Page 7 of The Duke’s Second Bride (Regency Second Chances #4)

“ A re you enjoying yourself?” Edith asked for the fourth or fifth time.

Ava rolled her eyes kindly at her friend’s tendency to over-worry.

“As I said previously, yes. I promise, I am having quite a good time. Who couldn’t, in such beautiful surroundings?

” she continued, gesturing at the climbing gardenia, the pinks and reds of the azaleas, and the blooming rhododendron bushes that had been carefully cultivated around the Aberton estate.

“Of course. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bother you. It’s just that you’ve been so quiet since that day at the modiste,” Edith said. “More than usual.”

Ava felt her heart sink. An entire week had passed since her encounter with Brandon, but she had yet to tell her best friend. After all, what good would it do? What would Edith be able to do to help her?

“I don’t mean to worry you,” she began, in an attempt to smooth things over. “I simply don’t have much to speak of,” she lied. “You know I lead quite a quiet life.”

Edith smiled. “Yes,” she said, clearly mollified by the excuse. “You certainly do. I’m most grateful you allowed me to drag you out today.”

“It is I who is grateful to you,” Ava said. “If you hadn’t dragged me out, as you say, however would I have occupied my afternoon?”

As they continued walking, Ava heard the indiscreet whispers around them.

“It is a pity seeing those two out and about. No woman should be widowed so young,” one lady said.

“At least dear sweet Edith is well-engaged with charities and good causes about the ton,” another said. “I can’t imagine what Lady Dunfair does all day.”

“Really, Madge, be kind. After all, she does not even have the benefit of children to remember her husband by.”

“And whose fault is that?” another voice cut in sharply.

“I’m sure we can’t completely excuse the blame from the late Lord Dunfair. He certainly spent more time outdoors than at home with his wife, where he belonged.”

“I heard she was so frigid, she refused to let him touch her, and refused to have children,” someone else responded.

“Is it any wonder he had to find comfort in the arms of others? And if she had enticed him to stay at home more, perhaps he wouldn’t have fallen victim to that terrible hunting accident. ”

The crowd nearby burst into gasps and titters. “Can you believe it?” “How shocking!” “Well, if I had known that sooner, I certainly would have given Lady Dunfair a piece of my mind …”

Edith turned, about to say something, but Ava grabbed her arm. “No,” she said quickly. “Don’t. Just let them be.”

Edith turned back to her, face wracked with indignation. “You can’t expect me to sit by and let them say such awful things about you! I don’t understand how you can listen to them.”

“Please, Edith. For my sake.” Ava looked at her with pleading eyes until Edith nodded, relenting. She felt herself relax with relief. “Thank you. Forgive me. I think I need to take a moment for myself.”

Before Edith could protest, she turned and began to walk briskly away from the crowd.

The garden party was already in full bloom when Christian and Luke arrived.

He noticed several of the ladies about the grounds marking his entrance.

As a young widower of title and financial means, he knew he would be a popular mark by several of the overbearing mothers of the ton once debutante season came about.

When some of their eyes fell upon Luke, he tensed up.

He had expected that having a son would deter some of the parents of the ton from wanting to pair their daughters with his household—after all, any children they bore would be after Luke in the line of inheritance.

But rather than dissuading anyone, instead, people seemed to see Luke as an easy way to curry favor with the Duke of Richmond.

Sure enough, a gaggle of women immediately approached Luke and him.

“Your Grace,” one of them said, sweeping into an overdramatic curtsy. “And this must be your son! What a delightful boy. What is your name, son?”

“L-L-L—” Luke broke up, clearly frustrated.

“What’s that?” asked an older man who had joined the crowd, raising a hand to his ear in an exaggerated manner. “You’ll have to speak up, lad! My ears aren’t what-what- what they used to be.”

Christian felt his ire flame up at this stranger mocking his son’s stutter. Looking down, he saw Luke was similarly angered, his little face red as he clenched his fists.

“Luke,” the boy managed, though it clearly took great effort. “M-my name is Luke.”

“And what a lovely name it is,” one of the older women cooed. “How old are you?”

“He’s eleven,” Christian answered for his son, not wanting to see the boy struggle.

“You have quite a wonderful father, Lord Luke,” the woman continued, almost ignoring Christian to continue addressing the boy, though she did throw a cheeky grin up at Christian, as though they were in on a joke.

“And very fortunate that he would bring you to such a marvelous event as the Aberton’s garden party.

