Ducal Encounters 02 - With the Duke's Approval (21 page)

“I am pleased to be of service.”

Clarence removed one hand from the reins and placed it over hers. “You are a very great deal more than that to me.”

She arched a brow. “Why, Clarence, I do believe you are being romantic.”

He removed his hand and concentrated on controlling his thoroughbred. Having placed his hooves on the gallops, he was anxious to speed off.

“Shall we?” he asked.

“With the greatest of pleasure.”

They gave the horses their heads and sped off along the wide path left muddy by melted snow. Clumps of sodden earth flew into their faces, churned up by flying hooves. Clarence knew better than to make allowances for her. His horse was built for speed, but Annalise appeared to have acquired the same competitive streak all her brothers enjoyed. Light in her saddle as she leaned forward over Betty’s withers, her beautiful face lit up an uncontrived smile of pleasure. Clarence was so enraptured, so caught up with watching her that he missed a turn in the path and almost came to grief. Her musical laughter rang out as she watched him right himself in his saddle and sped ahead, reaching the end of the gallop fractionally ahead of him.

“Well done,” he said, reining his mount in.

“You were not concentrating,” she said in an accusing tone. She was breathing hard, and his attention was caught by the swell of her breasts pressing against the fabric of her bodice. It took a monumental effort of will to tear his gaze away from such a compelling sight.

“Something distracted me,” he replied evasively. “How did Betty go? A stupid question really, since the pair of you beat one of the finest thoroughbreds in town.”

“She was wonderful, and you did not really try!” Annalise patted the mare’s sweaty neck as they slowed the horses to a walk, giving them time to cool off before returning to Berkeley Square.

“I am glad she gives you pleasure.”

“It is not so very hard, is it?” she asked a short time later.

“I beg your pardon. To what are you referring?”

“Riding simply for riding’s sake, and taking pleasure from the experience.”

“That rather depends upon whom one rides with.”

“Really?” She arched a brow. “I notice you did not agree to having enjoyed yourself. I dare say you are thinking about all the ways you could so much more profitably be employing your time. That is most unflattering! I hope you are not dissatisfied with my company already.”

“Dissatisfied, yes, but never with your company.”

“My, Clarence, have a care. You have paid me several compliments this afternoon,
and
done something reckless.” Her sultry, teasing smile added to his dissatisfaction, but not for reasons she was likely to comprehend. “I do believe there is hope for you yet.”

“I must take your word for that since I have no idea how you want me to behave.”

“I want you to be yourself,” she replied, so quietly that he almost didn’t hear her. “The person you are supposed to be, not the one your father turned you into.”

“Then we both have surprises in store. And I am entirely at your service.”

“Hmm, until an affair of state calls for your attention.”

“I hope I will not prove to be such an inconstant husband.”

She took one hand from the reins and shook a finger at him. “You are getting ahead of yourself again.”

“Here we are,” Clarence said, turning his horse in the direction of Winchester’s mews. “I shall see you safely inside and return to dine this evening.”

They left their horses in the care of the grooms and entered the house through a side door. Annalise’s face broke out into another wide smile when she noticed the paraphernalia of arrival in the entrance vestibule.

“Amos must be here!” she cried.

She dashed ahead of Clarence into the drawing room, where the entire family was gathered. Amos Sheridan and his new wife Crista were in their midst, still wearing their travelling clothes.

“Amos!”

Annalise threw herself into his arms. Amos turned at the sound of his name, smiled, picked his sister up, and swung her around.

“I hear you’ve been living up to our name for you again, Trouble,” he said, placing her back on her feet.

Clarence already had a fair notion how her brothers had come to christen her
Trouble
.

“It was
not
my fault!”

Amos chuckled. “It never is.” He held her at arm’s length and examined her face, tutting when he saw her fading bruises. “Are you sure you are all right?”

“Yes. I was frightened, but it all worked out for the best.”

“So I understand.” He looked towards Clarence and held out his hand. “Congratulations, Romsey. I hope you know what you have agreed to take on.”

