Ducal Encounters 02 - With the Duke's Approval

by Wendy Soliman

  “I am very grateful to you. You saved me from a lot of pain.”

  “I did not explain in the hope of earning your gratitude.”

  “Yes, I know that.” She looked away from him. “How will you find this warehouse again?” she asked after a brief pause.

  “We are at New Gravel Lane now and the tree you used as a staircase is in Cotes Gardens. We shall find it again easily now we know where to look. And, if I am not much mistaken, there is an inn along here on the right which must be where you liberated Betty.”

  Lady Annalise was quiet as the carriage made slow progress along the busy thoroughfare. Her hands trembled and he instinctively clasped it in one in his, telling himself he had only done so because she required comfort. The fact that he had been fighting the urge to touch her ever since he foolishly agreed to sit beside her had nothing to do with his decision.

  “It’s all right,” he said softly. “You are perfectly safe in this carriage.”

  “You make me feel safe, Lord Romsey,” she said, turning towards him, her eyes luminous, compelling. A man could drown in such captivating eyes if he didn’t have a care.

  “Don’t say that. I don’t deserve it.” Her complete faith in his abilities made him feel inadequate. “I have already let you down.”

  “I say it because it is true, and you have not let me down. It is you who ought to be disappointed in me. I never did learn to do as I am told.”

  Clarence was at a loss to know what to say, a circumstance so unusual as to give him pause. In his time as a diplomat he had dealt with disquieted monarchy, heads of state who wished to tear one another to pieces, squabbling politicians of all persuasions, and had always known precisely what to say to defuse sensitive situations with tact and humour. And yet, a mere slip of a girl had left him speechless. Remarkable!

  “There, up ahead, is the Three Bells,” he said pointing, glad of the opportunity to speak about something more mundane. “Does it look familiar?”

  She bit her lip again and nodded. “That is where I concealed myself when I heard my captors talking to the night porter,” she said, pointing to a pile of barrels at the edge of the mews. The hand he was clasping continued to tremble. “I am absolutely certain about that.”

  “Then I shall be able to make the appropriate recompense for the loss of Betty, and you will own her.”

  “Thank you, but I am sure Zach will be happy to pay.”

  “Perhaps so, but I insist.”

  “Very well,” she said softly. “Have it your way.”

  Clarence tapped his cane twice on the roof, and Pierce pushed the horses into a trot, taking Lady Annalise away from the scene of her nightmare as quickly as possible. Her captors had taken her a considerable distance from familiar territory, and she never would have made it home on foot, even in good weather, without being accosted. Or worse. The fact that she managed it on horseback still astonished Clarence.

  “I assume you and Betty crossed a bridge over the river at some point.”

  “Yes, I told Betty it was necessary and she found the way for me. I doubt I would have managed it alone.”

  “Westminster Bridge, I dare say,” Clarence said, almost to himself.

  “Perhaps. Does it matter?”

  “Not in the least.” He smiled at her, seeing no reason to release her hand. “You have been a great help this afternoon, Lady Annalise, and I know it has not been easy for you. But at least now, we have something, a clue, to work with. ”

  “Then I am glad. But I must be keeping you from important matters of state,” she said after a brief pause.

  “My only concern at present is discovering what von Hessel is up to, and others are hard at work in that regard even as we speak.”

  “Then I must be keeping you from your leisure pursuits.”

  What the devil was she asking him? “Not at all.”

  She fixed him with a penetrating gaze. “You do have leisure pursuits that help you relax, do you not, Lord Romsey?”

  “I don’t have a great deal of time to please myself.”

  “Oh, but that is so sad. Surely, you belong to clubs, like my brothers do, and…well, do whatever they do in those clubs. Play cards, drink more than you should, and relax without having to mind your manners because you are in all male company.” Her lips quirked. “But I suppose you belong to all the political clubs, so you are never really at your leisure.”

  “Something of that nature,” Clarence replied in an absent tone he hoped would discourage further probing on her part. Naturally, it did not.

  “When you are in Southampton, please tell me you hunt, and fish, and shoot.”

  “Unfortunately I cannot often spare the time.”

  Mischief danced in her eyes. “Shame on your, Lord Romsey.”

  No one had ever asked him about his leisure pursuits before. Nor had it occurred to him to mind that he did not have any. He wasn’t about to tell her that he couldn’t remember the last time he had driven in the park, or that he only used the location for private meetings with diplomatic contacts whom it wouldn’t do to be seen with in society.

  “You will wear yourself out if you do nothing but work.”

  “I am not working now,” he pointed out mildly.

  “In a sense you are, because we would not be here if it were not for what happened to me. And I wager the moment you return me home, you will bury your head in your dull papers again.”

  It was the truth, and he saw little point in denying it. “I am entirely at your disposal, Lady Annalise,” he replied gallantly.

  “I understand just how occupied the wicked foreign secretary keeps you nowadays, my lord, but what about when you were younger? What pleasures did you enjoy then?”

  Clarence turned a splutter into a cough, convinced she could not realize what she had asked him. “The same things as your brothers, I dare say.”

