Page 60 of Unraveled By the Duke
A piece of paper was skipping along the pavement towards them, plucked from a bundle left outside a printer’s shop. It moved in the breeze, then lay still, sporadically picking itself up to resume its brief dance.
“I have never experienced the country. Not as a girl. My mother’s sister lives in Essex. I stayed with them for a few monthsrecently…” she trailed off, not wanting to delve into the subject with Alexander.
How much does he know?
It was obvious that he knew about the events at the Larchers’ ball. Those events could hardly have been missed.
But does he know I was sent into the country for a few months after being caught sneaking out?
It did not matter if he did know. There was nothing scandalous about that. Merely an over-protective father seeking to remove his daughter from temptation.
“You know how to ride, though,” Alexander said.
Celia shook her head.
“Then you haven’t experienced one of the greatest freedoms. The freedom to ride wherever you choose, unbound by roads or rules or the demands of Society. Just you and the horse. I live for those moments when I can get out of the city and into the country.”
Celia stopped, but Alexander walked on a few paces.
She was amazed. This was not a revelation she had expected, not a facet of his character she had anticipated. This was theinfamous rake who had bankrupted his family and needed to marry just to ensure that his sister could have her debut?
The paper brushed her skirt, and she absently bent to pick it up, seeing that it had print on it. The words that revealed themselves as she unfolded it drove all other thoughts out of her mind.
Scandal for the Earl of Scovell. The Frid family in disgrace because of wayward daughterwas printed in large letters across the top.
She hastily refolded it and stuffed it into the sleeve of her dress just as Alexander turned to her.
“Is there something wrong?” he asked.
“Just surprised. You are something of an onion, a man of layers. Rake and country squire?”
Alexander scowled, turning away. “I talk too much when influenced by drink. One too many of that ale they were drinking.”
Celia wanted desperately to read the printed sheet. They were walking past the pile outside the printer’s shop from which the sheet she caught had escaped. Alexander did not glance at the pile that was bound by a string. Had he done so, he would have certainly caught the Frid name staring at him in stark black ink.
A story about me? Or Aurelia?
“I would rather you talked more,” Celia said hurriedly. “Does that mean I must ply you with drink?”
“No, I would rather not talk.”
Her sudden worry over the scandal sheet and what Alexander might do if he discovered it soured the enjoyment she had felt from the evening.
Enjoyment that he shared despite his sudden coldness. He shares something about himself and then resents it, even seems to blame me.
She held her forearm still without making it obvious so the cheap paper would not rustle.
“There is a cab,” Alexander said, spying a vehicle in the distance.
He whistled, raising his hand and clicking his fingers.
Celia heard the jingle of a harness and the steady clip-clop of hooves as the carriage approached. She felt a surge of relief. She wanted to be back at Finsbury House urgently now so that she could read the scandal sheet and understand what was being said.
I just hope I can keep it from Alexander. Not to mention Mama and Papa.
Alexander stood on the pavement, awaiting the approach of the carriage. Celia stood beside him and tucked her hands in the crook of his arm. He looked down at her for a moment.
“I find that I did enjoy the diversion of your common dock folk better than the theater,” he admitted.