“I am rapidly discovering the truth,” Clarence replied calmly.

Annalise was now in close conversation with Crista and so Clarence quizzed Amos about the papers he had brought with him.

“No idea what’s in them,” Amos said. “I didn’t pause to read them, but it’s just as well I got them when I did.”

Everyone in the room was now listening to them.

“What do you mean?” Winchester asked curtly.

“I sent someone to the Crown to see if any strangers had been asking questions about Lady St. John’s estate, just as you asked me to, Zach. It seems a couple of foreigners had done so just that day.” Frankie gasped and Clarence noticed Winchester place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Jeggins was suspicious and didn’t tell them anything. They took themselves off, probably to Compton village to ask similar questions there.”

“They will find out where I live easily enough,” Frankie said, looking distressed. “I do hope my servants aren’t at risk.”

“I asked Amos to send four of my strongest men to your estate until this business is over, for that very reason,” Winchester said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Frankie’s expression was a combination of gratefulness and annoyance. “I can hardly object to your thoughtfulness, your grace, but I would have liked to know of your intention in advance.”

“It might have proved unnecessary,” Winchester replied. “And then I would have worried you for no reason.”

Frankie opened her mouth, as if to argue the point, then shook her head and closed it again without speaking.

“He can be annoyingly dictatorial,” Annalise told Frankie. “All of my brothers share that tendency, but they mean well.”

The duke spared Annalise a reproving glance but refrained from comment.

“Anyway,” Amos said. “The papers are in a box in the hall. I assume you want to take them with you, Romsey?”

“Yes, if you have no objection, Frankie.”

“None whatsoever.”

“I will only read the personal documents if absolutely necessary.”

“Nothing Gerald committed to writing will be of a personal nature,” Frankie replied.

Winchester looked at her askance, probably as intrigued as Clarence was by her remote expression and cryptic remark. He had long wondered about the circumstances of her marriage to a man so much older than she was. It seemed like a perfectly convivial match to outsiders, but Clarence knew appearances counted for little.

“I’ll have someone carry the box round to your rooms, Romsey,” Winchester said.

“Thank you. In that case, I shall take my leave and return in time for dinner.”

He bid
adieu
to the ladies, and shook each of the gentlemen’s hands. He was unsure what to make of it when Annalise treated him with offhand courtesy, almost as though they were nothing more to one another than acquaintances. And yet he was conscious of her gaze boring into his back as he left the room.

The lady he was now determined to make his wife was something of a mystery. She was far more intelligent than she let on, and was playing some sort of game by pretending she had no intention of going through with the marriage. How could she not, without causing difficulties for the family she so adored? What was it she wanted him to say or do to convince her? She had dropped less than subtle hints the entire time they were in the park, but Clarence was too good a strategist to fall for such an obvious ruse and ask outright what she wanted of him.

He reclaimed his horse and rode briskly home, keen to have at Frankie’s papers. Annalise was testing him in some way, and it was up to Clarence to work out why.

“Where is everyone?” Crista was the only person in the drawing room when Anna walked into it that evening. “Am I early?”

“No, they are all tardy, as usual.” Crista smiled up at Anna and gasped. “Oh, Annalise, you look lovely!”

Anna’s foolish anxiety was partially relieved by Crista’s spontaneous reaction to the sight of her in her new blue changeable silk ball gown, complete with overskirt of silver sarsenet. The tight-fitting bodice was cut daringly low and trimmed with pretty seed pearls. Flemish lace adorned the capped sleeves and hemline. She had taken especial care with her toilette, and changed her mind three times before she was satisfied with Fanny’s efforts with her hair. It was ridiculous to feel nervous, she repeatedly told herself, or to desire so badly that Clarence would actually
want
to marry her become his affections were engaged. His head was so full of stuffy government business that he probably wouldn’t even notice the trouble she had gone to.

“Do you really think so?” Anna chewed her lip. “The neckline is rather lower than I am comfortable with, and—”

“And Lord Romsey will be enraptured. Stop being such a widgeon.” Crista stood up and hugged Anna, careful not to crush her gown. “Being engaged agrees with you. You look as though you have been lit up from within. Lord Romsey is a lucky man. I am so glad you have achieved your heart’s desire.”

