Page 37 of Duke of Pride

“It seems that I owe you my life,” she said, still not pushing him away.

Her light, teasing tone made his limbs relax. She was fine, her usual insufferable self.

He breathed deeply and scoffed. “I will be collecting on that.”

They were still locked in an embrace, and only then did they notice that people were staring.

He pulled away and straightened his back. “Let’s go have lunch, Victoria.”

“Oh, one lifesaving move and you drop the honorifics in public,” she joked.

He leaned in mischievously. “I recall that we dropped the honorifics before.”

She refused to respond to that and followed him to a pub.

Stephen was almost giddy as he guided them to Piccadilly. He led them to The White Horse Cellar, through the private entrance, the one where a liveried attendant bowed deeply at the sight of him. Swiftly and discreetly, they were led to a private room.

“Don’t you think this is a bit much?” Victoria asked the moment they entered.

“We are merely eating,” Stephen pointed out.

“Exactly.Justeating.”

“Like I said, Miss Victoria, I am committed to finding you a husband. It’s better to avoid whispers.”

“I am too hungry to argue,” she deadpanned.

“That was the plan,” he said dryly.

The room was quiet, but not uncomfortably so. The low murmur of the city beneath their feet felt like a distant hum, and they just tucked into their food, not out of animosity but because they were famished and the food was so good. It was surprisingly nice.

Of course, she had to ruin it.

“I have been checking the clock,” she commented. “It has to be some record time. You haven’t thrown a subtle—or what at least you think subtle—sharp comment at me.”

“I am on a much-needed break,” Stephen said, feigning nonchalance. “Do not get used to it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. In fact, if Your Grace goes more than two days without making some snarky comment, I would be forced to notify the physician.”

“I do not make snarky comments, My Lady. Only painfully accurate observations.”

“Since we are in London, we should visit top doctors to address that incurable case of delusion you have.”

Stephen tried to smother it, but he chuckled. Not cruelly, not paving the way to a cruel comment, but in genuine mirth. He didn’t know when it happened exactly, but some part of him had started to unwind. The weight he had carried since his father’s death, since the responsibilities of title and duty had taken over his life, that weight had shifted.Shelightened it somehow.

Was Victoria always this luminous? Was her voice always this warm? Were her gestures always so decisive and yet elegant? Were her cheeks always tinted pink? And was her smile always this devastating, too blinding, so heart-stopping?

“I am sure that the clerk at Mortimer’s is still stunned,” she suddenly added, shaking her head.

“I am sure he is. You were fighting me for the French cambric.”

“You were fightingmeover the lilac tablecloths!”

“Was I supposed to allow that offensive shade in my home?” he retorted without heat.

“You are impossible.”

“I am correct. There is a difference.”

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