Page 12 of His Runaway Duchess

“She offered to walk you homebecauseshe wanted a bed for the night, you little fool. She didn’t offer out of the kindness of her heart. Now, come along. We?—”

“He’s not a fool,” the woman interrupted. He was a little surprised to hear a clear, genteel accent come out of her mouth, the sort that was produced by expensive finishing schools. “You shouldn’t talk to your son that way.”

“What business is it of yours how I talk to my son?” Edward shot back. “What business doyouhave in laying your hands on him?”

“Laying my hands on… Oh, you are ridiculous! I came across a sad boy all alone, and then I took him back to his family. He’s a fine, clever boy, and very kind indeed. I can only assume he takes after his mother.”

That hurt. Edward flinched back, rocking on his heels, but regained his composure quickly. Alex said nothing.

“Yes, well, that’s really no concern of yours. Good day.” He turned to go, snatching Alex’s hand, but the woman spoke again.

“You can’t talk to me like that,” she snapped, stomping around to face him. “I’m a lady.”

He stared down at her. She certainly spoke like a lady, but what lady would wander the countryside alone, in such a state? She barely came up to his shoulders, but that did nothing to dampen the absolute ferocity in her gaze as she glared up at him, muddy hands on her muddy hips.

“You don’t look like a lady,” he heard himself say.

She barked out a mirthless laugh. “Oh, that’s how it is, eh? We’re going by looks alone? Well, in that case,youare certainly not a gentleman, judging by the way you have treated me. I don’t think I’ve ever met a ruder man.”

“Well then, you haven’t met many men at all, have you?” he snarled.

He made to step around her and head down the hill, but she neatly side-stepped and blocked his path once again.

“Your poor son was crying his heart out over the wayyouhad treated him,” she said, jabbing a finger towards his chest.

She didn’t touch him, but Edward felt his irritation soar as if she had.

“That is between my son and me. You have no business intervening.”

“That is exactly the kind of attitude that ought to be left in the past. Modern men and women do not accept it. I read all sortsof progressive journals, you know,” the woman added, tilting up her chin.

Edward was suddenly aware of a headache throbbing behind his eyes. It didn’t help that he was suddenly remembering Jane’s collection of tomes on the subjects of morality, philosophy, and other various learned essays that he’d never bothered to read before she died.

He had kept the books and essays, of course. Some of them were quite thought-provoking, in fact.

“If you are a lady, then you had better get yourself home,” Edward said at last, the heat gone out of his voice.

He was just tired now and wanted to get back home and talk things over with Alex. If Alex would talk to him, of course.

“It’s dark, and the rain is only going to get worse. You already look a state, but I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that.”

He stepped around her again, and once again, she blocked his path.

“Look,” Edward said, the anger coming back. “I am going to push you down this hill if you don’t get out of my way.”

Her eyes narrowed. “No, I don’t think you will.”

His shoulders sagged.

It was true. He had no intention of assaulting any woman, even one that was clearly mad, but he’d hoped that the threat alone would work.

“What do you want?” he managed, at last.

“What is your name, Sir?”

He hadn’t expected that.

Edward cleared his throat. “It is notSir. It isYour Grace.”

---