Chapter Six
W hy, oh why, had she been staring at his buttocks?? If she had just been paying attention, she wouldn’t have run right into him. Him and his strong, muscular back. She looked and felt a complete and utter bacon-brained ninny.
She thought she was going to lose it when she asked about the chocolates. And when she added the part about the gift, she couldn’t even conceive of how she had abstained from laughter. It was all too much. And that’s rather why she thought she was able to hold it all together. It was all too much. Him. His dukeness. His visits.
Tomorrow when he came, she would just outright decline his attention. That should do it.
But then tomorrow came. And so did he. With flowers. With chocolates. And with a small wrapped gift.
What ground did she have to stand on and refuse his attention? Pretty shaky, even she had to admit.
“Good morning, Lady Boudicca.” He presented the flowers and a second bouquet of pale pink peonies. He had obviously appreciated her reaction yesterday.
She plucked a delectable looking chocolate from the small box sitting atop the gift. Heavenly. A moan nearly escaped her lips.
“That good, are they?”
Drat! Well, what could she expect? She wasn’t chipped out of stone like he was.
She shrugged an indifferent shoulder. “Try one for yourself.” But really hoping he wouldn’t.
“I shall. Good to know you aren’t one of those selfish recipients of gifts.” He plopped one in his mouth.
“Yes, well. I pride myself on my virtues.”
“Seems a contradiction, doesn’t it?”
“Is it better to hold myself in contempt for my virtues?”
“Touché.” The dratted man plopped another one of her chocolates in his mouth. “Shall we go for a carriage ride?”
“I thought you wanted a visit with tea?”
“I thought I did as well. And then I thought perhaps it’s best we’re in neutral territory where I can’t be kicked out.”
She hummed her deliberation. “While your carriage is most definitely not neutral territory, I can accept your offer if only to take some time outdoors.”
“That’s reason enough for me. Shall we?” He propped his arm up for her, and she took it. After having gone only a few steps, his feet melded into the Aubusson rug. “I nearly forgot your gift.” Turning, still with her hand on his arm, he reached for the gift and tugged on the wrapping.
“Isn’t it customary for the recipient to open their own gifts?”
“Isn’t it customary…now that is quite the phrase. Shall we delve into that one?” The shape of his autocratic eyebrow curtailed her initial response.
“Just open it. You’ve already started.” Her hand was still on his arm, and she could feel her breast rubbing against his forearm as he untied the last string.
There in dusty blue, laced in gold text, read, Boudicca, A Warrior Queen Biography.
“Charming,” she murmured as she accepted the tome.
“I took the liberty of placing a few bookmarks next to my favorite quotes.”
“You read this already?”
“Select parts.”
With nothing to say to that, she stuffed the small book in her dress pocket and led them out of the house.
This man was vexing indeed. Soon it would be time to dig.
While it was one thing to be alone together in the privacy of her own home, it was another beast entirely to attempt that in public. It was a beast she declined to fight. A quick call to her lady’s maid presented the perfect chaperone, and they were off, seated in the carriage and heading toward Rotten Row. With the knowledge that her questioning him would put a damper on the day, Boudicca allowed herself to enjoy the wind and the sun in companionable silence.
“I can see that smile. You should have let me take you on a carriage ride on my first visit.”
“That is a thought. However, I would be out flowers, chocolates, and a nice little book.”
He chuckled. A nice deep rumble from his chest. It was a contagious laugh that rendered her lips weak. A tepid smile ensued.
“Yes, well, we can’t have that.”
“I half expected us to be in a high-flying phaeton. You’re a duke after all.”
“Not my style. I prefer this stable and well balanced curricle.”
Interesting. That choice rather matched the man she was coming to know. Whether she wanted to know him or not.
Boudicca scanned the park. Despite knowing they were here to be seen, she equally wanted to observe everything around her. Some women were walking casually with friends and family, while others were dressed in deceivingly expensive gowns in hopes of discreetly garnering attention from someone of the male variety. The same way a woman’s clothing reflected her values and personality, a man’s choice of transportation conveyed his true self.
As they continued to make their way through the park, Boudicca snuck a peek at the duke from the corner of her eyes. His build was long and full. Broad shoulders, no padding in his jackets. And he had a classic look, with dark blues and creams. No one could claim an ounce of ostentatiousness about him. If he wasn’t as haughty as he was, she might admit that a natural attraction could develop. Then again, his stone cold mien was a bit off-putting.
At that moment, she noticed a flicker in the stone. As if it could grow any tighter…yet it did. Something minute, perhaps another person wouldn’t have recognized it in him. It was a strange feeling indeed to take note of it herself. How she could read him to any degree was befuddling.
All the same, it was there. A colder coldness. When Boudicca followed his gaze, she saw the source of his reaction.
A gorgeous, slim, brunette—Lady Simone, if Boudicca recalled—was in an open carriage heading toward them. They were about to cross paths. It was a curious point that the duke would be steeling himself for such an encounter. True, she was a beautiful—
“—talker.”
Boudicca blinked her eyes, startled that he had been speaking to her and she hadn’t noticed.
“Talker?”
He flicked his eyes toward the dowager. “She’s the kind that likes to talk.”
Affronted for the female gender, Boudicca raised her brows. “And the affinity for conversation is something to disdain?”
“Only when it’s an affinity for spreading falsehoods,” he shot back.
She should have been paying more attention to his words than his body. What kind of woman was she becoming? Only around him, mind, but really, it was rather a nuisance to be so distracted.
“Well, yes. Of course, one should limit the gossip one partakes in.”
“So I guess the word will be out this afternoon.”
“The word?” She was feeling a bit simple, but it was better to ask and know than remain silent and pretend to know.
