Page 6 of The Duke’s Second Bride (Regency Second Chances #4)

T he outdoors had always been calming to Ava. So, when hours passed without her being able to shake off that sense of dread and foreboding, the most logical remedy was to go for a ride in Hyde Park.

The cool evening air brushed through her hair as she guided her bay horse, Daisy, into a canter.

One of the benefits of being on horseback, she thought, was the fact that one did not have to stop and linger for conversation if one did not want to. Additionally, the view from up here was excellent. The park was rather peaceful, only studded here and there with occupants.

As she passed by a bench, she saw the boy from the other day. If her memory served, his name was Luke, as his father had addressed him.

This time, Luke was accompanied not by his rude father—thank goodness—but by a maid and a footman. He was bent over a sketchpad in his lap, dragging a charcoal across it in careful motions.

Despite her earlier relief at not having to speak to anyone, Ava angled her horse in their direction. As she grew closer, she saw the boy’s movements grow frustrated. He rubbed at a line, attempted to redraw it, and then balled his small hand into a fist.

Ava hopped off her horse and walked over.

As she approached, Luke looked up, his face immediately lighting up. However, the maid and the footman with him stepped forward to prevent her from coming too close.

“Miss,” the footman said, “I must insist that you step away if?—”

“I-It’s all right, Frederick,” Luke said.

“We have met before,” Ava explained. “Though I don’t believe I ever introduced myself. I am Lady Dunfair. And you?’

“Luke,” he said with a smile. “Luke Adler.” He turned to his maid and his footman. “She saved me from the horse at the hot balloon fair.”

The maid’s face brightened immediately. “Ah! A pleasure to meet you, Lady Dunfair. My name is Mary,” she curtsied.

“Likewise,” Ava said with a smile.

“We have heard quite a bit about you, around the house,” the maid said, giving Luke’s head an affectionate pat as she looked down at him. “How you saved him from that horse!”

Ava laughed. “I don’t know if saved is quite right.

The horse wasn’t truly dangerous, merely frightened.

It is normal for animals to take fright at loud noises like a firecracker.

I wouldn’t have brought Daisy here out on a day like that.

She is quite a calm horse, and slow to fright, but it still seems unkind to me to put animals through such unnecessary stress. ”

“May I …” Luke hesitated. “May I pet this horse?”

Despite his nerves, Ava could see the brightness and eagerness in his eyes as he looked at Daisy.

“Of course.” They walked over towards the horse. “This is Daisy,” she said, and demonstrated how to pet the large creature’s neck, running her hand in long, gentle arcs across. “She is very gentle.”

“Good day to you, Daisy,” Luke said quietly. “I-it is very good to meet y-you.”

After a while, Luke was perfectly comfortable with Daisy. Ava even pulled some carrots out of her pocket and showed him how to offer one up with his hand held completely flat to avoid Daisy’s teeth.

“Thank you,” Mary, Luke’s maid, murmured at one point.

Ava looked at her, confused. “For what?” she asked, matching the maid’s tone so that Luke couldn’t overhear.

Luckily, he was much absorbed. With Ava’s permission, he had allowed himself to be lifted onto the horse, and the footman was now leading them around in a small loop.

“Lord Luke rarely speaks so much outside the house,” the maid said.

“Because of his stammer, you understand. He is particularly shy around adults. It is quite … quite a surprise. It seems you have a way with him. You left quite an impression that day at the hot balloon fair, you know. He mentioned ‘the nice lady with the horse’ several times, and how you saved him.”

“He is a sweet boy,” Ava said.

The two watched him smile as he was walked around on the horse, all his earlier shyness gone.

“You are very good with him, my lady. Surely, you and your husband must have children of your own.”

Once again, Ava felt the pang of inadequacy and old scars settle on her heart. “I do not,” she said quietly. “My husband and I were not thus blessed before his passing.”

The nurse’s face went white. “Oh! My Lady, I am so sorry. I did not mean to?—”

Ava shook her head. “It’s quite all right.” She hadn’t meant to make the maid self-conscious. “I appreciate that you think I am well-suited to the job. Thank you for letting me speak to Luke today.”

“Of course,” the maid said. “Thank you. I know it has brought him much joy.”

By the time Ava was back on her horse and ready to go, Luke had settled on the ground under a tree with his large sketchbook back in his lap. She waved to him.

