Page 11 of The Duke's Inconvenient Bride
“My carriage is parked out front,” he said.
“Wonderful,” Violet said. They left the room together.
Violet fell into step with Vaughan.
“Do you enjoy walking?” he asked, hoping to establish some common ground.
“Only in parks,” Violet replied. “I confess, I am not fond of the outdoors.”
Vaughan’s mouth twitched, and he forced himself not to grimace. The outdoors wasn’t for everyone. It didn’t matter if he preferred to ride his horse across wide open spaces to dancing in a Mayfair ballroom. After all, he didn’t intend to share a life with his wife.
The butler opened the main door and held it while they exited. As he’d hoped, his carriage was parked a short distance away, his coachman still in place. When he saw Vaughan, he urged the horses into motion and stopped in front of them.
“Oh, what a lovely carriage,” Violet exclaimed.
“Thank you.” Vaughan didn’t think it was much different from any other carriage, but if Violet liked it, so much the better.
The footman opened the sleek back door, and Vaughan assisted Violet into the carriage. Emma stepped up behind her, and something fizzed through him as she laid her gloved hand on his to steady herself as she followed her sister.
Vaughan swallowed and told himself not to be silly. The touch had been feather soft. It was ridiculous for it to affect him so.
Nevertheless, he’d have to steer clear of Lady Emma.
He climbed inside and sat stiffly on one of the padded leather seats while the footman closed the door and took up his positionon the rear of the carriage. Lady Carlisle waved from where she stood outside the house, and her daughters waved back.
The drive to Hyde Park was mercifully brief, but he and Violet quickly exhausted their supply of conversation about the weather and current events—although that wasn’t saying much, since her grasp of current events was based around who was courting whom rather than politics or economics, the topics he cared for.
The carriage pulled up outside one of the park’s entrances, and they disembarked. Vaughan offered Violet his arm, and dimples popped up in her cheeks as she took it. He escorted her to the path into the park, which was already busy.
Several courting couples strolled arm in arm near the stream, while clusters of women stood about, talking. Birds sang in the trees, and the air was fresher here than in the more urban parts of the city. Vaughan inhaled deeply, a dull ache in his chest. He rubbed it, wishing he could be in the country, with no one around for miles.
“Do you enjoy games, Your Grace?” Violet asked as they wandered along the path. People watched them, and she seemed to bask in the attention, lighting up and holding her shoulders straighter.
Meanwhile, Vaughan wanted to slink off somewhere private so none of them could see him. Unfortunately, he wasn’t in the mood for a scandal today. Instead, he kept pace with her, trying not to notice her sister, who followed a few yards behind. Close enough to hear their conversation, but not close enough to be a part of it.
“What sort of games?” he asked.
An uncomfortable lump formed in the back of his throat. Poor Lady Emma. Forced to accompany them and to watch her sister become the toast of London. Vaughan could be wrong, but he doubted any of those callers this morning had been forEmma.They’d all been far too attentive to Violet, the more conventionally attractive of the two.
“How about pall-mall or lawn bowls?” Violet replied.
“Both are enjoyable,” he said.
“Do you have horses?” she asked.
“I do.” The tightness in his chest eased. Finally, something he could talk about. “My personal horse, Thunder, is a gorgeous black gelding.”
“Is he in London?” she asked, her forehead smoothing. Perhaps she was as relieved to find a topic of conversation as he was.
“No, he stayed in Norfolk. The groom is taking care of him while I’m gone.”
“Oh.”
“I have other horses,” he said, knowing this was something he could happily talk about for hours. He started giving her a summation, but after a few moments, he realized her eyes had glazed over, and she was nodding absently but not really paying attention.
Damn it.
He’d bored her.
