Page 46 of Duke of Pride

“They’ve survived my absence for three days. I’m sure they’ll manage an afternoon.”

“Ah, so you have been keeping count.” She smirked. “How very attentive of you.”

He finally looked up from his papers and pinned her with a cold look.

As Victoria was lost in the deep blue of his eyes, she realized with dread that there was a deeper reason she was insistent.Shewanted him to join.

“Is there a point to this interruption, or do you simply enjoy the sound of your own voice?” He went back to his usual infuriating self.

“The point,” she said, stepping closer to him, “is that it’s rude for a host to abandon his guests. Even you must know that.”

“You were the one who told me that I was being rude the last time I came.”

“You were glowering at the guests.”

“Lies. I remember I smiled.”

“To Annabelle!”

“So?”

“She is your sister! Yourvery pregnantsister.”

He set his papers aside with deliberate slowness, watching her with that vexingly unreadable expression.

“Your Grace.” She softened her voice. “Your mother misses you.”

“She has her guests.”

“You are her son.”

Stephen let out a long breath.

Victoria hid her smile. He might wish to come across as hard and emotionless, but he was truly trying when it came to his family.

“If I agree to this picnic,” he said, his voice low and measured, “will you cease your relentless campaign to drag me into every foolishness under the sun?”

Victoria tilted her head, considering. Euclid nudged her hand for more petting.

“For today.”

She caught it. Almost a smile.Almost.

He got up, unfolding his strong body and rolling down his sleeves. Victoria involuntarily mourned to see those arms covered, but she decided to focus on Euclid.

“Let’s go,” Stephen grunted.

She looked up. He was offering her his arm. She took it. The gesture was proper, expected, but the heat of him through the fabric, the way his muscles tensed under her fingers, sent a traitorous thrill through her.

“Try to smile,” she whispered as they stepped out into the gardens. “The fresh air won’t kill you.”

“One can never be sure,” he said dryly.

But she caught it. The faint shadow of a smirk. A smile, even.

They walked on the soft grass to the paved path to the lake. Through the canopy, the sun cast playful shadows on his profile.

“Your mood seems improved, Your Grace.”

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