Page 13 of The Duke of Desire
Chapter Three
Morning fog had burned off to reveal bright sunlight, but now, as the intrepid guests embarked on their walk up Wendover Hill, the clouds began to gather once more. The air was cool, and a light breeze rustled the ribbons of Ivy’s bonnet tied beneath her chin.
Miss Forth-Hodges tipped her head up to the sky. “Do you think it will rain?”
“Perhaps, but it should be light. Those clouds aren’t particularly threatening.”
A group of maybe a dozen guests had set out from Greensward, the Wendover estate. Ivy had taken stock and was simultaneously disappointed and thrilled that Clare was participating. He was near the front of the pack, and Ivy was having difficulty not watching his athletic frame as they approached the hillside.
She couldn’t stop thinking of the note he’d sent her last night. She’d read it so many times that she’d committed it to memory.
Dear Miss Breckenridge,
I sincerely pray you will accept my most humble apology for affronting you. I never meant to cause you any upset, and it grieves me to know that I pushed you to a place that brought you distress. I have a tendency to challenge people, for better or for worse, and sometimes I overstep. I endeavor to take these instances as an opportunity to better myself.
“People seldom improve when they have no other model but themselves to copy.”
Thank you for your gift of illumination. I do hope you enjoy the house party.
Yours,
Clare
It was such a beautifully written note, and the inclusion of the quote from Goldsmith had made her smile. Yes, smile. He’d done what she’d tried very hard not to allow—he’d charmed her.
Miss Forth-Hodges stumbled next to Ivy. Reaching out, Ivy clasped her elbow. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” Her cheeks flushed pink. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
Ivy glanced up ahead and saw that Viscount Townsend was several yards in front of them. She returned her attention to Miss Forth-Hodges and noticed she was trying to watch him as covertly as possible.
“Has Lord Townsend caught your eye?” Ivy asked softly.
Miss Forth-Hodges nodded. “We danced last night. He’s the most charming man I’ve ever met.” She sounded breathless, and her gaze had taken on a dreamlike sheen.
“Are your parents in favor?”
“I think so. Mama was hoping for an earl or a marquess or even a duke.” She looked over at Ivy. “She even suggested Clare last night. Can you imagine?”
Actually, Ivy could. Not because it would ever happen—for whatever reason, he didn’t seem to be interested in marriage—but because he was an extraordinary specimen. If one had to choose a husband, she could definitely imagine choosing him.
Provided she could overlook the constant affairs.
Which she couldn’t. Shewouldn’t.
What did it matter anyway? Ivy was never going to marry Clare. Or anyone else.
“Why ever would your mother think Clare would make a good husband?” Ivy asked.
“I’m confident it has something to do with the word ‘duke’ and very little else.”
“Well, if titles matter to her, viscount is very respectable.” Ivy didn’t know much about Townsend. He hadn’t distinguished himself enough to be labeled an Untouchable. Because of that, Ivy concluded he’d be a decent match. “You could do far worse.”
“Yes, I don’t think I’d care to be married to someone called the Duke of Desire.” Miss Forth-Hodges giggled. “Whoever came up with that name is a genius.”
Ivy coughed. She normally wouldn’t have responded to that, but she and Miss Forth-Hodges were friends, weren’t they? “You may not believe this, but I’m going to take credit for that.” She winced, immediately wishing she hadn’t said it. “Never mind.”
Miss Forth-Hodges blinked at her. “Truly? I won’t tell anyone, I promise.” She laughed again. “How delightful.”