He waved back. “Goodbye, L-Lady Dunfair!”

“Goodbye, Luke!” she called back, before riding off.

Christian hated his study. It was a beautiful place, with walls of finely carved mahogany and dozens of books, but it reminded him so much of his own father.

His parents had been perfectly dutiful, of course, filling the role in every way demanded of them by obligation. He had been fed and clothed, given the best tutors to learn from, and allowed to run the large estate that he was to someday inherit.

He could not say he had been left wanting, not truly. But when he thought of them now, or even when they had passed, the grief he felt was … somewhat dulled, compared to what he had expected.

Had he loved his parents?

Yes, he assumed. Much as he assumed that they must have loved him. And yet, they had not known him, not really, and so he had not known them.

There was no gaping hole left in his life, because they had never much occupied that space to begin with.

It had been different with Isabel.

“Father!”

Christian shook the thought out of his head as his son entered the room, a large white sheet of paper clutched in his hands. “Good afternoon, Luke. Did you enjoy your day in the park? What is it you have there?”

“I-I had a w-wonderful day,” Luke said. “And I brought you th-th-this.” He handed over the paper, as well as a few clover leaves. “The l-leaves are for lu-luck,” he informed his father proudly.

Christian twirled one of the clovers between his fingers. “Excellent,” he declared. “Hard work is the most important thing,” he continued, “but one can never have too much luck, I’m sure. Thank you, Luke.”

He felt warmth bloom in his chest at the way his son beamed at the praise.

For a rare moment, he felt as though he knew how to be a proper parent to the child.

Next, he looked at the drawing. It was of a horse, lightly shaded.

Christian was not much of an artist himself, but he had been to many galleries and artistic soirees in his younger years, and he couldn’t help but think that the steadiness of the lines and the detail was rather impressive for a twelve-year-old.

“The drawing is quite good,” he said. “Is this a horse you saw at the park? Or drawn from memory?”

“It is a drawing of the nice lady’s horse,” Luke said happily.

“Nice lady?” Christian paused, looking up from the drawing to his son, then Mary, Luke’s maid. “What nice lady?”

Mary stepped forward. “While in the park, we ran into the woman who rescued Luke at the fair last week,” she said. “She was out for a ride. Luke asked if he could pet her horse, and she was kind enough to agree.”

Christian felt himself bristle. “I hired you to make sure my son could be safe when he goes out in public,” he said, his tone growing stern. “Not so that you could let him be spoken to by any stranger who approaches.”

“I’m so sorry, Your Grace,” Mary said at once, bowing her head apologetically.

Luke frowned. “Sh-she isn’t a s-stranger,” he said. “We met properly, th-this time. Her name is L-L-Lady Dunfair, and she is my friend.”

Dunfair .

The name tugged at something in the back of Christian’s head. Ah, yes—the late Lord Dunfair. He had died in some hunting accident, hadn’t he? Leaving a widow behind. He supposed the fiery woman with the honey-blonde hair had been the newly widowed Lady Dunfair.

But the hunting accident hadn’t been the only thing he had heard about Lord Dunfair, either.

Other memories came to mind: there had been quite a few rumors surrounding the Dunfairs.

Nasty ones. Several involving Lord Dunfair’s infidelity, for starters.

The man had been a proper scoundrel, entertaining many ladies, frequenting houses of ill repute, before and after his marriage.

Not only that, but he seemingly made little to no effort to hide his escapades from society or from his wife. And with regards to his wife—with whom he had never had children—he had spoken quite vulgarly about her, and insinuated things about her unsuitability to the role of wife and mother.

He felt a slight pang of pity towards Lady Dunfair. It couldn’t have been pleasant to have been married to such a man.

Still, that didn’t excuse her rudeness. Nor her presumptuousness in approaching Luke.

Even if she was kind to his son, Christian knew he ought to be protecting Luke from the attentions of strangers, particularly ones with such bad reputations.

Whatever truth there was or wasn’t to the rumors surrounding Lady Dunfair, it would do Luke no good to be associated with her.

“I will let it slide this once,” he said to Mary.

“Thank you, my lord.”

“But in the future,” he said, glancing at Luke, then immediately back at Mary, trying to erase the image of his son’s disappointed face. “I expect you not to let strangers around my son. No matter how affable they may be.”