Page 27

Frederick could not stop thinking of that kiss! And not just the kiss but everything that happened before it. The way they had argued. The manner in which she had defied him—speaking to him in ways that nobody, anywhere, had ever dared to speak. The effect that this had on his self-control, the urges it boiled up inside of him, and his inability not to act on said urges.

Frederick prided himself on his control. He had spent a lifetime molding himself into the perfect bastion of the ton andeverything it stood for. And yet all it took was being alone in a room with that woman, and his walls had come crashing down around him.

Even worse, deep down, he wished for it to happen again. Not that he would ever say such a thing out loud.

“You know,” George began carefully, “it is not such a bad thing to find a woman attractive.”

“What are you talking about?” Frederick snapped.

“I am just saying, if this governess is as beautiful as you said?—”

“I never said that.”

“Implied then,” he corrected. “Is that such a bad thing? You are single. She is single. You need a wife. She needs a husband?—”

“I never said anything of the sort,” he dismissed.

“But you do need one,” George pointed out. “And before you snap and snarl at me, even you must admit that it is high time that you married again. With but one daughter to your name, an heir is what you need, Your Grace. And what better way to produce one than through wedlock.”

Frederick turned in his saddle and glared at his best friend.

George held his hands up as if to surrender. “Just something to think about is all.”

Frederick had thought about it. For years now, in fact, he had thought long and hard on the subject of marriage. As a Duke, it was expected that he marry again if for no other reason than to produce an heir. But did he want to do that? His last marriage was such a disaster that he didn’t much relish the idea of going through such an ordeal as that ever again.

Although—and this was a thought that had come to him these last few days—if he could find the right woman—one who cared not just for him, but for Isabella also—it might not be the worst thing. Certainly, it would be something to consider.

“Come on.” Frederick gave his head a shake, dismissing those thoughts as he kicked his heels into the side of his horse, taking off. “It is time we got back.”

“Urgh!” George did the same, muttering under his breath as he tried to catch up to Frederick. “My stomach!” he groaned. “I really should not have had that second helping…”

CHAPTER TEN

Frederick returned home to the sound of music. An enchanting melody being played on the pianoforte; it drifted through the foyer and swept over Frederick as if it was being played just for him.

“Hhmm, not bad,” George noted. “Isabella?”

Frederick frowned as he took note of the song. A difficult piece, well above his daughter’s skill level. “I… I do not think so. Although, she was supposed to be having lessons today.”

George grinned and pumped his eyebrows. “It seems that this Miss Dowding knows her stuff. A good teacher as well as easy on the eyes…”

Frederick fixed his friend with an unamused expression. “Do not even say it.”

“Ha!” He hurried through the foyer in the direction of the music. “Come on then! Let us see for ourselves.”

“George!” Frederick shouted after him. “There is no need to—” George disappeared around the corner, leaving Frederick standing alone in the foyer.

He had spent three days avoiding Miss Dowding. Three days doing so because he did not wish to put himself in the same position as he had the first day they had met. Three days of convincing himself that he simply did not wish to see her because of how angry she made him, worried that if he saw her again, he might snap, snarl, and then she would quit as so many had done before her.

It was for his daughter that he did it! An easy lie to swallow. But left with no choice, knowing that he was going to have to speak with her again eventually, Frederick swallowed his pride and his worry and hurried after his friend.

He found him in the drawing room down the hall, standing in the doorway as he watched and listened. Coming in behind him, Frederick braced himself for the sight of his daughter sitting at the pianoforte, showing off skills that would have forced him to admit that maybe Miss Dowding wasn’t so bad for his daughter as he wished.

Only, as he stepped around George, he was perhaps a little too pleased to see that it wasn’t his daughter playing at all. Rather, it was his grandmother.

She was laughing as she played, seeming to have the time of her life. Isabella stood beside her, watching as she did so, while Miss Dowding stood back in the middle of the room, arms folded, grinning to herself as she nodded her head.

And Frederick breathed a sigh of relief.