Page 7

K ynthea and the duke headed outside to mount their horses.

Zoe, naturally, looked resplendent in her blue riding habit, but more important, she looked like the incredible equestrian she was as she quickly seemed to become one with Rumble.

Kynthea, however, knew she looked average in her riding habit, average in her horsemanship, and completely mundane in her demeanor.

Because she was steeped in doubt.

Had she truly risked Zoe’s reputation? She knew it was risqué for a lady like Zoe to work as a stable hand, but the girl truly was horse mad. And she’d been going crazy cooped up. She’d needed a diversion, and this had been relatively harmless. Or so Kynthea had believed.

But she hadn’t considered what a malicious gossip could do with the information. Nor had she believed that someone might use the indiscretion to force a duke into marriage. The idea was ridiculous, and yet, His Grace clearly believed it.

“Don’t look so down,” Lord Nathaniel murmured as he maneuvered his horse close to her. “Ras can be a stickler for propriety, and you caught him off guard. I’m fairly shocked myself that she’d managed to work as a stable hand and he was none the wiser.”

“But is the duke correct?” she pressed. “Could the information be truly damaging?”

“Oh yes, without a doubt.” Then he flashed her a cheeky grin. “But have no fear. She won’t be exposed by me or Ras, and if you two keep mum, then all’s well.”

All would be well if Zoe could keep quiet, and that was not something the girl was good at. Her emotions tended to overflow, and her mouth kept going long before her brain interfered. “I’ll speak with her,” she said, praying that would be enough.

“The Season will keep her busy. And besides, many men like girls with some spunk.” His gaze travelled to where Zoe clearly wanted to go faster.

She was leading their party, oblivious to the fact that she was pulling ahead and would soon lose sight of them in the maze of London streets.

Kynthea was about to call the girl back when a groom rode up beside the girl and gently forced her to slow down.

Clearly the duke had thought of the problem well before Kynthea, but rather than go himself, he sent a groom. Indeed, the man took up the rear of their party as if he wanted to put as much distance as possible between himself and her young charge.

She was just turning back to invite him to ride closer when he spoke, his voice carrying clearly despite the distance.

“What possessed her parents to have her come out so young?”

Well, that was a matter of some delicacy. “The Earl would like to see her settled. Her siblings are much older, married, and well into growing their nurseries. Zoe herself was an unexpected surprise long after they thought they were done with children.”

“That explains why she is young, not why they are pushing her to wed so soon.”

Trust the man to see that she’d sidestepped the question.

“Oh dear,” Lord Nathaniel moaned. “Her dowry isn’t what they say—”

“It is exactly as they have claimed. Land worth a thousand pounds per annum.” A fortune. And if absolutely necessary, a life for Zoe if she never wed.

“It’s not the dowry,” said the duke, his voice low. “It’s the earl, isn’t it? I’ve heard his health is precarious.”

Very .

“And the Countess?” Lord Nathaniel pressed. “She hasn’t been seen much in society these last two years.”

Not at all.

And when both gentlemen noticed that she said nothing, they came to the obvious conclusion.

“Neither is well,” said the duke, “and therefore they wish to see her married before they pass.”

Kynthea looked down at her hands rather than answer.

The truth was that both of Zoe’s parents were sickly.

The earl had a persistent cough, and the countess had joints so swollen, she could barely walk.

They’d both said how Kynthea was a godsend when she’d come to live with them.

She eased their pains and acted as companion to their youngest child.

But when last winter’s cold had settled into the earl’s bones such that he was freezing all the time, he declared it time to see his youngest child married.

He would not wait even one year for his daughters-in-law to complete their confinements.

And so it fell to Kynthea to manage Zoe’s come-out, to chaperone and guide the girl when she herself had never set foot in London until two years ago.

And she’d never been part of high society at all.

Fortunately, they arrived in Rotten Row before she was forced to give more detail than was appropriate.

Having just been chastised for being indiscreet, she would not speak out of turn now.

But she didn’t need to. She could tell by the gentlemen’s expressions that they understood the situation.

