Page 20 of Love, the Duke (Say I Do #3)

C HAPTER 20

MAN’S PRACTICAL GUIDE TO APPREHENDING A THIEF

SIR BENTLY ASHTON ULLINGSWICK

Search high and low, near and far.

The skies were gray but not threatening. Ophelia had prepared for her walk in the park with Hurst by donning a lightweight chemise, a long-sleeved white-sprigged walking dress, and a light-brown quilted spencer and matching pelisse. She wore a straw bonnet with a chocolate-colored ribbon tied into a perfect bow under her chin.

Hurst looked dapper dressed in a dark-blue coat and muted-blue waistcoat. The brass handle of a black umbrella was hooked over his wrist and his hat fit perfectly on top of his head. To her, he was the most handsome man in the world.

There were only a few other people on the streets as they walked the short distance before coming upon the entrance to Hyde Park, where there was a flurry of activity. Two other couples and a family with three children walked ahead of them and a bevy of people strolled behind them. The girl and two boys talked and squealed with youthful laughter as the parents quietly conversed with each other, seeming not to notice the youngsters’ rambunctious actions as they skipped, tagged, and shouted to one another in fun. Ophelia liked the couple’s ease and the children’s abandonment.

The road leading into the park was backed up with traffic as people had stopped their carriages to chat with those leaving or others trying to pass those that had halted their horses. No one seemed to be in a hurry, including Ophelia. She was enjoying the time with her Hurst. Walking had always been one of her favorite pastimes. But at the back of her mind, she also had a need to finish the walk so they could return home. However, the duke was having none of the hurrying whenever she tried to pick up the pace. He insisted they stroll.

Truth to tell, she was honest when she told him finding the sacred church vessel was never far from her mind. Her brother had always been her best friend. She’d never rest easy without finding the chalice so there could never be a hint of scandal attached to his name. In her heart of hearts, she felt the man who took it was in London, and she prayed the Dowager Duchess of Stonerick would indeed somehow help her find the man she’d been looking for.

Distant sounds of lively music could be heard as they neared the area designated for the festival. It was no wonder the park was so full, having a May Day atmosphere and the sky slowly changing from gray to blue.

Some sections were thick with small trees and undergrowth while other areas of the terrain appeared wild and woodsy. The parcels that resembled open grassy lands reminded her of her home for so many years. Aside from the milk, vegetable, and other vendor carts that were pushed through the park every day, many people were milling about and intent on enjoying themselves. Some walking, others on horses or riding in various styles of carriages. It looked as if dozens were seated on blankets, enjoying refreshments and conversations.

“I don’t want to lose you as we enter the crowds.” Hurst extended his elbow to her and said, “Hold on to me.”

She looked around. They were not near any crowds, but she didn’t mind slipping her hand through the crook of his arm. It was warm and protective. “I was thinking about you,” she offered as they walked.

“Me?” He gave her a quirky grin. “That gives me cause for concern. What was the reason? Did I do something right or wrong?”

“Neither really. I was thinking about me too.”

Hurst tipped his hat to a couple they passed. The lady smiled at Ophelia, and she returned the silent greeting.

“That means you were thinking about us.”

“All right,” she admitted with a laugh. “Yes. Us. But mostly about you.”

“I like hearing that I am in your thoughts, but am still waiting to hear whether I did something bad or good,” he teased. “With you, I never know.”

“I was remembering last night when we talked about how your childhood and mine were different. You’ve said before our fathers were nothing alike and handled life in their own ways.”

The muscles in Hurst’s arm tightened and he looked away from her. “That’s not something I want to talk about today, Ophelia. The skies are clearing, the air is fresh, and I have you by my side. What more could I want?”

“It is I who wants more. I should know more about you now that I’m your wife. You are an only child, are you not?”

“Yes.”

“Were you lonely at times?” she asked, paying no mind to his remark that he didn’t want to talk about his growing-up years.

“Not that I remember. I lived with various relatives from time to time as I did when I knew your family.” He gave her a smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t see much of you when I was there. You were usually wrapped in blankets and making strange noises.”