“The word that I’m courting you.”
She sputtered, “You’re courting me?”
“I’m sure I’ve done my part in making that obvious.” He cast a glance at her over his shoulder. “The visits. Plural. The flowers. Plural. The chocolate and the gift. You must recognize the signs.”
“I suppose the signs are there. But signs can have multiple interpretations.” At times. She was pretty sure of the signs he was sending her, but it had been a while since she had been the recipient of such signs, and really, what was he all about? Her family was known for being eccentric. No one had courted her in ages. Why him? A handsome and powerful duke. And why now?
“Come now, you can’t say you didn’t know my intentions.”
“I very well will say that I don’t know your intentions. In fact, you bring up a very valid question. What are your intentions, precisely?”
He straightened his spine, and murmured, “It’s not the time.”
“What better time—”
“Good afternoon, Lady Simone,” he called out. A bit early if Boudicca was being persnickety, which she was.
The slightly widened eyes of Lady Simone confirmed Boudicca’s judgment. The duke was obviously avoiding her question. Well, he couldn’t avoid it forever. She would see to that.
“Good afternoon, Your Grace.”
“Lady Simone.”
The ladies dipped their heads in acknowledgment of each other. Though it had to be noted that Lady Simone cast her a wary eye, which made Boudicca wonder what the lady knew of the duke. And how well she knew it exactly.
There was some small chatter, about a ball, or something. But at the mention of a fencing tournament, Boudicca’s ears perked up.
“Will you and the Duke of Cadmore be joining the upcoming fencing tournament again?”
“Of course.” The subtle movement of the duke’s jaw tensing caught her eye.
“Best of luck to you. This time.” It was a clear mocking tone. And as if it were a side note, she added, “See you at the garden party later this week, Lady Boudicca.”
He grunted, dipped his head and flicked the reins.
“I didn’t realize you fenced?” Boudicca inquired. This line of conversation was of great interest to her.
Through clenched teeth, he said, “Yes, I do.”
“Are you any good?” And really, it wasn’t meant to be challenging, or mocking, or anything. It was a simple, direct question.
“You obviously heard that I lost the last tournament.”
“Actually, I did not hear of that.” Though she wasn’t sure how she hadn’t heard of it. She always tried to keep apprised of all fencing-related news amongst the ton .
And then there wasn’t time to clear up the misperception that she wasn’t taunting him because another carriage was rolling toward them. The dowager Duchess of Melson (who should really just be referred to as The Meddler, or maybe Meddling Melson) was soon upon them.
“Good day to you, Duke.” Her brows were already waggling, and her lip was curled into a smile. “Lady Boudicca.”
“And you, Madame.”
Boudicca smiled in return.
“What fine company to find you in. I hadn’t realized you two were acquainted. I’ve known Lady Boudicca since she was just a young girl. I’m glad to finally see her in worthy…amity.” She winked. It wasn’t discreet in the least. But for whatever reason, it caused Boudicca to grow increasingly aware of the man beside her. The one apparently courting her. The one she didn’t trust was courting her. Yet, the one who was a hot-blooded, stone-cut of a man quite nearly touching her thigh, now that she thought about it. She scooted away from the fire. The hot-blooded stone. Or whatever he was.
“Yes, he’s a good friend.” Realizing the vague definition of good friend , she hurried to clarify. “Not a close friend. But a good man—person. He’s…erm…nice. Enough.” Botheration! Never, ever in her life had she stuttered so. What the deuce had come over her?
A gentle chuckle rumbled beside her. “Yes, well, thank you for that, Lady Boudicca.” He turned to The Meddler. “It does her justice to have someone speak to her long standing character.”
“I can’t say enough about her. Do you know about her love for fen—”
“Oh, I nearly forgot the time. Apologies, Your Grace, but I have to return home.” There was no chance that Boudicca wanted the duke to know her secret love of fencing. Not yet, at least. The duchess, though a meddler, was not a gossip. The two dominating roles in the ton were quite distinct. To Boudicca’s knowledge, the duchess had kept the daughters’ secrets to herself. So it was unexpected that she was about to spill the tea now. And not even over tea.
It was time to leave. Thankfully, the duchess was already waving her goodbye.
“I think that was enough of a carriage ride for one day, don’t you, Your Grace?” Boudicca smoothed her skirts and picked a few flecks of fluff from her sleeves. Surely she needed to get out of the warm summer sun before freckles sprouted. Not that she cared about that, but any excuse for space from the duke would do right about now.
“A gossip and a meddler both in one day compels me to agree with your evaluation.” He turned the horses to head back to her house.
Despite a faint sense of a sinking in her shoulders, she was relieved. Quite relieved, she confirmed to herself.
“I shall call on you tomorrow then. We’ll go for ices.”
“Typical,” she muttered. Did he think that just because he was a duke that he could call on her any old time that he wanted and that she would just have to accept his call? Well, yes, that was the way of society. So yes, she expected she would accept his call. Again.
Ices didn’t seem so bad. If it weren’t for the fact that it was all just so typical. A home visit. A carriage ride. Ices. It’s what every courting couple did. Boudicca assumed that if one day she were to ever find a love match, it wouldn’t be so deuced typical. If she were to ever accept that a man was truly interested in her for herself, he would have to be different than the other men that had courted her. She would have a sense of who he was, before he even told her. And he would somehow know things about her as well.
Caught in her ruminations yet again, Boudicca started when the carriage lurched to a stop in front of her house. She would see him tomorrow. For ices. Well, for that, she was already forming a plan in her mind. So it would likely not be typical at all tomorrow.
And then he had to go and say something that almost made her rethink her scheming.
“Just for the record, I find you nice…enough…as well.”