his eldest daughter after her.”
“I was named after my father’s grandfather, though I think he regretted that.” Christian chuckled.
She frowned at him, turning her head to look up at him as he began to lead her toward the stone ruins. Despite her interest in the sights, she was far more curious about his odd comment.
“Why would he regret naming you after his grandfather?”
“According to him, my grandfather was a paragon of virtues. Obviously, I failed to live up to his great legacy.” Tilting his head toward her, Christian wiggled his eyebrows in a manner that prompted her to smile, though she did not feel that what he was saying was particularly funny.
“I am quite sure my father often thought he should have named me after his least admired relative, whoever that may have been.”
Kalina’s chest felt oddly tight. She did not know what to say to him. Clearly, he believed that he was a great disappointment to his father, though she could not imagine how that could be the case.
“I think you are a paragon of virtues,” she replied stubbornly. “Unless… are you fishing for compliments again?”
That startled a laugh out of him, drawing the attention of some of the others.
Kalina kept her focus determinedly on the man at her side and not looking around to see what the other ladies might think and certainly not where the Duke of Hereford and Lady Astrid had gone.
They were probably out of earshot anyway, and it did not matter what he thought.
“Trust me, my father would have disagreed with you. Vehemently.” He patted her hand where it rested on her arm. “Though I appreciate your defense, I must admit, he had good reason to feel the way he did.”
“As far as I can see, your only true failing is in the way you view yourself.” Kalina sniffed.
She had never thought to scold a duke, but the way he was so needlessly self-deprecating, so cruel to himself, was starting to get under her skin.
“If you were someone else talking about you in this manner, I would have to take them to task for speaking so meanly about you—and I would tell them they must see you with clouded vision for some unknown reason because that is not the man I have come to know.”
“Oh… well… you do not know me very well, you see…” But the duke looked much struck, and his smile was weaker than before. He seemed almost embarrassed. As if he did not know how to receive praise. Which she had noticed before, the last time she’d chided him for not seeing himself clearly.
“Sometimes, it takes an outsider’s eye to see the clearest,” she responded tartly. “And I would appreciate it if you would stop speaking so disrespectfully of my new friend, Christian.” Raising her eyebrow at him, she gave him a stern look.
The way he looked back at her was almost fearful, and she could barely keep herself from giggling. He did not seem to know how to feel about her statement.
Slowly, he let out a long breath.
“Let us explore the ruins,” he said finally. “Before I say anything else you need to scold me for.”
“That sounds perfect.”