Ophelia laughed. “I have never made strange sounds. That was baby talk.”

“Oh, well, no wonder I didn’t know what it was you were saying. I’d never been around a baby and still haven’t.”

“Not to worry. You will learn the language soon enough when we have one.”

He placed his hand lovingly over hers that held on so tightly to the crook of his arm. “I can’t wait.”

“Neither can I,” she answered, and was astounded at how true that really was. She wanted to have Hurst’s baby. Soon. And a boy for him for the title. Maybe three boys. “So back to our discussion of you. Did you go off to school after you left Wickenhamden?”

“No. I went back to live with my father for a couple of years before that.” He looked at her as if he were going to say something more but then turned his gaze back to the landscape again.

“Was it London where you lived with him or elsewhere?”

“London. I’ve made it clear I don’t like talking about my father, or my childhood.” Hurst gave her a low, throaty chuckle. “I lived with him from time to time before my schooling. After he died, my aunt Sophie took pity on me and arranged for my education.”

“That was kind of her.”

“And a good thing she did. I am grateful and look forward to you meeting her. At the time there was no chance I’d inherit the title, but through an unfortunate sickness that went through my uncle’s family, the dukedom fell to me four years ago. Thanks to Aunt Sophie seeing I was properly educated, and my close friendships with Wyatt and Rick, who were already dukes and offered help, I was adequately prepared to assume the duties expected of me as head of the family.”

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t want to talk about that and tell anyone the story. I find it’s uplifting.”

“Only that part is,” he murmured, and nodded a greeting to a couple of gentlemen passing by them.

“Tell me more about your father.”

Ophelia felt the muscles in his arm flex again. He was uncomfortable, but a lovely day in the park with warm sunshine and a pleasant breeze was the perfect time to talk about uncomfortable subjects.

“There isn’t much to tell. His heritage was much like your father’s. The younger son of a younger son who was taken care of by the titled uncle of the family. Where your father decided to go into the clergy to supplement his allowance to properly take care of his family, my father didn’t. An adequate allowance from his uncle was an acceptable lifestyle for him. We could have had a good life. His problem was that he didn’t use his allowance well. As I got older, we argued about that and many other things almost constantly. Does that satisfy you?”

“At least I know more than I did,” she answered honestly.

“It’s enough, Ophelia. Believe me.”

As they made their way closer to the fair, the crowds increased; the music and chatter grew louder. She could see the tents, stalls, and tables not far away.

“Come on,” he said, taking longer strides. “I’ll buy you a sweet cake to eat while we stroll. Later we’ll head down the way to see the elephant.”

“Do they have one here?”

A faint smile touched the corners of his mouth. “I heard mention there might be. I don’t know for sure, but if they do, we’ll see it.”

Ophelia smiled too. “I’d like that.”

The closer they came to where the fair and amusement area had been set up, the more festive the atmosphere seemed. It was the biggest fair Ophelia had ever been to. There were rows of tables lined side by side and covered in what looked like most anything a person would want to indulge in browsing or buying. Some tables were filled with trinkets while others had clothing, baskets, and fabrics on them. Booths housing puppets singing and dancing were mixed in with tables laden with cheese, bread, and various types of preserves.

Two men were walking along merrily as they each clapped two cymbals together. Ophelia didn’t realize she shouldn’t have smiled at them until she had already done it. Suddenly they were walking alongside her continuing with their banging the instruments together. She and Hurst laughed and ducked into the first tent they came to so they could get away from them. It was filled with herbs, seeds, and other plants. Happily, the cymbal men didn’t follow them inside.

Farther down the park, the acrobats and tightrope walkers drew the largest crowds and she and Hurst stopped to watch for a while. Card tables had been placed on a grassy field where gentlemen and ladies were already playing chess, whist, or other card games. Croquet and horseshoes had been set up near the same area and people were lined up waiting for their turn to play.

Ophelia was enjoying herself immensely, taking time to stop and to look at a table of beautifully fashioned dolls while she and Hurst enjoyed a sugar-coated apricot tart and cup of spiced punch.

