Chapter 10
Ten
“Lady Deena, it’s a pleasure to be your first—I mean first partner in the Greystone Gallop.” Lord Harrowby, the Earl of Edenburgh, greeted Deena nervously.
He was an earnest, quiet, and freckled man with the kindest eyes. But Deena felt nothing but camaraderie towards the man as he sat across from her, red-faced and hands shaking slightly over the hourglass.
Deena smiled sweetly at him. “Shall we begin, Lord Harrowby?”
“Y—yes, my lady,” Lord Harrowby stuttered, his cheeks already turning an alarming shade of scarlet as he fumbled with the hourglass.
His fingers shook so badly that sand trickled unevenly before he managed to flip it properly.
“I—I understand you have lately returned from Paris. Do… do tell—did you visit any art galleries?”
Deena offered a polite smile, folding her hands in her lap to hide her amusement. The poor man looked as though he might bolt if she breathed too loudly. “Only the gardens, my lord. I have been studying and had no time for leisure.”
“Ah!” He brightened for a moment, then seemed to realize he needed to respond further. His gaze darted everywhere before settling somewhere near her left ear. “The gardens are… are magnificent. Truly. All those fountains and—and hedges. Though I daresay not as magnificent as English roses.”
He leaned forward an inch, then apparently thought better of it, and jerked back as if the table had burned him. “Present company included, of course,” he added in a rush, voice cracking on the last word.
Deena’s smile remained fixed; she prayed the awkwardness twisting inside her did not show on her face. “How sweet—”
Across the way, she heard the Countess of Harrow laugh too loudly at something Austin had said. Her gaze landed on him, and she was surprised to see him smirking at her. Despite her annoyance, she felt her skin prickle under his stare.
Deena bit the inside of her cheek.
Lord Harrowby cleared his throat for her attention. “Th—thank you, Lady Deena. For your time.”
“Oh, I—” She hadn’t noticed that their three minutes was over.
“You aren’t like other ladies,” he said before he stood up. “I—I meant that as a compliment! You’re— you’re—”
The bell rang, signaling the swap.
Lord Harrowby looked devastated before he continued to the next table, and Deena felt slightly guilty.
Yet she could not help herself; she turned her head to look at Austin, who sat opposite a lady she recognized but couldn’t quite remember. The young woman was strikingly beautiful, and Deena swore she met her before.
“Lady Deena! I collect porcelain. Do you admire porcelain?” Lord Bennington, a stout and florid viscount, wasted no time when he sat opposite her.
Deena tore her eyes away from Austin and tried to focus on the man in front of her.
“I admire many things,” she answered him carefully.
“Capital! I have a Meissen shepherdess that would look charming on your mantel.”
“I have no mantel at present.”
“Ah. Well. When you do, I have the most beautiful collection for whoever I choose to marry.”
Lord Bennington spoke for what felt like hours about porcelain before the bell rang and saved her again. Deena’s eyes shifted back to Austin. He glanced at her, the corners of his mouth lifted and the beautiful lady opposite him seemed to realize their exchange. Deena panicked and looked away.
Damn him.
But just from a look, heat gathered low in her stomach.
The next swap took place. Austin sat at a table with Lady Amelia, who was already giggling. He looked relaxed and charming as ever. Lord Monthall arrived next, but everyone was aware of his recent engagement.
“Lady Deena, I must congratulate you on your safe return from abroad.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
“I wonder…do you find English weather trying after the Parisian climate?” he asked politely and Deena had to stop herself from groaning out loud in frustration.
“I find English conversation trying after Parisian silence,” she muttered under her breath.
He blinked. “Oh, I… see.”
“’ I did not mean with you, Lord Monthall,” she added hurriedly.
“It’s quite all right, Lady Deena. I understand how you feel.”
Deena frowned. “I’m curious…how do I feel?”
“We both would rather be sitting with one person rather than all of them.” Lord Monthall’s eyes wandered towards Lady Belle, who was already looking at him helplessly.
“I apologize, Lord Monthall, but I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Ah, but you do know what I mean.” He smiled coyly at her.
The bell rang, and he left as swiftly as he arrived. Deena sat stock still as Lord Monthall’s words enveloped her.
Did he see something?
She stole another glance at Austin. He had moved to Lady Ann, who was gesturing animatedly with her fan.
Although the ladies offered him an extension, he accepted none of them, and Deena did not understand why she felt relieved.
Gentleman after gentleman sat in front of her, offering her dull conversations or hilariously awkward ones.
