Page 18 of When her Duke Returns
Harry made to stand.
“Stop!” she begged through desperate cries, pulling Harry back down and holding him there. “Don’t, Harry, please!”
“I won’t, Mary! I swear,” He promised her and then immediately after cried, “Redgrave! Over here!” With a wave, no less, he beckoned the man over.
“Oh, Harry! You’re just awful! We could have snuck away!” Mary lowered her head as she began to wipe her eyes to remove any remnants of her outburst. “You have really done it now! Antony is going to hang me for this, youknowthat. Youknowwhat he said, and I—”
“Calm yourself, Mary! Antony doesn’t have the backbone, and he knows he’ll have to go throughmefirst.”
Harry dragged his sister off the bench and continued his waving. In a matter of minutes, the two parties had convened on the edge of the water, halfway between their bench and what Mary could only assume was the Duke’s makeshift fishing post.
He was dressed in an untucked, billowing shirt, his long trousers rolled up at the knees to stop them from getting wet. He looked no more a Duke at that moment than a common farmer, and Mary could not help but stare. Redgrave beamed as he caught sight of the two of them, and it made her flutter with anxiety.
“What are the chances?” Harry spoke first, extending an arm to the man. “It’s good to see you, Redgrave. Fishing, are we?”
“What else?” the Duke agreed with a smile and introduced his two associates, who looked on from a distance. “I fear I couldn’t let such a beautiful day go by unattended though perhaps Brinkley Park is not quite suited to our piscatory needs. The country spoils one in this regard.”He directed his gaze to Mary, then. “How have you been, My Lady?”
Mary felt her mouth dry up. “Just splendid, Your Grace. Perfectly good and fine and, well yes, splendid. And it’s really… It’s quite warm today, is it not?” She knew she would chastise herself forthatlater.
The man smiled. He was clearly amused by her disquieted rambling but chose not the pester her further. “Yes, I… It is.” He turned to Harry, then, and Mary felt a pang of jealousy surge in her heart. The Duke pressed his lips together and squinted. Mary knew that expression would only lead to trouble. “What has brought the two of you to London? I was under the impression you were to stay at Summerhead for the season?”
“A bit of shopping with our mother, and then, back down we go,” Harry replied.
“You are staying the night, then, at Hatton House?”
“We are though no longer than that. Express orders.”
“Well, this is quite lucky indeed! We’re hosting a dinner tonight at the manor. A small affair, really, but you’d be most welcome to come along.”
“How about that, Mary?” Harry asked with a glint of mischief in his eye. “A dinner with the Duke! We enjoy food and good company, do we not? Besides, I cannot for the life of me…” he continued through a half-laugh, “…think of asinglereason we should not go. Can you, dear sister?”Mary wouldmurderhim. He would never outlive her wrath.
She thought on her feet and took up a new bout of rambling. “We have another engagement, Harry. Though perhaps you have forgotten.”
“With whom, sister? I fear I cannot remember.”
“With the…” Mary’s mind went blank, and she felt the weight of the Duke’s gaze upon her. “The… Ponds,” she summoned from whatever wit she had left, and she watched as Harry shook his head in disapproval.
“Well, if you have other plans—”
“Oh, don’t listen to Mary,” Harry interjected. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about at the best of times. We have no plans; she’s mistaken.”
“Right, well,” the Duke said through a laugh, “be there are seven!” He shot one more look at a blushing Mary before turning on his heels and rejoining his friends.
“Perhaps,” Harry said as they watched him walk away, “your luck is not so terrible as you might think.”
ChapterEight
“Ireally am quite cross with you,” Mary said to Harry as she watched the city crawl by from the coach window.
“Hm?” he murmured, feigning innocence as he had done all afternoon. “Are you speaking to me?”
Mary sighed and straightened out her long skirts. “Heaven forbid; you can be so vicious when you set your mind to it, Harry… But this is beyond anything I could have imagined.”
Harry laughed. “You did not have to come with me, Mary. You had ample chance to send a messenger and excuse yourself, but you did not.” At that, he shimmied closer to her and took her trembling hand in his. “Come now, it will be fun! I can’t remember the last time we dined with the Rowes, and the Duchess does like me so.”
Mary was not so taken with the older Rowe women as Harry. In fact, she was rather nervous about their reuniting. After all, Elara Rowe was one of the most well-connected women in all of London with a reputation worth more than some entire families. Mary knew without a doubt that Elara would be privy to the rumors surrounding her grandson whether she let the fact be known or not.
They arrived outside the manor just before nightfall. Harry was dressed in a fine dark dinner suit while she sported a new evening gown of crimson muslin. Honora had gone to great pains to make sure she looked as ravishing as possible—indeed, Mary needed to keep up appearances. With a confident knock, Harry alerted the manor to their presence, and within minutes, Mary found herself back inside the house that was once to have been hers.