It is the social ticket of the season. Did you ask him to bring you, my lord? ”

“I brought him because I wished to,” Christian said stiffly. “It is good for young children to socialize in a quiet, peaceful setting.”

If the woman heard his subtle indication for the crowd to disperse and give them some room, she didn’t show it.

“Yes. It is so true. My Margaret was similarly shy when she was just a girl; though, of course, she is now a most beautifully eloquent speaker, and reads often when we have guests. She can read in English, French, and even a little Italian. Perhaps sometime, you could call on us, Your Grace, and she could?—”

“Perhaps,” Christian said, not caring anymore if he sounded rude.

“And of course, you are welcome to bring Lord Luke with you! Tell me, child, are you much fond of reading?”

Luke nodded, not trying to speak.

“I’d dearly appreciate a response, my lord. It is unbecoming of a future duke to act so brutishly.”

“Now, that is enough , madam,” Christian gritted through his teeth.

But, before Christian could say any more, Luke turned tail and began to run.

“Oh! Why, I never—” the woman began, but Christian left before he could hear anything more.

Luke was fast, and at his small height was able to nimbly dart through the throngs of people crowding the garden, much more easily than any grown man.

Christian bit back a curse. After what he had said to the maid, and now he could barely keep an eye on his own son without losing him after five minutes? He was meant to protect the boy. If he left the garden party, who knew where he would run to next? What if he got hurt?

Pushing through another group of people, Christian was relieved to have Luke in his sights once more. And, to his surprise, Luke didn’t seem to be running away from the party at all.

Instead, he was running towards a woman. A woman who now seemed familiar: a woman with honey-blonde hair, a petite, curvy figure encased in an elegant pink daytime garden dress, and sharp, intelligent hazel eyes.

Lady Dunfair.

When Luke reached Lady Dunfair, he tugged on her sleeve, and she looked down. Though Lady Dunfair looked surprised to see Luke, she also did not seem displeased. Instead, a smile spread across her face, and she said something to him—what Christian assumed was a warm greeting.

“… good to see you again,” Christian overhead Lady Dunfair say as he came closer. “Are you here with your maid and footman again?”

“He’s here with me,” Christian said sharply as he reached them. Lady Dunfair looked up, her eyes flying open and then hardening as she took in his presence. “And it’s time we returned. Perhaps to a quieter part of the garden. Come along, Luke.”

He gripped his son’s hand, but Luke tugged it away. “No,” he said. “I-I’m not g-going.”

“Luke,” Christian said, struggling to keep any impatience from entering his voice. “I think we’ve bothered this lady quite enough.”

“It’s no bother,” Lady Dunfair said at once.

Christian glared at her; he couldn’t help it.

How dare she contradict him in front of his son? And indeed, how dare she continue to look so temptingly beautiful as she did so?

“He can stay if he wishes,” she added.

“That is very kind of you, but we have to leave.”

“What’s more, you should be gentler with him.”

Christian froze, then looked back up. Those proud hazel eyes were hardened to steel, as though she were already anticipating his response.

“I beg your pardon?” he said.

“No need to beg it.” She raised her chin. “He is a child, and a very sweet and intelligent one, at that. I am assuming you’ve seen his drawings?”

Christian began to feel his impatience welling up again inside him. “Well, I know you certainly have,” he said. “I heard about your meeting in the park.”

“Yes. He spoke of how excited he was to get home and show you his sketches. I’m sure you’ll agree he is very talented.”

Christian straightened to stand taller. “Lady Dunfair, is it?” he asked. “Christian Adler, Duke of Richmond. I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced.”

“No.” She cocked her head. “You’ve always been too busy bloviating for us to have the chance.”

Christian felt his face heat. “Yes, because you have always been acting presumptuously with my son. It is not your place to decide how I raise my child.”

“I mean no presumption, Your Grace, only to suggest that you look beyond the ways you believe he should behave, and see the spirit and life of the boy! Luke is a wonderful child, from our few meetings. If you worried more about what Luke wanted, and less about your own public perception, then perhaps?—”

“You are out of line, Lady Dunfair,” he hissed, all but forgetting everything around them as he took a step closer. “Since the first time we met, I have known you only to be the most meddlesome woman. If we weren’t in public, I would?—”

“What? What would you do?” she asked, an unfairly charming twinkle in her eye.

“I would give you a piece of my mind, using language unfit for the ears of ladies and children.”