Page 14 of The Burdened Duke (Willenshires #4)

Miss Bainbridge cornered the duke, as Lavinia had known she would. Anyway, they were almost at the tea-house.

Streams of people were approaching their meeting point, not just from their own party, but others, too. People talked and laughed and gestured, some hurrying towards the confectioneries, keen to eat. Lavinia found herself walking alone.

Miss Bainbridge, having slid her arm through the duke’s, hurried him ahead, so that it was just the two of them. Lavinia was left to fall behind, walking with Mr. and Mrs. Bainbridge. Of course, they did not care to talk to her. They tossed their heads, bestowing frosty smiles on her, and talked quietly among themselves, excluding her from the conversation.

She tried not to care.

He’s a duke, she reminded herself. He’s not some nervous, gawky young man. If he wanted to talk to me, well, then, he would. He would. And he isn’t.

This was a more painful thought than she’d anticipated. Ducking her head, Lavinia concentrated instead on the paving stones beneath her feet.

At least heartbreak – if that is what this is, of which I’m not convinced – is not doing anything to my appetite. I’m absolutely starving.

On that note, somebody cleared their throat beside her. She glanced up to find a short, round-faced young man with round spectacles smiling hopefully at her.

“Miss, er, Miss Brookford, isn’t it?”

“Lord Langley,” she said, a little pleased at herself for remembering. Lord Ethan Langley was a single man with a half-decent title and a good fortune, with two left feet when it came to dancing and a surprising passion for music. He was about three and twenty, not particularly handsome, and had shown a great deal of interest in Gillian.

Lady Brennon wanted Gillian to look for “larger prizes”, as she put it, and there were certainly wealthier men than Lord Langley in the party.

There were poorer men, too, which Lavinia had pointed out. Besides, Gillian’s face brightened whenever she saw Lord Langley, and the pair of them had talked about music and literature and all sorts of frivolities for hours on end at previous gatherings.

“I see that Miss Gillian is not here today,” Lord Langley said, falling into step beside Lavinia.

At least I don’t have to face the humiliation of having nobody to escort me into the tea-house, Lavinia thought, biting back a mirthless smile.

“Yes, she’s rather ill, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, I am sorry. Is it serious? Should a physician be fetched? I could fetch one at once, Miss Brookford, if necessary.”

She gave a more sincere smile at that. “No, thank you, Lord Langley. It is kind of you, though. No, my sister is just tired. It’s nothing a little rest won’t settle. I daresay you’ll see her at dinner tonight. She was disappointed to miss out on the Gardens, though. Too much dancing, I think.”

Lord Langley nodded seriously. “Dancing is a very pleasant pastime, I’m sure, but dreadfully tiring. Only yesterday, Miss Gillian said…”

He launched into an account of some conversation that he and Gillian had shared. Lavinia smiled politely, but her mind drifted.

The duke and Miss Bainbridge had, by this time, disappeared into the crowd. She had no doubt that she would not see them again.

***

“He’s fond of you, that is certain.”

Lavinia glanced up, meeting her mother’s eye. “What do you mean?”

They were heading back to the house, just the two of them rattling around in their carriage. Lady Brennon sat opposite, her feet propped up on the other carriage seat, smiling to herself, looking pleased.

“I am talking about the duke, of course,” Lady Brennon shook her head. “You are so naive. Who else? He was so pleased to be paired with you, anybody could see that.”

“He’s a polite man, Mama. If he were dismayed, he’d never let on.”

“Perhaps, perhaps. But I saw how his face lit up. I saw the way his eyes tracked you around.”

Lavinia bit her lower lip, hard.

I wish I could believe that.

“Of course,” Lady Brennon continued, half speaking to herself now, “A man like him has a great deal more to consider than his own personal preferences. He may like you, but he must consider a great deal when it comes to choosing the next duchess. This is when it would serve you, my dear, to be more ladylike . Do you understand what I mean?”

“Perfectly, Mama. Still, I don’t intend to change myself to suit some man’s idea of what a bride should be.”

Lady Brennon sniffed. “And that is why you’re on the cusp of spinsterhood, my dear. It’s of no matter. I believe you might be right about that Bainbridge girl. She has her eye on him, and she would make a perfect duchess, anyone can see that. Your manners are not what they should be. Oh, I do wish he’d settled his eye on Gillian. She’s a little young, true, but perhaps…” Lady Brennon faltered, glancing over at her daughter for the first time since she’d begun speaking.

Lavinia tried to compose her expression, not entirely sure what her mother was seeing in her face. Whatever she saw, it wasn’t good.

“Oh, my dear,” Lady Brennon breathed. “You like him, don’t you?”

Lavinia pressed her lips together in a thin line. “He’s a nice enough man. He’s pleasant. Of course I like him.”

“That,” Lady Brennon said firmly, “was not what I meant.”

Yes, Mama, I know what you meant. I do not wish to discuss it. Is that so wrong?

