Page 14 of No Duke of Mine

That earned her a laugh from Algernon, and he called up to the coachman that they could depart at his convenience.

Maggie set her travel case at her feet against the wall, as another man joined them inside. The fellow sat opposite the duke on the rear-facing seat and, after setting down a wicker basket, smiled hesitantly at her.

Algernon sighed. “This is my valet, Sims. Our chaperone. Sims, this is Maggie Black. She visited Ravenswood before your time. Please refer to her as my married cousin at all future stops.”

“Mrs. Black,” he said, following the duke’s instructions.

“Mr. Sims,” she replied, a little discomfited by the lie of being a married woman, even if she agreed it was a good idea.

“Maggie, if you require anything along the way, just ask him or me,” Algernon said, reaching for the case the valet had brought with him and opening it.

“I do apologize for your employer’s insistence that I accompany you,” she said to Sims.

The fellow grinned. “There is no stopping a duke when he wants what he wants.”

“Yes, I do recall that bad habit of his from childhood,” she murmured.

“I’m sure everyone complains about it at some point, too,” the valet agreed with a soft laugh.

While a servant probably should not have made fun of his employer, Maggie could tell that the fellow held Algernon in great affection, and indeed, the reverse seemed true as well, because Algernon did not chide Sims for the impertinent remark.

Sims pulled out a slim volume and a lead pencil from within his coat and listened to the duke while making some quick notes inside the pages, before putting it away again. The pair spoke of the road ahead and some other business matters as they got underway, and then the valet was given leave to amuse himself.

Algernon, once the carriage started to gain speed, braced himself with one foot across the door, the other knee edged toward her, leaving Maggie still with a good amount of space on the right side of the carriage. She appreciated the leg room after yesterday’s cramped journey, squashed between her fellow travelers and the leaking door.

Algernon sighed loudly as they passed the next river crossing without incident. “I never thought we would win free.”

“You make it sound like you were held prisoner there,” Maggie noted. “It was not a bad place.”

“Did you eat dinner at all last night? I recall a certain young girl as little impressed with stew as I have always been.”

She smiled slightly, having enjoyed the evening meal last night simply because someone else had done the cooking. “I am sorry dinner was not to your liking, Your Grace. Perhaps if you used your title, the service and quality offered at inns would improve.”

“Your company last night would have made up for any disappointment in the meal,” he promised. “The private dining room did feel rather full—and certainly I had no friend by my side to entertain me.”

“A pity you could not carry a book in to dinner. But people tend to find it rude when you read at the dining table,” she noted.

“I can’t imagine why,” Algernon said, but his grin suggested otherwise.

“The second-to-next town should provide an opportunity to purchase books, Your Grace,” the valet promised.

“Well, there you have it. Sims will find books for us both after we have eaten luncheon,” Algernon announced, glancing down at the wicker basket at their feet.

“Sims does not have to purchase anything for me,” she said. But Algernon’s glance at the picnic basket and mention of luncheon made her stomach rumble in anticipation of their next stop.

Thankfully, no one heard.

“It would be my pleasure to be of assistance, Mrs. Black. It is part of my duties to keep the duke amused at all times,” Sims confessed, with another smirk for his employer. “And every member of his family, too.”

“Indeed, it is his job,” Ravenswood agreed. “And if Mrs. Black is happy, then I shall surely be too, though perhaps she would like to choose her own books?”

“An excellent idea, Your Grace,” Sims answered. The valet settled back with his head against the squabs, smiling, and closed his eyes.

Within a few minutes, the fellow seemed to be sleeping.

Maggie leaned toward the duke, raising a brow and glancing at the valet. “I can never sleep traveling backward.”

“It is a skill,” he said. “Sims is available to me day and night, so he catches his sleep when he can, and I never complain about his lack of conversation. He’s an exceptional servant.”