  “I saw you play cricket at the Park last summer, but I don’t suppose you make a habit of it. Do you enjoy long rides, just for the pleasure of riding? Did you swim in lakes during your holidays, or indulge your pugilistic tendencies? My brothers did all of those things, very frequently, and many others besides.”

  “You forget I am an only child.”

  “Yes, but you must have had friends to stay.” When he shook his head, she frowned, seemingly concerned about his lonely childhood. A childhood that had not seemed lonely until that moment. “Surely you did not spend the holidays alone?”

  Images of sitting at one end of a long dining table with his austere father at its head filled his memories. His father conducted conversations with Clarence in Latin or Greek, or whatever language happened to take his fancy. Woe betide Clarence if he failed to understand or fluffed his responses. The parental punishments could be brutal, always humiliating, and often very public. Clarence felt his face flush with anger as he recalled the times he had been obliged to lower his breeches and bend over the table while his father birched his backside for some minor incorrect response, always in full view of the servants.

  Often the questions would be on delicate political situations of the day, his pater demanded to know how Clarence would resolve them. Training, always training. It had seemed perfectly normal at the time, simply because Clarence didn’t know any better. The prospect of being punished, of failing to meet his father’s expectations, turned him into a diligent student who took pleasure from excelling.

  “I ought to take you home,” he said abruptly.

  “I’m sorry. I did not mean to speak out of turn. Sometimes, especially when I am nervous, my tongue runs away with me.”

  “Do I make you nervous, Lady Annalise?” Clarence realised he had been scowling and softened his expression. “I can assure you that is not my intention.”

  “No, not nervous precisely.” She did not elaborate, and Clarence didn’t invite her to. “Please don’t return me home quite yet,” she said softly.

  Clarence fixed her with a look of polite enquiry. “There is something else you
would like to do?”

  “Yes, I would like to drive in the park, if you can spare the time to escort me.” Her eyes burned with an unfathomable emotion. “I need a little time to recover my composure before I face my family.”

  “Of course.”

  Clarence leaned from the window and gave Pierce instructions. He released Lady Annalise’s hand in order to do so and thought it wise not to recapture it. He studied her profile as they continued their journey in a taut, charged silence. She had handled the sight of the warehouse better than he had anticipated, but he could see she was still badly affected by the experience. Was that why she had enquired about his interests? She needed a new direction for her thoughts. Clarence was glad to have been of service, even if the memories his responses evoked had been difficult for him. Better he should be discomposed, rather than she.

  “I doubt too many fashionable people will be in the park in this weather,” he remarked, just for something to say. “Shall you mind?”

  “Not in the least.” She turned to face him, her eyes bright with expectancy. Expectancy of what precisely? “I need to do normal things, to feel alive, to…oh, I don’t know. Being at Sheridan House is not exactly a hardship, but I still feel too confined sometimes. City life does not agree with me. I miss the freedom of the country, you see.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Goodness, how can I complain about my privileged lot when I saw for myself how the wretched creatures in the east end have to live day in and day out? How quickly I seem to have forgotten their plight. Well, not forgotten precisely. Still, whatever must you think of me?”

  Clarence couldn’t possibly answer without being economical with the truth. “Here, we are at the park,” he said, as the carriage reached Hyde Park Corner and turned in through the gate. “And, as I suspected, we have it almost to ourselves.”

  The paths were clear, but snow still covered the grass. He noticed Lady Annalise’s expression brighten as she observed it.

  “Shall we walk?” she suggested.

  “Are you sure you are well enough? Your brothers will skin me alive if you suffer a setback.”

  “I need exercise.”

  “Very well.”

  Clarence tapped on the roof again and the carriage rattled to a halt. He helped her alight from it, proffered his arm, and they commenced strolling along the gravel walk.

  “Be careful. It’s slippery under foot.”

  She threw her head back, breathed deeply of the crisp air, and sent him a radiant smile. “This is so much better.”

  “I am glad it pleases you.”

  “I imagine your head is full of important things you ought to be doing. I am sorry to be keeping you from them.”

  “There is nowhere else I would prefer to be.”

  Her trilling laughter rang through the air. “Gallantly said, Lord Romsey, but I don’t believe a word of it.”

  “You think I lie?”

  “I think diplomacy is second nature to you.” Her eyes twinkled up at him from beneath her silly little veil. “There is a difference, I feel sure.”

  “How do you occupy your time when you are in London, Lady Annalise?”

  “Oh, doing the usual things. Making and receiving calls, attending all the right soirees, seeing, and being seen. I do get to ride in the park, but always with a groom.” She turned up her nose. “And always at a sedate pace.”

  He smiled, endlessly amused by her frankness, so at variance to the way he had been taught to think and behave. “How tiresome.”

  “Precisely. Last year was my first season, and I found it quite interesting. This year I am already bored.”

  “And yet I saw for myself just how ardently you were pursued by your horde of admirers at the duchess’s ball. Is that not what every young lady desires?”

  “Not this young lady.” She tossed her head. “Most of the men who take an interest in me do so because they need my money.”