Anna wrinkled her nose. “I would be glad, too, if it had been for the right reasons.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Crista frowned. “This sounds intriguing. What have you been up to, apart from getting yourself abducted from society balls? Do tell.”

Grimacing, Annalise did just that.

“Oh, Anna!” Crista laughed aloud. “Only you could land yourself in such a mess.”

“I’m glad you find it amusing,” Anna replied, sniffing.

“Excuse me.” Crista made an effort to control her laughter. “I am not laughing at you precisely, just at the circumstances that landed you where you have always wanted to be, which is engaged to Lord Romsey. Something good has come out of your ordeal.”

“Perhaps so, but I didn’t plan to coerce him into marrying me against his will.”

Crista shook her head. “Lord Romsey did not look like a condemned man to me when you returned from your ride this afternoon. In fact, he looked rather pleased with himself.”

“Hmm, looks can be deceiving.” Anna brightened. “However, I have decided to make him stop being so serious and learn to enjoy himself. He had never attempted it before, which is so very sad. Even so, unless he admits to loving me, I am absolutely determined not to go through with the wedding. I don’t care what society has to say on the matter. I will not be left to stew in his mausoleum of a house while he gallivants around the globe, righting all the wrongs done to the British government.”

Once again, Crista’s lips twitched. “What makes you so sure his house is a mausoleum? You have never set foot inside it.”

“True, but his father sounds like an ogre, his mother died when Clarence was still a child, and I would wager no effort has been put into maintaining the house.”

“Then you will have a lovely time righting that situation. And come to that, why would he leave you in the country? Frankie went everywhere with her husband.”

“Presumably that was because
her
husband loved her and wanted her with him.”

“You don’t know that any more than you can be sure Romsey doesn’t love you.”

“I
do
know. He would say so if he did. It cannot be so very hard to admit such a thing, surely?”

“Perhaps he doesn’t know how. You need to give him a little encouragement, that’s all. But I can understand why you feel the way you do. I would not have married Amos if I was not assured of his complete and absolute devotion, even though I was desperately in love with him.”

“Well, anyone with eyes in their head could see your feelings were reciprocated.”

“Everyone except me.” Crista took Anna’s hand and smiled at her. “And now that situation is reversed, and it is I who must persuade you to open your eyes to Lord Romsey’s feelings for you. Some things transcend mere words. I think your handsome earl will not take much persuading to put aside his serious ways.”

“We did ride out at his suggestions this afternoon, which I took to be a good sign. He does not usually waste his valuable time riding for no reason.”

“That is an encouraging start.”

“He paid me several pretty compliments and was very charming.”

“He is a diplomat. Of course he’s charming, but I have always thought charm comes naturally to Lord Romsey.”

“Possibly.” Anna wrinkled her brow. “But I want his compliments to be spontaneous, from the heart, as opposed to acts of diplomacy.”

Crista smiled. “Rome was not built in a day, my dear.”

“I dropped numerous hints that I did not plan to go through with the marriage, and he didn’t appear to hear them, infuriating man!” She slanted a gaze at Crista. “Why do you suppose that is?”

“He probably doesn’t think you are serious.”

“He ought to be glad I don’t want to hold him to the commitment when his feelings are not engaged.” She tossed her head. “Clarence never intended to marry, you know.”

“Well, you will just have to change his mind about that.” Crista became serious. “If you love him, Anna, it will be worth the effort. Lord Romsey is a complex gentleman. He is entirely sure of himself when negotiating affairs of state, but completely at sea when it comes to untangling his feelings for you.” Crista smiled. “It is up to you to make him realise his life is incomplete without you in it. I don’t pretend to have much experience in these matters, but I do know, no matter how intelligent they are, men are not nearly as clever about affairs of the heart as we ladies naturally are.”

“Because we have nothing better to do with our time than daydream about finding our heart’s desire.”