The Duke’s coachman sat with impassive expression as the two carriages remained blocking the carriageway. Other drivers began complaining loudly.
A constable strode over to see what the commotion was about.
‘Move along,’ he said.
The driver looked at him down his nose. ‘When the Duke is ready to move on, he will do so.’
The policeman backed away.
Oh, goodness.
‘Perhaps if you moved a fraction to the side...’ She began to suggest.
The driver shot her a scathing look and she subsided into silence.
A good five minutes passed and Pamela felt her face getting hotter by the minute.
One passer-by even reached for the bridle of the Duke’s lead horse, but the same look from the coachman that had defeated the police officer sent the fellow scurrying away.
Finally, the carriage door opened and Dart jumped down.
In a trice both carriages were moving and the traffic began to flow.
‘Wasn’t that a bit rude?’ she said as Damian guided his horse into the street.
‘When you are the Duke of Camargue, one of the wealthiest men in the world, no one ever calls you rude.’
‘Well, I do,’ she said.
Damian laughed. ‘You would. The Duke wants to buy my land that adjoins his property. He wasn’t exactly pleased when I didn’t jump at his offer.’
‘Why didn’t you?’
‘He says he will put the crofters off the land to run more sheep. I am not keen on the idea. Those people have lived on that land for centuries. In truth, the land is more theirs than mine.’
He cared. About people he had likely never met. Her heart seemed to stop beating. A painful awareness swept over her. It wasn’t just that she cared for him, she had fallen in love. If they hadn’t been in so public a place, she might have blurted it out without thinking.
They had both made it very clear there were no strings attached. He might think she was trying to hold on to him. Or trying to get him to admit to something he really did not feel. It would spoil the rest of their time together, when she only wanted him to have good memories.
He was leaving for the New World. She had her own plans. And he had never shown any sign of feeling anything but mere fondness. How could he? After all, she was a fallen woman.
‘Besides, he isn’t offering nearly enough,’ Dart said.
She didn’t believe him. His words were merely a front. She would not let him make her think he cared only about money.
Chapter Thirteen
The next day, when Damien entered the breakfast room after his early morning ride, he was surprised to find Pamela there ahead of him looking delicious in a morning gown of dark rose.
‘Good morning, my dear.’ He kissed her cheek.
She turned a beautiful shade of pink. ‘Good morning, Damian.’
‘You look ravishing, I must say. Good enough to eat. Where are you off to?’
She chuckled. ‘I am going to Covent Garden this morning to see about the floral decoration for the ball.’
The hairs on the back of his neck rose. ‘Send for the nursery man to come to you. Covent Garden is no place for a lady.’