I’ll be sure to write to Penelope about the things men say in a hurry.
The thought of her friend snapped Deena back to her present situation, like a bucket of icy water dashed over her fevered skin.
There was no time for mooning over the dark and infuriating Duke of Windemere.
She had a mission. She had a blackmailer and a friend, who had become her only true family in Paris, to protect.
Yet even as duty asserted itself, the memory of Duke’s kiss flooded her senses.
Austin’s mouth on hers was hot, commanding, and he coaxed her surrender with devastating skill.
His strong hands slid possessively over her waist. The graze of his lips along the sensitive column of her throat, the faint rasp of stubble that had made her shiver and arch towards him, silently begging for more.
Deena pressed her thighs together beneath her skirts, heat pulsing low and insistent. She was in deep trouble, and the worst part was how she wanted to sink further.
“Lady Deena?”
The tentative voice pulled her from her reverie. Deena blinked, focusing on the young man now seated opposite her.
Viscount Duncan, she thought. Her grandmother had tried to get him around Deena from the beginning of the Hunt, but that plan failed when she bumped into Austin.
“Oh, please forgive me, my lord,” she said quickly, straightening. “I was… miles away.”
He offered a kind smile. This time, when Deena looked across, it was Austin who was already staring. His gaze was intense and almost possessive. A hot shiver ran up her spine.
“You look as red as a tomato. Have you eaten this morning? The dowager’s cook does a splendid seed cake if you’d like me to fetch one.” Lord Duncan offered.
Deena felt warmth rise in her cheeks, touched despite herself by his concern. The Viscount was a handsome man with a respectful reputation in the ton, but she still felt no connection to him.
“I’m perfectly well, thank you,” she assured him. “I must be fatigued by the day. Please, do go on.”
But just before he could continue, the bell rang.
“I’m terribly sorry, Lord Duncan.”
“No need to apologize, my lady. Better luck with the next one.” He winked at her and made his departure.
Deena clasped her hands tightly in her lap, knuckles whitening as she stared down at them, willing the ground to open and swallow her whole.
She felt utterly adrift in this absurd Greystone Gallop, in the entire Duke Hunt, and in England itself.
The chatter around her sounded foreign, the rules of this glittering game incomprehensible.
And she was finished with mooning over Austin.
No more scanning crowded lawns for a glimpse of him.
She drew a resolute breath, determination rising like armor. Then a familiar scent drifted over her.
“Are you praying for my arrival, Lady Dee?”
“Or should I call you Lady Veritas?” Austin smiled down at Deena; he prayed to God that the gentleman before him hadn’t caused her to blush so deeply.
“Can we not speak of that in such a public space?”
Austin chuckled as he dropped into the seat opposite her with lazy grace. He left the table he was supposed to be at, along with a clearly disappointed lady, and swapped with Deena’s partner before she noticed.
“We have three minutes,” he said slyly as he picked up the hourglass and flipped it. “Starting now.”
Deena’s hands fluttered to the tabletop. “Why did you abandon your rotation?”
“I negotiated a transfer,” he said nonchalantly. “We have business to talk about. Don’t we?”
“Yes, but—”
“I see you have published my scandal.” He cut her off and smirked.
Deena blushed. “Yes, are you delighted that half the ton has been scandalized by your actions?”
“Very much so.” He smiled, but it didn’t last long. “Did it buy you some time?”
“I’m not sure if it did, but I haven’t received any letters yet.”
“You have to let me know if you do receive anything. And I will be keeping an eye on you, Dee. If a blackmailer stops his threats, it could mean one of three things.”
Deena gulped. “What are these three things?”
“The scandal either satisfied him and did the job, or he found what he was looking for, or…”
“Or what?” she asked loudly and immediately clasped her mouth.
“Or…he’s on his way.”
“Oh…”
Fear riddled her eyes, and he silently promised to protect her at all costs. Deena fiddled with her fingers in her lap, and Austin felt terrible for being the bearer of shocking news, but he was just like her; his title was at stake, too.
“All you need to know, Dee, is that no one will harm you.”
She seemed to calm down a bit, and they exchanged knowing looks.
“I take it that you approve of the article?” Deena eventually asked.
“I do approve, thank you. I thoroughly enjoyed the title of it…above all.”
She ignored his compliment. “Yes, I believe that the wife search will go well after that article.”
“Ah, yes! Speaking of which, are there any promising candidates?”
Her eyes darted away from him.