Page 56 of Unraveled By the Duke
“I believe I have earned reciprocation. I have regaled you with an absurd adventure of mine. As a rake and a wastrel, you must have many adventures to relate. Tell me. A story for a story,” Celia demanded.
Alexander sobered up.
What to say? It should be easy enough to spin a yarn. She will not know that it is not true. Except, she is very sharp. She might deduce that I am not the rake my carefully nurtured reputation suggests.
“Such stories are not something to be proud of,” he said, eventually.
“I do not ask for scandal or titillation, merely entertainment.”
“I have no tales of that nature.”
He glanced at her and saw a frown of contemplation.
She knows I know a man who can manage reputations within the ton. Will she deduce that such a man might have been used to create a false reputation for me? It is a small step from such a deduction to discovering the truth I am trying to conceal.
He sighed. “We will be there shortly. But, since you have asked for a tale, I will tell you of a Frost Fair I attended with my good friend Maxwell Turney, the Duke of Larcher. He wished to romance a young lady, but she would not promenade with him unless her friend was accommodated. I was persuaded to entertain her friend. We walked among the fair and decided to try our hand at ice skating when we were assaulted by a group of young ruffians with snowballs.”
“Oh my!” Celia said, smiling.
“Ambushed, by God. Half a dozen of them, at least. Before we knew what was happening, Maxwell’s hat was off, and the young ladies were sporting three or four direct hits each. They wished to leave, but Maxwell and I felt we could not quit the field to such knavery. We resolved to fight, thinking ourselves equal to the task of a half dozen with the tallest no more than four feet.”
Celia laughed aloud. “They were children? I thought you meant a group of local youths.”
“No, they were children, and honor demanded that we, as gentlemen, teach them a lesson. But the rogues had the advantage of practice and, as we learned to ourdismay, reinforcements. We were soon surrounded and heavily outnumbered. That’s when I had the idea of bribing our way out. Maxwell looked at me and said, ‘Larchers do not retreat or surrender. I will fight on till the end.’ Then, he charged. Took a snowball to the face, lost his footing, and ended up on his back. I leaped to his defense and hurtled past, my shoes not proper for traction on the ice. I got clouted by a tree branch and ended up face down in a snow drift. Minus my pocket watch by the time I extricated myself.”
He grinned at the memory and Celia’s laughter. There were tears of mirth in her eyes.
“The very idea of such a dignified man losing control because of a pack of feral children. Oh my, but that has tickled me!” Celia tittered.
Alexander’s smile widened, and then a chortle shook his shoulders.
By the time the carriage drew to a stop outside the Theatre Royal, they were both laughing uncontrollably, one person’s mirth feeding the other’s. Alexander disembarked first and offered his hand to Celia. Passersby and other theater patrons looked at the smiling couple.
Some of them possibly know our names just by looking at us. Well, this has done our cause some good.
He offered his arm as would be expected from a husband escorting his wife to the theater. Celia took it, resting her handlightly on his forearm. That contact was enough to set his pulse racing.
That, in turn, sobered him. It reminded him of how intimate they had been, how close they had become, even if only physically. He considered where such things could lead.
That is not a path I wish to tread. My father was destroyed by the death of my mother. Violet was devastated by the death of my father. I will not risk such vulnerability. Hang it all, I am the master of my desires. She is not so beautiful that I cannot control myself.
“You have become serious again. How mercurial you are,” Celia commented.
“How mocking you can be,” Alexander said with deliberate coolness.
“Ah, so you feel emasculated because you related an anecdote about two grown men playing with children? Perhaps you should have related a story of one of your victories at Loo. What did the two young ladies make of your battle?”
“I do not know. By the time we had extricated ourselves from the snow, they had departed,” Alexander admitted.
They were walking through the grand lobby of the theater, nodding to those whose eyes they caught and exchanging pleasantries. Celia took out her fan and promptly snapped itopen. Behind the fluttering, he could see her rebellious mouth twitching.
“I am beginning to regret being so open,” he grumbled.
“Not at all,” Celia said through giggles, “General.”
Alexander shot her a look, feeling his own laughter threatening to break through his defenses. Her laughter was so melodic, so free and easy. It was infectious.
Nothing about Celia seemed forced or put on for effect. Everything was natural.
