Page 57 of The Duke of Ice
Nick didn’t walk her inside but withdrew her arm, just as he’d done eight years ago. “I should take my leave,” he said. “Thank you for the promenade. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.” After executing a perfect bow, he left.
Violet stared after him, her earlier banished questions burning her tongue. Ah well, tomorrow she would ask them. Tomorrow, she would ensure they lived in the present. For as much as she loved reliving their idyllic past, she knew how that ended.
And she refused to let history repeat.
Chapter 12
The musicfrom the gallery provided a lively backdrop to the hum of conversation filling the Pump Room. Nick hadn’t been here in eight years. His uncle had bought him a commission the fall after he’d met Violet, and away to war he’d gone, joining his brother in the company of Wellington’s newly formed 4thInfantry Division. He quickly shoved those nearly three years from his mind.
Instead, he focused on yesterday, on Violet. His plan had been executed as perfectly as he could’ve expected. A part of him had feared she would turn away from him, but she hadn’t. No, she’d engaged in his make-believe, and they’d spent a thoroughly delightful afternoon.
He stood near the windows and watched the women promenade while others sat and drank the waters. His gaze strayed to the door often in anticipation of Violet’s arrival.
And there she was.
She wore a fetching walking dress with a light blue spencer and cunning bonnet that perfectly framed her face. As lovely as she looked, he would strip everything away until she was bare. That, he realized, was how he liked her best. And since he hadn’t been able to accomplish that feat at the house party, he was impatient to do so. Assuming she was even interested in rekindling their affair.
She scanned the room until she found him, her features lighting up. He picked his way along the length of the room as she moved inside.
“Good afternoon, Lady Pendleton.” He took her hand and bowed.
She dipped a curtsey and murmured, “I’m Lady Pendleton today?”
He didn’t answer but gave her a sly grin. “Shall we take the water or promenade? Or both?”
“Both, I think.”
He curled her hand around his forearm and led her toward the opposite end of the room.
“Duke,” she started, drawing him to glance in her direction. The word sounded so strange coming from her. He’d had difficulty adjusting to his title, and this took him back to that time. “I am surprised to see you in Bath.”
“I imagine so. It seemed after our last meeting that there was perhaps…more to say.” Or do.
She flashed him a look of surprise. “I should like to know your intentions.”
He let out a low chuckle. “You sound like a concerned mother. If it isn’t obvious, I thought we might determine if we would suit.”
She lurched forward, tripping, but he tightened his grip before she went down.
“Careful there,” he said.
Now the look she threw him was tinged with exasperation. “You think it’s that simple?” The question was low and urgent.
“No, but we have to begin somewhere.” There were eight years and a multitude of unknown feelings and hurts between them. They would need to sort them out,ifthey could sort them out.
Two women who were a few years older than Violet stopped before them. They looked at Violet in question before offering curtsies to Nick.
“Allow me to present the Duke of Kilve,” Violet said. “We were recently acquainted at the house party of a mutual friend.” She turned her head to Nick. “Duke, this is Mrs. Dunweavy and Mrs. Frye.”
The women stared at him, slack-jawed for a moment.
Mrs. Frye was the first to regain her tongue. “A pleasure to meet you, Your Grace.” She curtsied again.
“Have you come to town to see the Queen?” Mrs. Dunweavy asked.
He hadn’t, but he grasped that excuse since he couldn’t very well tell them he’d come to Bath to seduce his former lover. “Yes.”
“How splendid,” Mrs. Frye said, smiling. “Everyone is so thrilled she is coming to town. I imagine you’ll be at her audience.”
