Page 23 of The Taming of the Duke
“I assure you, Lady Hardwick, I’ve no intention of bringing Miss Parville to harm.”
She nodded but remained unsmiling, as if she sized him up to determine whether he attempted to deceive her.
“I think,” he added quietly, staring at the seat which Lord Parville had just vacated, “that, rather than bring Miss Parville to harm, I would rather atone for the actions of those closest to her.”
“Perhaps,” she replied. “However, I find it something of a coincidence that your friend Lord Horton is paying court to Miss Parville’s younger sister at the same time you seek to woo Miss Parville herself.”
“Lord Horton’s admiration of Miss Blanche is genuine.”
“And your admiration of Catherine is not?”
“Perhaps it wasn’t at first,” he said. “But I find myself admiring her frankness—a quality that many lack.”
“I suppose I must be satisfied with that,” she said. “My husband speaks well of you, but I’m not one to blindly accept the opinions of others—not even those I love. I prefer to form my own conclusion.”
She rose to her feet, and he followed suit.
“I’ll ask John to bring the curricle round,” she said. “Allyouneed do is find Miss Parville.”
She exited the breakfast room and crossed the hallway to the main doors. A footman stood on the drive outside next to a curricle with two horses.
“Ah, John,” Lady Hardwick said. “Perfect. We only need to find His Grace’s companion.”
“If you mean Miss Parville, ma’am, I saw her in the herb garden earlier.”
“Where’s that?” Dax asked.
The footman gestured toward a privet hedge with an archway in the middle. “Through there, Your Grace.”
“Thank you,” Dax said. “Wait here—I’ll return presently.”
He approached the archway and peered through into an enclosed garden—a small paved area with a sundial in the center, surrounded by borders filled with rows of foliage in various shades of green.
A lone figure stood beside a bush with dark green leaves shaped like small spikes. She turned as he approached, her hair shimmering in the sunlight, and her eyes wide.
“Your Grace! What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come for you,” he said.
She averted her gaze and plucked a sprig from the bush, lifting it to her nose and crushing it between her fingers. “Rosemary,” she breathed. “I always find the aroma comforting. Aren’t you joining the men for the shooting?”
“I thought we agreed last night to take a tour round the estate,” he said.
“Y-yes—but that was before…” Her voice trailed away. She colored, and he could almost read her mind.
That was before you played cards with my father.
“Did you think I’d change my mind?” he asked. “If you knew me better, you’d realize that, of the two of us,I, at least, do not scare easily, Miss Parville.”
She tipped her chin as if in defiance. “Neither do I.”
He approached her and offered his arm. “Then, Miss Parville, your chariot awaits.”
She took his arm, and he placed his hand over hers. She drew in a sharp breath, and her gaze locked with his. For a moment, a connection existed between them—twin souls staring at each other across a chasm. Then, he smiled and steered her toward the archway.
He’d spoken the truth to Lady Hardwick. He did admire Miss Parville—dangerously so.
Once this excursion was over, he’d seek Horton out and tell him that he could keep his hundred guineas. Dax had no need to be paid to spend time in Miss Parville’s company.
