Page 49 of Tempted By an Unconventional Lady
Don’t be ridiculous.
“Yes. I was wondering if you’d like to go riding with me tomorrow. I would have written a note, but that feels so impersonal.”
Charlotte wanted to leap around, to cry out in delight, but she held herself as still as she could, refusing to give into the emotion.
“I’m afraid my niece doesn’t like horse riding,” Aunt Lydia said.
“That’s not true at all,” Charlotte said, her head snapping around to her aunt, her brow furrowed in confusion. “I adore horse riding, and you know it.”
From the clench of her aunt’s jaw, Charlotte knew she would be in trouble for her impertinence later, but she desperately didn’t want to lose this chance to ride with His Grace.
A beast between my thighs…
“And who shall chaperone you, Charlotte?” Aunt Lydia demanded, a fire from her eyes. “You know full well that my old knees cannot take horse riding these days.”
“Annie will come,” she retorted. “Won’t you Annie?”
She looked pleadingly at the maid, whose eyes were as wide as the saucers she carried. Annie looked to Aunt Lydia then back to Charlotte, her jaw bobbing up and down as she tried to think what to say.
“I remember you telling me that your father was the groom on the estate where you grew up. I have no doubt you can ride. You’ll come, won’t you?”
“Er… yes, of course, my lady. Whatever it is you require.”
The poor maid ducked her head and scurried out of the room, no doubt fearful of whatever Aunt Lydia would have to say on the matter. Charlotte felt a touch of guilt, but it was worth it, if only to spend another afternoon with Alexander.
When Aunt Lydia spoke again, it was with a frown. “I am not convinced that—”
“That’s sorted then,” the duke interrupted, throwing Charlotte a wink that made her giddy. “You are most kind for sorting that, Lady Fairchild. And I shall send my cook over with a salve for knee pain. She is a genius when it comes to the old remedies.”
There was no way Aunt Lydia could refuse now, not without looking terribly impolite—if not worse. She forced a smile, though it was weak. “That’s most kind, Your Grace, but Ihave all the salves I need. I do hope you enjoy your trip out with young Charlotte tomorrow.”
As soon as the duke had left, Charlotte did as Annie had and scurried from the room to her bedchamber—in part because she did not want to face her aunt, and in part so that she could daydream in peace.
***
Charlotte purposely mounted her horse side-saddle the following day, as she knew a lady should. She felt the duke’s eyes boring into her, watching her carefully. Was that a note of disappointment she detected in him? Had he actually expected her to mount as a man would?
No.Charlotte shook her head. He had never seen her ride, so he had no reason to think she would ever do so differently. It was all in her imagination, and yet she somehow knew that he wouldn’t be disappointed if she did.
In fact, he might even like it.
“It is a beautiful day for a ride, Your Grace,” she said, raising her face to the warm sun as she picked up the reins.
“It is indeed,” he said, “but not nearly as beautiful as seeing a lady sat upon a horse.”
She blinked at him, not quite sure how to take his words. He was so rarely kind in such a way. He was not a man to offer compliments but to tease her. And she had so rarely—if ever—been calledbeautiful. She was far from the conventional beauties of theton. Not knowing quite how to react, she fell back on her usual habit, and laughed.
“Yes, I suppose Annie does look rather nice on a horse.”
The duke rolled his eyes then kicked his horse and began slowly meandering through the park. Charlotte followed close behind though to her relief, the maid stayed a respectable distance behind. Charlotte searched for something intelligent to say, something witty.
What would Chelsea say?
“The flowers look beautiful today,” she ventured, though she cringed at how pathetic she sounded. The duke merely glanced over his shoulder at her, then continued forward, and she kicked herself. “And the park is unusually quiet,” she tried again.
The duke slowed his horse and half-turned so he could look at her, the horse’s shoes clacking against the gravel path.
“I must admit, I had thought we had moved past the banalities of polite and boring small talk, my lady.”
