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“I lost money at cards. Is that not enough? I already know you participated in the gossip, so you know I am not exactly flush with money.” He raised his eyebrows at her.
“Look at that, you are able to make a joke. Even if it is a dry one.” Ophelia smiled, quite impressed at the change in him. “Here, give me your hand so I can help you up.”
“Why? This day is so awful that finishing it here in the mud sounds like a rather good idea,” he countered, refusing to move.
“It also sounds like a worse way to end it. I don’t imagine the Thames makes for a good quilt when the tide rises.” She gestured to the water behind him. The duke looked to the water, then scrambled forward, trying to stand. She offered her hand and he took it, trying to steady himself.
Ophelia was doing her best not to think of what holding his hand and being so near to him did to her. There was something about the duke that was different from any other gentleman she had met. This conversation between them was argumentative, but it was rather fun, too, and judging by the way he fought a smile as he stood straight, he was enjoying it as well.
“Why are you out here at this time of night?” he asked.
Ophelia was distracted; hearing voices above them and fearful of being seen, she pushed him against the riverbank wall.
“Erm, ow,” he said drily, wincing as he stood there with her in front of him. “I’ve been beaten up and thrown in the water already, you know.”
“I was saving you from discovery,” she whispered in a rush, “now lower your voice.”
Angling her head upward, she tried to keep them in the shadows, cautious of who was looking for them. If someone had pushed the duke in the water, she didn’t want them coming back to finish the job.
“You still haven’t explained to me why you’re out here?” the duke said, far too loudly for comfort.
“Shh.” Without thinking, Ophelia placed her hand over his mouth, stopping him from talking. He made a mumbled sound against her lips but soon fell quiet. His dark brows were furrowed so deeply together, she figured this man as a duke had probably never had anyone behave in such a way to him before.
The truth of it made Ophelia really quite nervous, feeling a heat creeping up her body. She had betrayed many rules of propriety in these passing few minutes, but she had done it all with ease. That intense stare of his wasn’t helping the heat, and neither was how close they were standing together, in the shadows beside the wall.
“I went for a ride,” she explained quietly, deciding to answer his question as she waited for the people above, who were searching after the commotion, to move on. The duke raised one quizzical eyebrow, showing he didn’t believe her. Unsure why she felt like telling the truth, she let the words fall from her lips.
“My stepmother is trying to marry me off to her nephew. I do not wish to be married to him. I needed to escape the house, just to think.”
The duke’s eyebrow lowered a little, as if stunned she had spoken at all.
“Wondering why I told you my secret?” To her question, he nodded, ever so slightly. “Well, as you rightly noticed before, I talked of your secrets and listened to the gossip about you. It seems only fair if you know one of my secrets too, does it not?”
A hand came up to hers. Slowly, the duke peeled her hand off his lips and he bent forward a little, pulling his head off the wall behind him.
“Who are you?” he asked.
Ophelia blinked, realising she had not yet uttered her name to him. “Ophelia. Miss Ophelia Townsend,” she explained, waiting as he watched her.
He smiled a little, just a flicker before it was gone. “Well, Miss Townsend. Surely you see how wrong it was for you to have left your house at this time of night.”
“I beg your pardon?” Ophelia asked in amazement.
“Unescorted? Travelling in this part of town through Covent Garden? Think of the cheats, think of the thieves. You should not have done it. It is not safe.”
“I thought you would be a little pleased,” she pointed out. “If I hadn’t ventured out, you may not have been able to find your way out of that water.”
“I would have sobered up sooner or later. Cold water has a habit of doing that to you.” His voice was growing louder again. Fearful of drawing attention, Ophelia turned her head up, looking to the top of the wall.
She saw a few shadows moving. They evidently thought the voices were coming from the water, for the shadows kept pointing out into the river.
“Shh,” Ophelia pleaded with the duke.
“You have a habit of telling me to be quiet,” he pointed out hurriedly.
“Do you wish to be discovered by the cheat that pushed you in here?” She waved up to the walls above them.
“Right now, I would not be surprised. After the awful day I’ve had, a devil could spring up on this riverbank, swinging its pointy tail. In fact, nothing more could surprise me today—”
