Page 30 of Fit for a Duke
The conversation turned to horses and a proposed race later in the week. Ezra would participate in the race but had little to add to the current conversation and allowed both his mind and his gaze to wander, which is when he became conscious of someone watching him from the house. He glanced up and his gaze clashed with Clio’s. No one was taking much notice of him, other than Salford, who followed the direction of Ezra’s gaze and appeared surprised that it was Clio who held his attention.
Ezra inclined his head in an irreverent and proprietary manner, curious to see how Salford would respond. As he had supposed would be the case, Salford looked away and struck up a conversation with someone else. Salford wouldn’t deliberately draw the attention of the company to Ezra’s interest in the chit when he himself was supposed to have engaged her affections.
‘Let the sport commence,’ Ezra muttered beneath his breath.
‘We are about to play pell-mell. I am sure you are familiar with the French game, your grace,’ Lady Fletcher said, bustling up to join the gentlemen. ‘Indeed, I believe it is often called croquet nowadays for some reason. I cannot keep track of all these new-fangled names. Anyway, gentlemen, please select your partners. The ladies would benefit from instruction, I have no doubt.’
‘What a charming prospect,’ someone remarkedsotto voce, to a chorus of muted laughter.
Henry led the exodus and bowed before Adele Fletcher. Ezra permitted himself a half smile, thinking that his enthusiasm would please Clio, who had yet to present herself. Ezra felt half-inclined to hide himself away and wait for her arrival but as guest of honour he was obliged to play his part.
He enjoyed being contrary and so bowed in front of the least attractive female present, asking her to do him the honour of partnering him. The other females looked on in open-mouthed astonishment, shaking their heads in bewilderment.
‘I don’t think you are supposed to ask me,’ the lady, Miss Devonshire he thought her name was, remarked with wry amusement.
‘One of the benefits of being a duke, Miss Devonshire, is that one can please oneself, and it would please me very much to partner you.’
‘Fortunately for you, your grace, I understand that you have a reason for being civil and so shall not read more into your gesture than was intended by it. It must be terribly trying to be in your situation.’ She smiled good-naturedly up at him. ‘Now, how does one play this wretched game?’
Mark Salford hung back, watching with wry amusement as the duke disappointed his bevy of admirers by offering to partner the plainest girl in attendance. There was only one person whom Mark had the slightest intention of partnering and she had not yet come down. Where the devil was she? He had seen her watching from her chamber window a few moments ago, as had the duke. Mark had raised a hand in greeting but if she had seen him, she hadn’t acknowledged the gesture. He did not at all like her independent state of mind; she was far too young to have become such a deep thinker. Not that the fairer sex were capable of particularly deep thought, but that was beside the point.
He tapped his foot, aware that several ladies still wanted for partners and were casting encouraging glances in his direction. Just when good manners were on the point of forcing him to select one of them, Clio emerged from a side door, looking fresh and vibrant in a becoming gown of pale blue sprigged muslin, a parasol tipped at a jaunty angle over one shoulder. She really had become quite attractive in an unconventional manner, he thought. Perhaps marriage to her wouldn’t be such drudgery after all.
‘Clio, there you are.’ He smiled at her and raised his hat, fully expecting his greeting to be warmly reciprocated now that she’d had an opportunity to become accustomed to his presence and appreciate being noticed by him.
‘Should you not be playing?’ she asked, walking straight past him.
‘I was waiting for you to partner me.’ Perdition, how dare she be so dismissive of his attentions! Didn’t she realise just how fortunate she was? Seemingly not, but Mark never backed away from a challenge and was damned if she’d get the better of him. He would have her yearning for a kind word, a look, a touch, before he was done with the impertinent miss, and long before they exchanged vows.
‘There are enough players. I don’t intend to join in.’
‘Excellent! We shall walk instead.’
She seemed annoyed to have made life easy for him, but she fell into step beside him, ignoring his proffered arm, as he moved away from the croquet lawn. She tilted her head so that she was looking slightly away from him, acknowledged one or two of the ladies as they passed them by but made no effort to instigate a conversation.
‘You have grown up since we last met,’ he remarked, wincing at the banality of the comment. He ought, he belatedly realised, to have prepared better and come up with a compliment, but he had been so sure that she would have come to her senses…
‘Why are you really here?’ she asked. ‘And please don’t pretend that you are madly in love with me and asked my father’s permission to address me, since I shall not believe you.’
‘Even if it is true.’
‘It is not, Captain Salford. You just now remarked that I have grown up, implying that I was still a child when we last met.’ She sent him a mocking sideways glance. ‘Have you developed a taste for children, Captain?’
Mark bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, thereby preventing himself from issuing the cutting retort that sprang to mind. If she had been a man, he would have struck her down for her insolence. But then again, if she had been a man, they would not have been conducting this conversation.
‘You underestimate your charms, my dear, and your father’s plans for you. He wanted to be sure that you would be secure after his death.’
‘Nonsense!’ She tossed her head. ‘My father barely acknowledged my existence.’
‘He was very proud of your achievements and often spoke of them. Ask any of the officers who served beneath him if you doubt my word. He intended to talk to you about his desire to see us united, and I am anxious to comply with the wishes of a man whom I respected enormously.’
‘Ah, I see.’ She sent him a withering look. ‘And there was I attempting to persuade myself that I had got it all wrong and that you actuallyarein the throes of undying love.’
They strolled through a pretty orchard at the side of the house where there were any number of secluded spots in which Mark could launch his charm campaign, free from interruption and prying eyes. But he knew better than to try it. First, he needed to win her confidence; a task that was likely to be harder than he had at first envisaged. The kitten had most definitely developed claws. Mark could no longer pretend otherwise.
‘Perhaps, at first, I was motivated by my desire to fulfil your father’s wishes, but since meeting you here I have come to admire you enormously. Passionate love is the stuff of fiction, Clio, but be assured that if you will have me, I will be a devoted and attentive husband who will ensure that you want for nothing.’
‘Thank you, Captain, but I want for nothing now so where is the advantage in surrendering my independence?’
