Page 551 of From Rakes to Riches

She wouldn’t smell like perfection, and yet…

What he would give to inhale her.

Across the cobbles, the duchess registered his arrival—and smiled.

Her smile caused a small alarm bell to clang inside him.

The duchess smiled as if she had to remind herself to smile.

And the smile he returned might not have been all that different.

“What a—” His mouth hung up on the next word.

Pleasant.That was the word that was supposed to follow.

Her smile faltered for a fraught instant, and he continued. “What apleasantsurprise, Your Grace.”

A flash of relief passed behind her eyes. The vulnerable expression was replaced by aristocratic hauteur so quickly he could almost convince himself he’d imagined it. “Your Grace,” she said on a curtsy that ceded none of her ground as his equal.

He couldn’t very well ask what this woman he’d only met once on a single formal occasion years ago and with whom he’d exchanged a few letters was doing by arriving unannounced on his doorstep.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t wondering it.

What the blazes was the Duchess of Acaster doing at Somerton, anyway?

A small voice couldn’t help reminding him that only a week ago he might’ve been a little less skeptical and a lot more welcoming.

But that wasbefore.

Before Gemma.

He gave himself a mental shake. He couldn’t think about Gemma.

“A fine day for traveling,” he said, for lack of anything else to say that met the standards of courtesy.

“Please, call me Celia,” she said with a gracious smile.

He nodded.

And waited.

She gave her throat a little, feminine clearing. “With the races at Newmarket just around the corner, we’ve begun walking Light Skirt, the filly I’m entering in the One Thousand Guineas.”

Racehorses weren’t ridden to racecourses, but walked, so as to save their strength and energy for race day.

“And with all our back and forth about Silky Sadie,” she continued, “I had a whim to bring her along and show her to you in person.” She gave a little shrug and breathy laugh that would charm most of London. “So, here we are.”

Rake’s head cocked. “Surely, there are more direct routes from Ashcote Hall to Newmarket.”

Another little laugh escaped her. He detected nerves in this laugh. Further, she looked slightly nonplussed. She wasn’t accustomed to men offering up much resistance to anything that came out of her mouth.

For some reason, Rake found he couldn’t leave the matter be. “It would’ve taken you a good four?—”

“Five.”

“Fivedays to walk her here from Ashcote Hall.”

Again, the duchess’s charming little smile appeared.

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