Page 25 of The Duke Not Taken

He supposed he couldn’t fault her for thinking he was someone he was not. He certainly hadn’t guessed she was the infamous princess everyone was talking about. She’d been dressed in drab brown with a hood or a hat every time he saw her. He’d thought her a farm woman.

Another surprise to him, once he realized that he had seen her before, was that she was actually quite pretty. Some might even say beautiful.

Which was merely an observation. Nothing there to entice him.

Over the course of the afternoon, he’d watched her surreptitiously. Oh, but she was enjoying herself, wasn’t she? She clearly thrived being the center of attention. She was unafraid to appear less than regal by running with the girls, carrying streamers like they were exhorting them to chase her. Nor did she have any qualms about collapsing to the ground in a heap, out of breath, so that any gentleman wanting to speak to her would have to go down onto a knee while she fanned herself. She chatted easily, laughed easily, and, from his vantage point, flirted easily.

But ask her not to use a private path, and by God, the claws came out.

Miles, who returned to Joshua’s side only once to doff his coat, had tried to convince him to enjoy the spirit of the day. “Come on, lad. It’s a fine day. A bit of laughter might do you good. She’s rather diverting.”

“No, thank you.” Joshua preferred to sulk beneath a tree, his back against the trunk, watching it all unfold while he smugly assured himself he was right to have not wanted to come.

He managed to do just that until the unfortunate moment Lady Aleksander intervened.

He hadn’t seen her in years. She’d greeted him when she’d first arrived at the picnic, offering her condolences, smiling in that piteous way everyone smiled when a man had lost his wife and child. He’d brushed it off, had inquired after the health of her and her husband, and being assured that nothing was rotten in Denmark, had wandered off.

But here she came again. “Joshua,” she said warmly, and put out her hands as if she meant to grasp his and pull him to his feet. “Or should I say, Your Grace? Goodness, so much has changed for you since we last met. I don’t know how you’ve borne it.”

A vast understatement. He was a wifeless, childless duke now. “We are well acquainted, madam. Please, call me Joshua as you once did.” He could hardly look her in the eye—she was the one who had introduced him to Diana, had arranged the whole thing after everything had fallen apart with Sarah. She was the one who knew what no one else in the world knew—well, save Diana—that he’d been happy enough with his marital arrangement as those things went. But Diana was no great love of his.

He didn’t want to be reminded. He might not be able to help being sullen, but he would not be rude to her. So he sat up and put his hand in hers, and she clasped it firmly, squeezing a little. “It really is so very good to see you after all this time,” she said.

He wondered what was so very good about it. “Thank you.”

For the record, he’d been no great love of Diana’s, either. They’d been...friendly. Bound to duty. She lived a life in a social circle she might not otherwise have enjoyed had she settled for love. He had all the necessary ingredients to produce an heir, and that he did, three times over, two of them ending in miscarriage and the last, well...everyone knew how that had ended.

He and Diana had lived separate lives under the same roof, coming together for meals on occasion, and, of course, to fulfill their duties in procreating.

Lila let go of his hand. “How are you faring? I understand you’ve been away quite a lot from Hollyfield.” Without invitation, she sank down onto the ground beside him, landing with a bit of a grunt, and waving off the hand he hastily put out to help her.

“I am well, thank you. And you?” He’d leave the remark about being away from Hollyfield to flit off in the sunshine and spring air.

“Oh,verywell. I adore England this time of year. Everything is so fresh and colorful and hope for renewal abounds, doesn’t it?” She settled onto one hip, facing him, her back to the antics in the field. “But I’ve been thinking about you.”

Joshua frowned. “I’d advise against it. I’m not good company these days, I’m afraid. I would have thought Clarendon would have told you.”

“He hasn’t said a word about your company.”

“Astonishing,” he drawled. Miles was no help to him at all. He sighed and shifted his gaze to the distance. “I think you’d find the day more delightful if you kept close to your ward.”

“My ward!” Lady Aleksander laughed. “If you mean the princess, you can surely see for yourself that there is no need for me to be close. She is very good at occupying herself. And others.”

Was she? What he knew of her was that she stomped about the countryside and then frightened grown men with her riding.

The group was playing a game of Skittles. The wooden “skittles” stood upright and were arranged in a pattern. Each team tried to knock them down by rolling a ball. Points were assigned for the difficulty of striking one in the pattern. Highsmith and Miles had teamed with the princess, and Mr. and Mrs. Darren, Wexham, and the vicar were on the opposing team. The Iddesleigh girls weren’t on any team, because it was a general rule that children should be seen and not heard and certainly not invited to engage with adults in this manner,or so he would have thought...but they took turns insisting to the adults that they should be allowed a turn, and in most cases, being granted the opportunity.

“How is your mother?” Lady Aleksander asked. “I remember her with fondness. Such a jovial woman.”

Joshua hadn’t seen his mother since Diana’s funeral. She had looked at her own son as if he’d plunged a knife into Diana’s heart. He had plunged something into her, all right, but he hadn’t known it would kill her. “I think she is not as jovial as she once was.”

“Ah, well. A mother carries the burdens of her children. You know, Joshua, I could help you—”

“No.” He spoke with a bit too much force and took a moment to collect himself. “No, thank you.”

“I understand your reluctance. But it’s different now, isn’t it? Many years have passed and I’ve a list of ladies suitable for the life as a duchess and a companion. You’d—”

“No.” A tightness crept up his back and into his neck. “I have no interest in the state of holy matrimony.” He leaped to his feet with a huff of impatience. He thrust out his hand, offering to help her up. She hesitantly took it and allowed him to pull her up.

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