Page 16 of The Wrong Duke

“Hard to argue with that,” Lord Malnor chuckled.

“Indeed,” His Grace said simply.

It was a shame that His Grace was so set to ruining the morning because the day was a lovely one, perfect for a stroll through the park. Summer was in full swing, and thetonwas out to enjoy it; dozens, if not scores of lords and ladies wandered along the path, strolled across the grass, and sat under trees and in the shade where they settled in for the day ahead. Brightly colored birds fluttered through the treetops. Butterflies congregated over flowerbeds. It was a day that one could get lost in... although she wished that His Grace would take that advice and find himself lost.

The three continued in their walk, following the stone-laid path as it wound its way slowly through the park. All about them were the same guests from the previous night, paired off and enjoying one another’s company, none paying Miss Baker, Lord Malnor, or His Grace any attention which should have made the walk a perfect one for finishing what she was yet to start.

She still could not believe how persistent His Grace was, made all the worse by the faux-charm that he embodied so effortlessly. He was a strikingly good-looking man, she decided as she spared him a quick glance. Tall. Strong. Sharp features and hard lines. And those eyes... she had thought about them more than once, looked at them more than that, and hated how perfect they were.

And that wasn’t to say that Lord Malnor was bad to look at either. Just as tall as His Grace but a little skinnier, a little longer in the face. More boyish, too, but still handsome. Times were that he would have made a perfect match, but the more she thought of it, the less likely Amelia found the possibility of winning him over. She needed to get him alone, somehow.

A glance over her shoulder, and she caught her father watching them. His glare was fixed on her with the odd glance at His Grace’s back, but he widened his eyes and mouthed something that she couldn’t understand, even if she knew what he was trying to say.

In that moment, Amelia had an idea. Not one she was proud of. Not one that she particularly wanted to do. But with her father watching her, with His Grace refusing to yield, it was all that was left. A most dishonest action, but she was out of options.

“Oh!” Amelia yelped suddenly, throwing herself to the side and wrapping her arms around Lord Malnor.

“Miss Baker!” Lord Malnor lifted her. “What —”

“My ankle.” She let him take her weight entirely, hanging from the Lord’s arms like a piece of wet laundry. “I think I’ve twisted it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Let me just...” She feigned trying to stand up, letting her legs fall out from her again. “Owe! Yes, definitely twisted.”

“Oh no.” Lord Malnor hung onto her, his strong arms holding her up effortlessly. It might have been romantic; it might have conjured feelings inside of her that she was yet to feel toward the Lord she was set to seduce. Only... there was nothing. “Can you make it back to the entrance?”

“I’m not sure...”

“Here, let me.” Before she or Lord Malnor could do anything, His Grace was behind her, lifting her up as if she weighed nothing, cradling her in his arms like she was a newborn babe. “David, fetch a horse, will you? I’ll keep an eye on her.”

Lord Malnor blinked. “Ah... what do you —”

“Quickly, man!” he barked. “I’ll set her down by a tree in the shade and keep an eye on her. She can’t possibly walk all the way back like this, and while I could likely carry her, I think a horse is more appropriate. Don’t you?”

Lord Malnor hesitated... tilted his head as he took in the scene... smiled to himself as if realizing something and then nodded his understanding. “You’ll be all right until I come back?”

Amelia opened her mouth to protest. “It really isn’t —”

“We will be fine,” His Grace spoke over her. “Go! Be quick about it.”

It happened faster than Amelia could imagine. Lord Malnor nodded his head in understanding, spun on his heel, and hurried back down the path. On the way, he caught her father by the arm, exchanged a few quick words, and then pulled him along as if it would take two of them to gather a horse. And all the while, His Grace carried her, already off the path and hurrying across the grass toward a tall oak tree that sat behind some hedges.

“You can put me down now,” Amelia said bitterly as he carried her.

“Nonsense,” he said seriously. “Your ankle, Miss I’d hate for you to damage it further.”

She was about to snap at him, to tell him that her ankle was fine and he was acting a fool, but then she realized that this is what His Grace wanted — for her to reveal her trickery so that he would be vindicated in his accusations. So, rather than that, she said, “I hope Lord Malnor will be back soon. I miss him already.”

It didn’t escape her notice how effortlessly His Grace carried her. His powerful arms lifted her as if she weighed nothing, his strong chest pressed against her side, his breathing as steady as his heartbeat. She felt safe in his arms, even if she didn’t mean to. A sense of security that wasn’t there when Lord Malnor had held her. And while she worried for a moment what her father might say if he was to see them together... she also wished that he would. Something told her that His Grace would more than hold his own against the bully that was Lord Lindstone.

But she pushed those thoughts away, determined not to think of His Grace like that. Not even for a moment!

“This will do,” His Grace said as they reached the oak tree. He stepped around its girth so that they were blocked from sight, and there, he was gentle about kneeling as he lay her down on the grass in the shade. “I hope your ankle is feeling all right.”

She eyed him with an unamused expression. “It’s fine.”

“A stroke of bad luck,” he continued, smirking to himself, “that you twisted your ankle. Before that, I thought the walk was going rather well.”

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