And hopefully, they understood how watching her parents prepare for death placed an added strain on Zoe.

They settled into the queue, and Zoe was clearly excited to gallop away on Rumble. Lord Nathaniel took his place behind her, and Zoe flashed him a happy smile. Kynthea, on the other hand, was all too aware of the dashing equestrians around them. She would not show well in comparison.

“How did your parents die?” His Grace asked from her elbow.

She started at the question. It was not that she’d forgotten he was there—far from it. In fact, she seemed hyper aware of his presence and any shift in his expression. It was the question that startled her, as well as his thoughtful tone.

“I apologize,” he said immediately upon seeing her expression. “I do not mean to pry.”

“No, it’s all right. It was a sickness that grabbed hold of their lungs and never released.” It didn’t help that they had little money for coal to heat the house or good food to help them recover.

“You never caught it?”

She shook her head. She’d often wondered about the vagaries of illnesses. “I was ill for a short time but recovered quickly. My parents died within weeks of one another.”

“And your siblings? What of them?”

“I have only an older brother. He was at sea at the time. He is a captain now in the Royal Navy, and I am quite proud of him.”

“And well you should be,” he said. “My father passed suddenly from an accident. He was racing and the horse stumbled, throwing him. We think the fall killed him instantly. At least that’s better than being trampled by the following horses.”

She shuddered as much from the image as the deadpan way he spoke of it. She’d heard that he’d been eleven years old when he inherited the dukedom. What a shock to a young boy on so many levels.

“It must have been terribly hard,” she said.

“It was,” he agreed. “But sometimes I look at parents who age slowly, dying by inches, and I think at least my father went fast.”

Kynthea nodded. “That is a thought we share, Your Grace. I lost my parents in little more than a month, and it felt like a blow to the chest. The pain of it was horrendous.” As were the difficult discussions with creditors and even a very cruel moneylender.

When they were done with her, she had nothing beyond two gowns and a coach ticket to Zoe’s home.

She was lucky her aunt and uncle took her in or she would have been in dire straits indeed.

“But I see Zoe’s heart break every time she tells her parents of her plans.

They talk every day, you know, especially her and her father.

She puts on a brave face, but seeing them so frail cuts her deeply. ”

“And you too, no doubt,” he said. “What will you do after they pass?”

“If I am lucky, Zoe will hire me as her companion or governess to her children.”

“And if you are not?”

She didn’t want to think about it. She’d been saving her coins with the vehemence of a miser.

“Perhaps I will find a husband this season as well,” she said lightly.

She doubted it though. And not because she doubted her worth.

She would be a good wife to any man she married, but it was hard to stand out next to Zoe’s stunning beauty.

And given her lack of dowry, the best she could reasonably hope for was a quiet life in Zoe’s shadow.

The very thought depressed her. She’d grown up blissfully ignorant of the financial pressures on her family.

They lived in the vicarage and had food and clothing.

That was a fortune compared to others in the parish.

She hadn’t known that her father maintained their lifestyle thanks to a moneylender.

And now her poverty stole any hope of what she most wanted: a husband who loved her and children of her own.

She could bring nothing to a marriage contract, and therefore was doomed to the life of a poor relation companion or governess.

And yet, she clung to her dream anyway. “I hope that there is some man who will see my worth beyond my prospects.”

“Assuredly there are,” returned the duke. “But not, I think, in Zoe’s circle. You must look among the merchants.”

There was no cause for him to say it like she was dropping into the sewers. “There are fine men among the lower orders,” she said, her tone sharp.

He glanced down at her, his expression open with surprise.

“Of course, there are. Many better than the ton .” He grimaced.

“But you will never meet them while dancing attendance on Zoe. If you want something different than being a paid companion, you should meet those men while your looks are still striking.”

Good God, did he think she was fading with every breath? “Thank you for your advice, Your Grace.” Her tone implied the exact opposite. “I am not exactly in my dotage, you know. But I shall strive to remain hale enough throughout my time in London so as to attract some of the—”

“I’ve insulted you. I did not mean to. My gravest apologies.”