Page 7 of Crash Landing
He gave her hand a warning squeeze. “We had hoped to keep the betrothal quiet until notifying our families, but it seems we are now caught and our secret has slipped out.”
Frampton arched an eyebrow. “She is your betrothed?”
Florence found herself nodding. “A love match. Quite the whirlwind romance. But when it is right, you just know. He is completely devoted to me. Isn’t he divine?”
Aubrey gave her hand another squeeze, silently warning her not to overdo it.
“Mutual, my love. You are mine now.All mine.” Which Florence hoped was his way of conveying to those ruffians that he would slit their throats from ear to ear if they laid a hand on her.
Frampton held up a hand and drew back a step. “Who am I to interfere with the course of true love? Well, I’ll trouble you no further.But do me a favor, Weymouth. Let me know if you notice anyone lurking on your property. I think someone is spying on me, and I do not like it one bit. In fact, if I catch the fellow, he will not walk off your property alive.”
“That is some threat,” Aubrey said, arching an eyebrow. “Just do me a favor and kill him on your property if you do catch him. I would prefer that my good name not be dragged into your disputes.”
“Of course. In turn, keep your eyes and ears open.”
“All right, although I may be a bit distracted.” He winked at Florence and cast her a worshipful smile for good measure.
She wanted to tellhimnot to overdo it, but left the warning for later, since she did not want to say or do anything that might give them away.
“But on a more serious note, Frampton,” he said, now frowning, “Lady Florence and I do enjoy bird watching. This mutual interest is what first brought us together.”
Florence tipped her chin up proudly. “I am chairwoman of the Ladies’ Ornithological Society in Lower Bramble.”
Aubrey cleared his throat. “Keep this in mind on the chance you see us walking about with our notebooks and binoculars. But if you are concerned at all, is there anywhere on our adjoining properties that you prefer us not to tread? This matter is obviously of importance to you, and I want to respect your wishes.”
Frampton appeared pleased. “Oh, it isn’t on the grounds so much. But I sensed this trespasser was peering into my house.”
“Into your house! That is outrageous. No wonder you are incensed,” Aubrey remarked, sounding sincerely appalled—which he probably was, and she would catch a stern lecture for it later.
“Quite so. This invasion of my family’s privacy is a serious offense.”
“Rest assured, I will alert my staff and have them notify me the moment they spot any strangers walking around here.”
With that said, Frampton and his cohorts climbed the stairs and returned to their neighboring property.
Florence dared not breathe until they were out of sight. “Betrothed? Aubrey, have you lost your marbles?”
“The title is Weymouth now,” he reminded her. “But all right, call me Aubrey if you prefer, since this is what everyone has called me for most of my life. Or you could call me Trajan, since it is my given name. Better yet, call memy dearestormy heart’s delight.”
“That is not funny. Now everyone is going to think we are getting married.”
“Well, it will upend that betting book taken out on me at White’s.”
Florence pursed her lips and frowned. “A betting book? Why are they betting on you?”
“You really are socially unaware, aren’t you? Have you not been reading the London gossip rags? They are placing wagers on me because I am now a duke. Unmarried. Supposedly rakish. And I have a touch of silver at the temples.”
“What? Does this qualify you as a Silver Duke?”
“Apparently so. This is what they are calling me now. You gave me those silver hairs last year,” he teased. “I hadn’t a single one until I met you.”
“I do have that effect on people,” she said with a gentle smile. “But you are barely in your thirties. Aren’t you a little young to be considered a Silver Duke?”
He shrugged. “I thought so, but that betting book was opened on me anyway. They did the same to the Duke of Durham last year, as you well know, and he was nowhere near forty years old either. It is shocking how they have lowered their standards. Seems any unmarried duke with a touch of silver in his hair now qualifies.”
“Yours is hardly noticeable.” She lightly touched his temples, running a gentle hand through his hair. “I suppose it is because the silver is so easily hidden among your golden strands.”
He shrugged again. “Doesn’t matter. Even one graying strand is enough to send thetoninto a frenzy.”
