Page 26 of An Innocent Bride for the Duke

“Did you chase him?” breathed Fanny.

“I did indeed. I chased him right out of the house and down the street, although he got away before I could catch him. I was younger then but not so spry as that burglar. It was my London house, not this place, so the uproar had gathered quite a crowd outside by the time I got back to my own front door.”

“You’re like Sir Lancelot,” Fanny giggled now. “Ezra, don’t you think Aunt Beatrice is like a brave knight?”

“Where’s your sword?” the little boy asked his great-aunt, focused more on practicalities than comparisons with any of King Arthur’s legendary knights.

“Back on the wall at our London house where it belongs. I can show you some even older weapons here another day, but none of them have ever been brandished at burglars, to the best of my knowledge. Now, you may both get down from the table and play over in that corner with Fanny’s dolls until your pudding is set out.”

“Bravo, Lady Esher,” remarked the Duke of Northwick, his handsome face creasing into a smile as the children did as they were bid and the adults were left to the conversation. “There are not many ladies who would, or could, have done as you did. I hope you gave that drunken footman his notice too.”

Lady Louisa had been careful not to let her eyes settle on the duke for too long during dinner, having been warned to caution again by her aunt and also having the memory of their oddly exhilarating walk home fresh in her mind. Still, when the duke was conversing with her aunt and the children, it was polite to look at him, wasn’t it? And his face was very pleasing…

She wondered why he had eyes of different colors. Did it run in his family, perhaps? It was an oddity that did not detract from his good looks but rather enhanced them, in Louisa’s view, since it made him unique. There might be many tall, dark handsome noblemen around but none of them looked quite like the Duke of Northwick.

In fact, Louisa was not sure she could recall a single other gentleman of his physical type to mind now. When she imagined a man, her first thought was the duke. Was that strange? Or only because he was there and she was unused to having a man about the house at Rosemere?

“That burglar did look very surprised,” chuckled the silver-haired lady, continuing her narrative. “I dare say he thought an elderly widow would be an easy target but when I saw him at the bottom of that staircase, I saw red. All I could think about was Louisa asleep upstairs. Luckily, I learned fencing with my brothers long ago and I can handle a sword well enough.”

“I remember that Aunt Beatrice was in all the newspapers,” Louisa noted, picking up the story. “You were something of a celebrity that Season and we had so many callers. There were people coming and going all day long.”

“Indeed, we had to come back to Rosemere earlier than planned just to get some peace,” her aunt recalled as the main course was cleared away. “It is always a relief to return to the countryside. I find a tranquillity here that London can never give.”

“I feel the same, Aunt Beatrice,” agreed Louisa. “Once our business in London is done, I am always glad to come home to Rosemere. I could never stay there for a whole Season as many do.”

“You have never done a London Season, Lady Louisa?” inquired the Duke of Northwick, with curiosity in his face and voice. “I thought all young ladies of good family did at least one.”

Louisa shook her head very definitely.

“No, I cannot understand how anyone could spend an entire Season on balls, concerts, plays and so on. It is enough for me to attend a handful of these with my aunt when we’re in London, for her charity work. Oh my, and all the ton’s gossip! That is quite exhausting enough on its own.”

As she spoke, Louisa perceived the duke regarding her with something like astonishment, and across the table, Aunt Beatrice laughed lightly.

“You seem surprised, Your Grace, and I hope you do not think me some selfish widow who schemes to keep my niece with me always,” her aunt told him. “I have offered Louisa the chance of a London Season since she turned eighteen but my niece has always declined. Louisa loves Rosemere and I love Louisa. It is as simple as that.”

“One honest conversation with good people, beneath the open sky at Rosemere is worth a dozen fashionable evenings in London,” Louisa declared with complete sincerity. “You know I would rather be here with you, Aunt Beatrice, than dancing with strangers in London.”

“As much as I can appreciate your love of Rosemere, I feel I must defend London a little, since I have spent so much of my life there,” the Duke of Northwick stepped in now, a smile playing on his lips. “It would be wrong for me to leave our poor capital defenseless.”

“Go on then, Your Grace,” Aunt Beatrice encouraged him. “Let us hear your praise of London too. That is fair, after our praise of our little corner of Cumbria.”

“London is where society’s life goes on, where the political world turns and where fortunes are made. The countryside does well when one is seeking peace, but when one is seeking excitement…”

“I can ride a vigorous horse cross-country if I want excitement,” Louisa objected. “I need not go to London to find it.”

At this, the duke laughed, and Louisa found herself suddenly infuriated by him all over again.

How does he always provoke such extremes of emotion in me?!

“Are you laughing at me, Your Grace?” Louisa demanded, and he shook his head.

“Certainly not, Lady Louisa. I would never laugh at you. You are quite charming and likely right in speaking of the best mode of life for yourself and your aunt. However, there are other ladies and gentlemen for whom London is the right setting. I laughed because I was thinking of those others, not because I was thinking of you.”

“Oh, of course. Forgive me,” she mumbled, realizing that she may have both presumed and overstepped.

Why should Louisa assume that the Duke of Northwick was thinking of her? As Aunt Beatrice had pointed out, their acquaintance was only of short duration and she was hardly likely to be the center of his world. Not that she would even want to be…

Louisa looked across at her aunt, hoping for guidance or at least understanding, but Lady Esher appeared unaware of any minor transgression from her niece. She was only listening to the duke with an amused expression as he continued to make his case for London. Perhaps neither the duke nor her aunt had noticed any misstep in her words after all.