  Clarence smothered a smile. That frankness again. “And write dreadful poetry in celebration of your eyes.”

  “Precisely so. I have yet to find any gentleman who is intelligent enough to hold my interest for more than five minutes. I think perhaps men of my own age are not mature enough to satisfy something inside me.”

  Once again, Clarence was obliged to smother his reaction with a cough. Was she hinting at an interest in him, or was her frankness once again making her indiscrete. In case it was the former, it seemed only right to warn her off.

  “And yet age disparity in matrimony can create more problems than it resolves.”

  She canted her head and peered up at him. “What a very strange comment to make. I know of many successful marriages in which the age difference is quite considerable.”

  “Be that as it may…” Clarence broke off when Lady Annalise’s hand left his sleeve and she darted onto the snowy grass. “Have a care! You may slip and fall.”

  “Nonsense.” She stretched her arms wide and whirled in a circle. “I already told you, I love snow.”

  And it was evident that she did. Colour had returned to her face, and her bruises no longer seemed quite so stark against her alabaster skin. Her eyes came alight as she continued to dance through the crisp piles of snow, not seeming to mind that the hem of her gown was getting sodden. Her joy communicated itself to him, and it was all Clarence could do not to join in her carefree celebration of life. Given the ordeal she had just survived, he did not have it in him to try and prevent her.

  “I am sure you have never enjoyed a snowball fight.”

  Before he could formulate a response, a heavy mound of snow struck his shoulder with pinpoint accuracy. She laughed aloud and bent down to collect more ammunition. Clarence felt recklessness overtake caution. Such actions could not go unrevenged. He bent to collect snow for his own arsenal and slowly mounded it between his gloved hands.

  “I never have,” he replied, laughing at the sheer joy evidenced in her expression. “But I am willing to learn.”

  Without giving her time to take evasive action, he let his snowball fly. It caught her arm and slithered slowly down her skirts, rapidly melting as it hit the ground. She laughed louder.

  “Is that the best you can manage?”

  Her next missile whizzed past his ear, causing Lady Annalise to let forth with a most unladylike curse.

  “I don’t need to ask where you learned such language. I am surprised your brothers are so lax in your company.”

  “Oh, don’t blame them.” She executed a careless shrug. “Portia and I used to sneak up on them when they were home from school and listen to their conversations. It was the only way to learn anything interesting.”

  She swirled in another circle, stumbled, and almost fell. Clarence was at her side in an instant, grabbing her arm to prevent an accident for which he would be held responsible. He pulled her upright, and her body collided with his. Hard. It appeared to knock the wind out of her. Her laughter faded, her lips parted in a startled oh, and she looked up at him with an expression of wide-eyed curiosity. Clarence cursed as his arms slid around her to keep her safe, quite without his permission, and suddenly time stood still. He sensed the rapid beating of her heart and felt her glorious curves pressed inappropriately against him through the multiple layers of their clothing.

  “I did warn you,” he said softly, lowering his head until his breath peppered her face. Her expression was wary yet curious, as though she expected him to kiss her. As though she hoped he would. Never had he wanted to do anything more, and he almost certainly would have forgotten himself, except for the sound of carriage wheels on the gravel path that caused them to jump guiltily apart.

  Too late.

  “Damnation!” Clarence muttered beneath his breath.

  The carriage slowed almost to a halt, its occupants staring at him and Lady Annalise with a combination of excitement and almost certainly faked censure.

  “Oh Lord.” Lady Annalise clapped a hand over her mouth. “Unless I mistake the matter, we have just been obse
rved having a snowball fight by Mrs. Anderson and her daughter, of all people.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Clarence felt momentarily disadvantaged, unsure what to do for the best. He prided himself on having lightening quick responses in sensitive situations. But this particular sensitive situation could not be fixed with diplomacy. Mrs. Anderson had not seen the innocent consequences of a snowball fight. Instead, she had observed Clarence holding Lady Annalise in his arms. He had no difficulty imagining what she would make of that delicious en dit.

  “Come,” he said tersely, recovering his composure. He grasped Lady Annalise’s elbow, and conducted her back to his carriage.

  “I’m sorry, Lord Romsey,” she replied. “Once again I have caused difficulties for you, and that was most certainly not my intention.”

  She had caused difficulties for both of them, but did not appear to have grasped the ramifications of her actions quite yet. As they re-entered the carriage, Clarence paused to order Pierce to drive around the park. This time he seated himself across from Lady Annalise, even though the damage was already done, and he could have legitimately enjoyed sitting in close proximity to his beautiful, wilful and impetuous companion. But what he had to say to her required no such distractions.

  “You look very severe,” she said tentatively when they had driven for a while in tense silence. “We were only having a snowball fight. It was unfortunate Mrs. Anderson happened to come along, especially because she resents me, but she cannot make anything out of what she saw.”

  “Why does she resent you so much? What have you done to offend her?”

  “Absolutely nothing…well, she wants Lord Roker for her daughter, but his lordship pursues me, and Mrs. Anderson has got it into her head that I encourage him.” She rolled her eyes. “Ridiculous woman!”