“I do enjoy being outside and going for long walks,” she told Hurst while putting her gloves back on. “I’ve missed that since I’ve been in London. Maman hasn’t been up to outings during the day, and I can’t walk alone as I could in Wickenhamden.”

“I’ll see to it that we’ll do more of this.”

“I’d like that, and you were right. This is a pleasant diversion from the stress of just waiting around, pacing the drawing room floor.” She laughed softly as they started walking toward the place that had been set aside for the animals. “It’s been much better to pace at the fair.”

“The countryside is beautiful at Hurstbourne. We’ll go come summer. You’ll enjoy walking there and riding.” He glanced over at her. “Do you ride?”

“No, but whenever I’ve been near a horse I’ve felt a kinship of sort. I would love to learn.”

“I’ll teach you,” he replied with a casual air. “I’m surprised Winston didn’t teach you how.”

“Don’t think I didn’t ask him. Neither he nor my parents thought it a proper thing for me to do, so I was denied the opportunity. However, one of my earliest clear memories of my brother was him teaching me to swim.”

Hurst stopped and looked at her with a strange expression. “A girl? Did he?”

“Yes. You might not remember, but there was a deep pond not too far behind the vicarage where I grew up.”

“I remember it well,” he answered, looking for a moment as if distant remembrances raced through his thoughts.

“Well, I couldn’t have been more than three or four at most when I wandered down to the pond by myself one day, even though I had been told many times not to go near the water.”

He lifted one corner of his mouth and grunted a laugh. “So, I see you had trouble obeying as soon as you got out of the nursery.”

“Never mind about that,” she said in a good-natured tone. “Luckily, Winston found me before I decided to dip my toes into the water that would have been over my head should I have fallen in. He was very upset with me. Perhaps the only time he ever was. Papa gave him permission to teach me to swim.”

They started walking again. “Did Winston tell you he taught me to swim as well?”

“No,” she said, delighted. “Thank you for telling me. I like hearing things about him I didn’t know. He talked of how you two would often enjoy cooling off in the tepid water of the pond on hot summer days and on days when the water was so cold you both found slivers of ice in it.”

Hurst chuckled. “That’s true. There were occasions when our lips turned blue. Someday I’ll have to share more of my remembrances of Winston with you.”

“I would like that very much.”

Only a few steps farther she caught sight of something glimmer out of the corner of her eye, and she turned to see a booth set up with dark-red draperies tied back with gold-colored tassels on either side. Shelving had been erected on a wall and there in front of her were several gold and silver wine goblets, one that looked exactly like Chatham’s chalice.

For a moment she couldn’t breathe or move.

“What is it?” he asked.

“That looks like the chalice.”

“What?”

In the next instant Ophelia broke away from Hurst’s arm and rushed toward the booth.

“Wait!” he called.

But Ophelia was running blindly. Reaching the booth before Hurst, she immediately leaned her whole body over the table and stretched to grab the cup off the shelf. Just before her hand closed around it, the shaft of Hurst’s closed umbrella suddenly appeared like a gate in front of her, stopping her forward motion.

Shocked, she turned to Hurst. “I need to see it,” she whispered frantically

“Let the man behind the counter get it for you,” he said calmly, softly. “That’s his job.”

Ophelia looked over at the stout, red-bearded fellow who clearly didn’t know what to make of a lady who was all but crawling over a table to get an item on his shelving.

“Yes, of course,” she said, straightening her pelisse and forcing herself to smile at the confused man. “I would like to see it please if you would be so kind.”

“Which one would you like to see?” the man asked.

She pointed to the chalice and realized her hands were trembling. When she took hold of it her spirits fell like a heavy rock; she knew immediately it wasn’t the real cup. She had held the precious cup many times. This one wasn’t heavy enough. Still, not wanting to believe the obvious, she quickly looked under the stand of the stem for the markings of the maker. There were none. It wasn’t real gold. Her spirits, which had just soared so high, plummeted. Feeling lightheaded, she took several deep breaths.

Confident she was holding herself together and showing no signs of crumbling, she looked at Hurst and, somehow, found the willpower to say, “It’s not the real one.”