Loving The Lost Duke (Dangerous Deceptions #1)(17)







Chapter Five - Where the Duke is Provoking


By half past one the next day Sophie had written a careful note to Ralph thanking him for his invitation but pleading an earlier, unspecified, engagement; had resisted her mother’s attempts to rig her out in her very newest walking dress and bonnet and had wrestled with the tricky question of how one indicated to a gentleman that, while he had done nothing to offend you, you did not wish to be courted by him. Which was made even trickier because it would be truly, hideously, embarrassing if the Duke was doing no such thing and it was all in her imagination.

The Duke of Calderbrook appeared to feel they shared a secret intimacy because he had overheard her conversation with Toby. She supposed, in way, they did, for no gentleman should have such an insight into the mind of a well-bred young lady on such a sensitive subject as marriage. Certainly she felt he understood her in a way that no man, including her stepfather and Toby, did. Ralph Thorne never showed any awareness of her emotions, although he was usually sensitive enough to her mood.

She dithered over which pair of gloves to wear. Tan? No, hideous with the blue of her walking dress. Black? No, that looked as though she was in mourning. Oh, for goodness sake! She seized a pair of blue ones which were just the wrong shade to match, ignored her maid’s protest at the contrast, and jerked them on. The Duke was not courting her, she was most certainly not trying to attract him and the shade of her dratted gloves was the kind of trivial, brainless detail that empty-headed girls spent hours worrying about.

‘There’s the knocker, Miss Wilmott.’ Mary was edging closer as though to make a grab for the unsatisfactory gloves.

‘Yes.’ Sophie closed her fingers firmly around her reticule and escaped.

The Duke was making polite conversation with Mama in the drawing room. At least Step Papa had the tact not to appear too. That would have made it all too obvious that the pair of them were assessing a potential suitor.

‘Miss Wilmott.’ He was on his feet fast, smoothly, without any indication that his shoulder was handicapping him.

She bobbed a curtsy, saw Mama cast a startled glance at the gloves, which in the brighter light of the drawing room were most certainly the wrong shade, and smiled. ‘Good afternoon, Your Grace. I am quite ready, I wouldn’t want to keep your horses standing.’

‘You are thoughtful, thank you.’ He said nothing further until they were out on the front steps, then he asked, ‘What do you think of them?’

A gentleman soliciting her opinion on his horses? Unheard of. Most men assumed their judgement was perfect in such matters and that she would be admiring whether the beasts were knock-kneed, spavined or sway-backed. ‘I think they look magnificent from here.’ Sophie went down to the pavement and across to look at their heads, then their backs and quarters. ‘Perfect confirmation, kind eyes and they seem very steady as they stand there. What are they like in traffic?’

‘Steady there too. I would not be taking you out if they weren’t. Excitement is one thing, recklessness when I have one useful arm, quite another.’ Cal came to help her up into the high seat, then went round to the other side to climb in before he adjusted the carriage rug over her knees. ‘I thought you would prove to have a good eye.’

Ridiculous to be flattered. Foolish to feel a skip of her heart when he mentioned excitement. ‘Why should you think so?’

‘Your dapple mare. Stand away from their heads, Ben.’ The tiger scuttled round to the back and swung himself up onto his tiny perch.

‘She was a present from my stepfather.’ Sophie resisted the instinct to clutch at the side rail of the phaeton as it moved away from the kerb. On its long springs the motion of the carriage was like being suspended in a swing.

‘Who bought her without consulting you?’ Cal sent her a sliding, sideways look that made her laugh.

‘No, after consulting me.’

He eased the reins and the pair stepped out, black tails swishing, glossy rumps gleaming. ‘No, walk. And you have seen a lamp post before, and a dog, you air-headed creature.’ He touched the right-hand horse lightly with the whip and glanced at her again when she laughed. ‘That’s the dim one. His brother got all the brains.’ He eased the reins again and they began to trot, perfectly balanced.

Good horses or very assured driving? She suspected both. ‘Where are you taking me, Duke?’

‘I was waiting to see what you were wearing. That isn’t a new outfit, so I assume you are not eager to show it off along Rotten Row. Green Park is rather – What?’

‘How do you know this is not new?’ Sophie demanded. ‘It is a perfectly nice walking outfit.’

‘I never said it was not, although I would have said charming rather than nice, if you had asked. But you wouldn’t have been so careless over your choice of gloves if it had been brand spanking new.’

‘I was… distracted. And then my maid so obviously wanted to make a fuss about them that I was stubborn.’ It was her turn to send a sideways glance. Cal’s eyes were firmly forward, watching the road, but the corner of his mouth twitched. ‘Don’t laugh at me.’

‘I would not dream of it. I think the northern end of Hyde Park and then perhaps Gunther’s for an ice if this sunshine stays with us?’

‘That would be delightful.’ And a route over the hillocks and dips of that end of the park which would be interesting in this vehicle. Ralph always drove her sedately around Green Park, or along Rotten Row if it was the fashionable time to be seen there.

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