Page 32 of Miss Prim and the Duke of Wylde
There were any number of stable lads from the surrounding great houses who loitered along the avenues in the park, hoping to earn a shilling for holding a gentleman’s horse. Drago spotted one he recognized and crooked his finger. The boy came running as Drago halted the horses.
Beaming and pleased to be chosen, the lad saluted. “I’ll take good care of ’em, Your Grace.”
Drago smiled and tossed him the reins, then descended to the gravel and rounded the carriage to hand Meg down.
She accepted the arm he subsequently offered. As they started to stroll down the gentle slope to the Serpentine, she murmured, “He knew you.”
“He knew my horses.” Drago grinned. “He knows the grays belong to some duke. He wouldn’t know my name, and to him and his cronies, my name’s far less of a feather in his cap than being trusted with those horses.”
Meg chuckled and shook her head. “Given my family, I should have guessed that.”
There were quite a few others taking the air in the fashionable precinct. Thankfully, most were of their age or younger, engaged couples strolling, others in larger groups of gentlemen and ladies, and several bevies of younger ladies with maids or footmen trailing.
None of Drago’s acquaintances were likely to be strolling in the park of a Sunday afternoon, but he wasn’t surprised when some groups, rather less wary of his notoriety and more willing to be openly curious than their elders, approached and paused to exchange greetings with Meg and, therefore, him.
He was curious to see how such interactions would play out—how difficult they might prove—but it rapidly became apparent that Meg was more than up to the challenge. She handled the introductions and managed the resulting short conversations with a practiced ease that, for all his experience, he lacked.
He listened and—rather humbly—learned from one he quickly recognized as a master. She hadn’t wasted her nine Seasons. More, judging by some of her comments and artful questions, she was sharply observant, noticing when others were happy or troubled, and she had at the tips of her mental fingers the family connections of those they met.
They finally caught up with Alison and Joshua, who were strolling arm in arm with Alison’s maid trailing a few paces behind.
“Your Grace! Miss Cynster!” Alison’s face lit. “How lovely to meet you here.” She looked brightly between them. “You must be so excited to be able to announce your engagement just as the Season begins.”
Meg smiled. “Indeed.” She shifted her gaze to Joshua. “And what of the pair of you?”
Joshua placed his hand over Alison’s where it rested on his sleeve. “We’ve spoken with Lord and Lady Melwin and made our wishes known. Both have indicated a willingness to accept my suit, so…” Joshua blew out a breath and grinned as if he couldn’t quite believe his luck. “We hope to announce our engagement very soon.”
“That’s wonderful!” Meg beamed at the pair.
Also smiling, Drago added his congratulations.
Glowing, Alison confided, “Mama and Papa wanted to break the news to my brother Hubert in person first, before we make any formal announcement.”
“And Hubert had already returned to London.” Joshua lightly grimaced and shared with Alison a look brimming with hopeful happiness. “But with any luck, another day or two, and we’ll be able to make our betrothal official.”
Sincerely happy for the pair, Drago caught Joshua’s eyes. “You said you’d recently been made a partner in a legal practice.”
Joshua nodded. “Huntley and Cowper. We specialize in estate matters—property, agistments, that sort of thing.”
“Based in town?” Drago asked.
“Yes, in Grey’s Inn. That said, there’s talk of opening an office in Kent, most likely in Tunbridge Wells. There’s a lot of estates down that way, and quite a few of our current clients live within reach of the town.” Joshua glanced at Alison. “If our plans for the Tunbridge Wells office go ahead, it’s likely I’ll be placed in charge. Given that my parents live in Tenterden and Alison will feel happier being within reach of her parents at Melwin Place, that would be a helpful development all around.”
Drago nodded. “That would be a good result. Do you enjoy the work?”
As Joshua enthusiastically replied and the talk veered to discussion of acres, fields, and fences, Alison rolled her eyes and said to Meg, “I love that color on you. I haven’t seen much of the fashions this year, but with an engagement in the offing, I’m hoping to spend more time in Bruton Street, discovering the latest modistes.”
“There’s several I can recommend.” Meg would have preferred to listen to Drago and Joshua’s discussion—Drago’s questions more than Joshua’s answers. She had to wonder what was in Drago’s mind. But she dutifully responded to Alison’s eager questions; although Alison had visited town before, she hadn’t spent even a tithe of the time Meg had in the capital.
Eventually, Alison ran out of questions, and the gentlemen wound up their exchange.
“Oh, my goodness!” Alison peered at a small watch pinned to her lapel. “Look at the time!” She glanced at Joshua. “We need to head back.”
He nodded and, reclaiming her hand, wound her arm in his. He smiled at Drago and Meg. “Miss Cynster. Your Grace.”
His expression relaxed, Drago smiled. “Until next we meet.” He dipped his head to Alison. “Miss Melwin.”
They parted, and Meg and Drago walked toward his curricle, where the stable lad was watching over the horses and carriage as if defending a castle.