Lavinia wanted to scream, and cry, and drum her feet on the seat like a child, and shout that it was not fair that she should finally, finally meet a man that made her heart beat fast, a man she wanted to speak to, wanted to be near, wanted to marry , only to have him whipped out from under her nose by a Miss Bainbridge.

She wanted to do all of that, but of course she did not. It wasn’t proper, and would do no good, at the end of the day. Besides, Lavinia wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to manage her mother’s well-meaning sympathy. Perhaps saying it aloud would make it more real than it ought to be.

“Weren’t you the one who told me to manage my feelings, Mama?” Lavinia said, flashing a wry smile. “You gave Gillian the same advice. You told her not to feel too much until she was sure of a return, so that the feelings might not be wasted. I thought it was rather good advice.”

Lady Brennon started to look a little unsure.

There, you see, Lavinia thought. I can be as cool and composed as I please. You taught me that, at least.

“Well, I suppose so,” Lady Brennon said at last. “That is a fair point. You might secure his feelings still, you know. If you were to apply yourself. Mightn’t you, Lavinia?”

Lavinia smiled faintly, glancing out of the window. The white streets of Bath zipped past, one after the other.

“Yes,” she said, guardedly. “I might.”

It was easy enough to evade Lady Brennon once they returned home. The house was chaos, with everybody trying to get up to their bedchambers to change, some wanting refreshments, some wanting to sit down, everybody wanting something . The long-suffering servants darted here and there, trying to take care of everyone. The Dowager Duchess glided amongst it all, the very image of a gracious host. Lavinia could not see the duke, and she was glad of that.

Once she returned to her bedchamber, Lavinia changed into a plain gown and sturdy boots. She took the back stairs – shocking, yes, but she was lucky enough not to encounter any disapproving servants and slipped out into the courtyard without incident.

I should have brought a maid, Lavinia thought wryly, and struck out towards the stables at once.

Naturally, the stables had been off-limits to her since they had arrived. Lady Brennon had been very clear on that. Ladies might ride, occasionally, with gentlemen, but they did not frequent stables. Stables were dirty, smelly, crowded, and the province of men.

And since this entire excursion was for Gillian’s benefit, and Gillian would not be benefited by being seen with a sister stinking of horse and covered in straw, Lavinia obeyed.

Today was the last straw, however.

Lavinia stuck her head into the stables, intending to make her way down the rows of stalls and inspecting the horses inside. She’d seen some of the horses the other guests had brought, and they were marvellous creatures. A hunting party had been planned for later in the week, and that would take up just about every horse in the stables. Lavinia was looking forward for the opportunity to ride. And if she chose to take a little practice run earlier, well, what of it? Her father had agreed on bringing Stepper along and so she thought that her favourite horse could do with the exercise, and so could she.

She was about to enter the stables when something caught her eye outside.

Frowning, Lavinia rounded the building, squinting at a paddock set alongside.

The paddock was empty, with the exception of one horse. Immediately, she remembered the fabulous stallion she’d seen on the way here, with the glossy black mane and the beautifully arched neck.

Sorry, Stepper, she thought with a wry smile. I’ll come back to see you soon, I promise.

Leaving the stables behind, Lavinia moved towards the paddock. She stepped up onto the lowest slat of the fence, which allowed her to rest her arms on the top of the fence, and just watched.

The creature was running round and round in circles, tossing its head. Its mane was sleek and glossy, rippling out behind it. In places, its black coat appeared almost blue, glistening and shimmering. She imagined that somebody had brushed the horse’s coat till it gleamed.

The horse paused in its galloping, tossing its head towards her. Large, dark eyes lingered on her, gleaming with intelligence. The horse was watching her, she realized.

After a moment, the horse began to troop towards her, head bobbing, eyes cautious.

Thankfully, Lavinia had planned to bring treats for the horses, and her pockets were full of sliced carrots. She withdrew one piece, holding it out carefully.

The horse paused just out of arm’s reach, watching her guardedly. Up close, he was even larger than she had thought. She could get up on Stepper’s back without a mounting block, if necessary, but not up onto this horse. He was huge .

She kept her hand steady, waiting. Horses could be skittish things, for all their size, and this particular one seemed more skittish than most.

Lavinia held her breath. After what seemed like an eternity, the horse leaned forward a few more inches, and gently picked up the piece of carrot from her palm, soft mouth lipping at her skin.

He crunched his treat, eyeing her thoughtfully. Lavinia allowed herself a small smile of triumph. She reached out to touch the horse’s nose, but he flicked his head back, ears pressing against his head, and she took the hint. Instead, she reached into her pocket for more carrots.

The horse crunched happily, coming a few steps closer. The next time that Lavinia reached out to touch his soft nose, his ears only flickered a little. He allowed it, and her heart leapt.

“Aren’t you beautiful?” she murmured.

The horse whinnied gently.

And then a man’s voice, frantic with fear, cut through the silence. The stallion’s ears flattened against his head again.

“What on earth are you doing, you foolish girl? Whatever you do, don’t touch that horse! Don’t touch that horse!”