Page 40 of His Arranged Duchess
“Your dear Aunt Emily will excuse you for an hour or two,” Lucien interrupted, giving her a wry smile. “Because I have a plan for us.”
Frances stared up at him, trying to swallow down the rush of anticipation and desire. What was it about this man that he could summon up such feelings? She was entirely helpless in their wake. Did he know of the effect he was having on her? She hoped not.
“And what plan is this?”
Lucien breathed out, glancing through the window. “It’s a fine day. An azure blue sky, as an author might describe it. Birds are singing, a warm breeze is blowing, and golden sunlight beams down from above. I suggest, my dear duchess, that you and I go for a promenade. What do you say?”
Frances answered before she even had time to think over her answer.
“I say yes,” she said at once.
He smiled.
CHAPTER 15
Promenading, as everybody knew, had little to do with fresh air or exercise. None at all, some might say.
The point of promenading in any of the fashionable parks was to beseen. And to see, of course. One might encounter friends, enemies, or a combination of both. One might hear the latest gossip or inadvertently create some.
A new duke, for example, should certainly take his new duchess promenading as soon as humanly possible. Society would want to see her, after all.
Lucien did not much enjoy being looked at, but he supposed that he would have to get used to it. Almost immediately after they had entered the park—Hyde Park, naturally—he was aware of eyes on him. Clusters of ladies and gentlemen moved around in twos and threes, whispering behind hands and fans, eyes lingering as Lucien strode by with Frances on his arm.
Their gazes seemed to rest most critically on Frances, assessing her hair, her dress, her manner, everything.
Did Frances notice their intrusive stares? He hoped not. Still, her gloved hand seemed to tighten on his arm as they walked. He glanced down at her, hoping to see her face. However, she had her head bowed, and he found himself looking only at her silk-covered bonnet.
“You should keep your head up,” he murmured. “A duchess doesn’t walk with her eyes on her feet.”
Frances flinched at that but determinedly lifted her head until her chin was level with the ground.
“Like that?” she murmured.
“Exactly like that. Very well done.”
She shot him a wry, grateful little smile, and Lucien was not sure what to do with the wave of affection that came over him. It was tempered with baser emotions, too, a rather shameful desire to wrench off that blasted bonnet so that he could see her face, pull her tight against him and kiss those soft little lips right here in the middle of Hyde Park.
Oh, wouldn’t that put Society in a flutter?he thought, grinning.A couple of newlyweds engaging in such a passionate display in broad daylight. Hearts would flutter in bosoms, to be sure.
Speaking of bosoms, he found his gaze sliding down to Frances’s, highlighted by a tight blue gown fringed with impeccable lace. There were buttons on the front of the bodice, and he imagined himself undoing them, one by one, until the creamy curve of her breasts was revealed.
Swallowing thickly, Lucien dragged his gaze away from his wife and focused on the road ahead. Thankfully, nobody seemed to be in their path. They could promenade to the end of the Park and back. The previously delightful blue sky had darkened a little, a few clouds scudding across the sun. There would be rain later, Lucien guessed. He hoped they would get back to their carriage before it hit.
All the rain would plaster her dress to her shape. How terrible.
“I think I’d like to order dresses of my own,” Frances said abruptly, taking Lucien a little by surprise.
“Oh?” he remarked, lifting his eyebrows. “Well, of course. Be sure not to skimp on the styles and materials. A duchess must dress well. I thought that my sister’s dresses would not be to your taste.”
“They were very pretty, but the dresses cut in too much around the waist.”
Lucien’s smile faded. “Ah. That would be my father’s influence.”
Frances frowned up at him. “Your father? What business did he have with your sister’s dresses?”
Lucien shook his head. “Papa approved of thin women. I suppose what I really mean to say is that he disapproved of women who enjoyed anything like food and drink. He would always insist on Mary-Jane eating half portions at the dinner table. She was never permitted to take more than a few pieces of fruit at breakfast, and no luncheon at all. He insisted that her dresses be cut tighter around the waist to prevent her from eating too much at parties. Forgive me for eating whathe believedto be too much for a lady at parties.”
“Oh,” Frances said, her voice small. “What a horrid man.”
