Page 9 of Duke of Myste (Braving the Elements #3)
Richard glanced toward the lingering observers, his expression returning to its customary mask of aristocratic indifference. “Indeed. Our attempt at feigning harmonious courtship seems doomed to failure at present.”
They resumed their path, neither speaking for several moments as they struggled to recapture the appearance of pleasant conversation.
Jane was acutely aware of how their brief argument must have appeared to observers—her face flushed with emotion, Richard’s posture rigid with restraint, both clearly engaged in a discussion far more heated than proper courtship allowed.
“I believe we’ve failed rather spectacularly at our assigned task,” Jane noted, her tone colored with reluctant humor rather than anger.
Richard glanced down at her, surprise evident in his expression before he masked it. “Our talents apparently do not include convincing displays of affection.”
“Hardly surprising, given our limited acquaintance and fundamental disagreements,” Jane replied, finding it oddly easier to speak plainly about their situation now that they had both acknowledged the absurdity of their position.
“Perhaps expecting immediate harmony was unrealistic,” Richard acknowledged, his voice softening slightly. “Neither of us is particularly practiced in pretense.”
This unexpected point of agreement—their shared distaste for social falsity—struck Jane as ironically significant. For two people who disagreed on virtually every substantive issue, they shared a fundamental honesty that made their charade particularly challenging.
“We might consider a different approach,” she suggested as they rounded the ornamental lake, where several swans glided with effortless grace—a stark contrast to their own awkward navigation.
“Rather than attempting to suppress our natural discord, perhaps we might channel it into something Society would find… acceptable.”
Richard arched an eyebrow in query. “I am not certain I follow your reasoning.”
“Lively debate can appear quite similar to flirtation from a distance,” Jane explained, warming up to the idea.
“Particularly if accompanied by… appropriate facial expressions and gestures. The ton already expects eccentricity from me. Spirited engagement with my betrothed would scarcely raise eyebrows if properly framed.”
Richard considered this suggestion with surprising seriousness, his pace slowing as he weighed its merits.
“An unconventional approach,” he acknowledged finally. “Though perhaps better suited to our temperaments than artificial agreement.”
“Precisely.” Jane nodded, feeling unreasonably pleased that he had grasped her meaning so quickly. “We need not pretend to agree—merely to enjoy our disagreement.”
For a moment—brief but undeniable—genuine assessment transformed Richard’s stern features, creating a startling impression of what he might look like if truly relaxed in her company. It made her breath hitch in her throat.
“A novel interpretation of courtship harmony, Miss Brandon.”
“Innovation often arises from necessity, Your Grace,” Jane replied, finding herself smiling despite her earlier irritation. “And our situation is nothing if not novel.”
As if to test this new approach, Richard deliberately broached a topic on which they had previously clashed.
“Surely you don’t maintain that Greek and Latin are necessary components of a young lady’s education, Miss Brandon?” he asked, his voice loud enough to be overheard.
“I would argue, Your Grace,” Jane replied with animated gestures, “that any mind capable of mastering such disciplines should not be denied the opportunity simply due to the unfortunate circumstance of being born female.”
“But at what cost to more practical accomplishments?” Richard countered, leaning forward with exaggerated attention. “Would you have young ladies neglect music and artistic pursuits for dusty translations?”
“Not neglect, but choose ,” Jane emphasized with a smile that belied the spirited nature of their debate. “After all, a well-trained mind makes for far more stimulating conversation than merely accomplished fingers on a pianoforte.”
The exchange drew knowing smiles from passing acquaintances, and Jane found herself genuinely enjoying their performance, particularly when Richard’s eyes betrayed flashes of genuine wit beneath his usual gravity.
“I believe,” Richard observed as they completed their circuit of the park, “that our experiment is succeeding.” He nodded toward several onlookers whose expressions had transformed from scandalized curiosity to something closer to amused approval.
“Though I maintain strong reservations about your position on female scholarship.”
“I expected nothing less,” Jane replied with humor. “Your objections, while entirely misguided, at least demonstrate consistency.”
“High praise, indeed, from a woman who has cataloged my philosophical failings with such thoroughness.”
Their spirited debate earned approving nods from passing acquaintances, and Jane found herself genuinely enjoying their performance, particularly when Richard’s eyes betrayed flashes of genuine wit beneath his usual gravity.
Jane felt an unexpected flutter of something almost like pride at their successful navigation of what had initially seemed an impossible social situation.
As they approached the park gates, where Jane’s carriage awaited, Richard slowed their pace slightly, his expression sobering.
“Miss Brandon,” he began, his voice pitched low for her ears only, “while I cannot pretend that our afternoon progressed entirely as anticipated, I believe we have reached a more… practical understanding.”
Jane considered his assessment, finding herself in reluctant agreement. “A mutual recognition of a sustainable approach to our public appearances.”
“Indeed.” Richard hesitated, then added with surprising candor, “I find I prefer honest opposition to artificial accord.”
“As do I,” Jane admitted.
The shared sentiment created another of those unexpected moments of connection that had begun to punctuate their otherwise contentious relationship.
They reached the carriage in companionable silence, each privately adjusting to this subtle shift in their dynamic. Not a resolution of their fundamental differences, but perhaps a more sustainable way of navigating them within the constraints of their unusual situation.
“Until tomorrow, Miss Brandon,” Richard said, handing her into the carriage with practiced courtesy. “I believe we had discussed visiting the British Museum?”
“Yes, the new classical acquisitions,” Jane confirmed, smoothing her skirts as she took her seat. “Though I warn you, Your Grace, my opinions on proper restoration techniques for ancient artifacts are likely to prove every bit as contentious as my views on female education.”
A ghost of a smile touched Richard’s lips. “I would expect nothing less. Until tomorrow, then.”
After all, a man who preferred honest disagreement to false harmony might possess other qualities worth discovering—a possibility that would have seemed utterly implausible to her when their courtship had begun.
The carriage turned into the street leading to Drownshire House, and Jane steeled herself for the inevitable interrogation from her mother regarding the afternoon’s events.
Whatever confusion might be swirling within her heart regarding the Duke of Myste, she would relay a measured and rational account to her family.
And yet, as she gathered her thoughts, she couldn’t quite suppress the small smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth—a smile that spoke of genuine enjoyment rather than mere social obligation.
It was a most unexpected development in a courtship that had begun under such difficult circumstances—and one she was not yet prepared to share with anyone, least of all the stern, proper Duke who had somehow managed to evolve from antagonist to something considerably more complex in the space of a single afternoon.
Then, Jane suddenly found herself wondering what Richard Riverstone might be like when no one was watching.
Would that rigid posture finally relax? Would his hazel eyes eventually lose their careful calculation?
The thought made her pulse flutter in a way that had nothing to do with matrimonial duty.