Page 43 of A Fake Courtship with the Duke
But when the dowager cleared her throat, keeping her gaze indirectly on Anne as she pretended to be interested in the scenery of the river, a horrifying thought occurred to Anne. How could they keep up their ruse with the dowager duchess hovering over them? Could they keep their secret from her, or would she realize they were more friends than courtship partners? And what would she do if the latter should occur?
“Miss Huxley, I must say that I had a wonderful time with you at the opera last night,” the duke said suddenly, earning Anne’s frantic attention.
She glanced at the dowager duchess, who was pretending to not listen in. Somehow, that was more unsettling to Anne, since she knew that everyone nearby, even in the other boats beside them, could hear their conversation.
“As did I, Your Grace,” she said softly.
The duke looked at her, and Anne finally fully met his gaze again. There was warmth and reassurance there, but there was also a sparkle of mischief. He gave her a wink, his lips twitching with a smirk that itched to break onto his face. Then, he straightened his back with a dreamy smile on his face.
“I must confess," he said in a low, conspiratorial voice. “I enjoyed every movement of the opera. And yet, every note paled in comparison to your laughter, Miss Huxley.”
Anne's heart skipped a beat, her cheeks flushing with warmth once more. His eyes were magnetic, and she found herself lost in their depths. She searched them for signs of sincerity, or sanity, for saying such a bold thing in front of his clearly disapproving mother. But he merely winked at her again, giving her a small nod indicating that he had meant what he said.
“You are too kind, Your Grace,” she said, her joy rising once more, despite the sudden tension in the dowager’s body.
The boat ride to Vauxhall seemed to have Susan utterly enthralled. Her eyes danced with delight as she opened her arms wide, gesturing to the entire scene before her.
“Isn’t this just wonderful?” she gushed, gazing around dreamily at the water, the other boats, and the glimmer of the lanterns that were just becoming visible on the other bank of the river. “It’s positively romantic. It feels like something from a storybook. I could never have imagined how beautiful the river could be.”
Anne giggled, looking at her friend with love. She was reminded of why Susan and she were so close. She found joy in the simple things, and she was just as spirited as Anne in many ways. It brought Anne joy to see her friend so happy. But she couldn’t help stealing a glance from the corner of her vision at the duke, who was surprisingly looking right at her, rather than at his sister.
“Just wait until we reach the Gardens, Sister,” he said, still not looking away from Anne.
Susan squealed softly, earning her a disapproving look from the dowager. The duchess cast Anne a brief, nasty glance, and the message was clear. She believed that Anne was a bad influence on her daughter, never considering that Susan simply had a childlike joy for life, and that she enjoyed expressing it.The glare was cold. But Anne remained resolved to enjoy the evening, if only for the sake of her friend’s birthday.
“It's positively enchanting, to be sure,” Anne said, giving her friend a warm, bright smile, deliberately ignoring the duchess’s attitude. “It’s like a special pocket of magic, right here in London.”
Susan nodded, and Anne felt sure she had never seen such a smile on her friend’s face.
“It is like a dream,” she said. “I will cherish this day for the rest of my life.”
Anne nodded, allowing herself to take in more of the serene beauty around them. Susan had chosen the word ‘romantic’ to describe their surroundings and the atmosphere. She had to admit to herself that she agreed with her friend. There was something that inspired every positive feeling that one could experience all at once. And as she cast another glance at the duke, Anne realized that Vauxhall Gardens was a renowned spot for couples. Even though they were there to celebrate Susan’s birthday, there was a spark flying between herself and the Duke of Calder that seemingly would not let itself be ignored. It was the definition of elating, and Anne shivered with delight.
But even amidst those moments of bliss, and no matter how hard she tried, Anne couldn't escape the dowager’s judgmental glares, which were constantly serving as stinging reminders of the criticisms Anne regularly endured. The thought she’d had before Susan began gushing about how amazing the boat ride and Vauxhall Gardens was returned. Only this time, it was like a sense of pure foreboding, as if by merely thinking it again, she was breathing life into it and bringing it about. There was every chance that the dowager duchess would find out that Richard and she were only faking their would-be courtship that evening. And the notion was so daunting that Anne could hardly stand to continue contemplating it.
She had shuddered violently before she knew what was happening. She glanced around, hoping no one had noticed. But of course, the duke was looking at her with concern.
“Are you all right?” he asked softly. “Are you getting cold?”
She smiled warmly in response, cursing herself for drawing such attention to herself. If she did not exercise caution, it would be her own conduct that alerted the dowager.
“No, not at all, Your Grace,” she said, doing her best to sound sincere. “It was just a momentary chill. It’s really quite pleasant out this evening.”
The duke smiled at her again, but his eyes still held concern. It was as if, for a moment, he could read her worried thoughts. But eventually, he nodded, looking toward the riverbank, where Vauxhall Gardens was coming into clear view. She held her smile, turning her attention to the scene that was drawing closer to them. But beneath her smile and now forced enthusiasm, her stomach churned with anxiety. What lay at the end of their pretense? Would she still find herself married to her cousin? The idea sent a pang of terror through her, and she had to suppress another shudder. She would rather live the rest of her days as a spinster than to marry Albert. But another, bigger part of her wished that she could, in fact, marry the duke. Had they made a mistake by faking a courtship?
Anne found herself caught in a whirlwind of emotions. She still very much felt the joy of celebrating Susan's birthday. However, the weight of her parents' expectations had returned with her fears about the duchess learning of their ruse, as well as the dowager’s palpable disdain for her. And on top of it all, there was the magnetic pull she felt toward the Duke. Everything swirled together within her, creating a storm that felt ready to erupt. She needed to speak to the duke about what was to happen when they were ready to give up their farce. But how long would she have to wait to do that?
Chapter Twenty-two
The sleekly polished wooden boat, which had glided smoothly across the Thames River, finally came to a gentle stop at the dock on the other side. Richard was a bit disappointed that the boat ride was over. He had felt something as he had interacted with Miss Huxley on the ride over. It had been so intense that he couldn’t help voicing his secret thoughts about the effect her laugh had on him.
More miraculous was the way she had reacted. She had looked momentarily startled and unsure, as though disbelieving him. He couldn’t blame her. They were only supposed to be feigning a courtship, after all. But he had given her his best reassuring look, as well as a scandalous wink. And she had simply smiled sweetly at him, her eyes teeming with joy. Could she be feeling the same thing he was?
The countless lanterns along the dock and riverbank cast a soft, warm glow over the scene, illuminating the lush greenery, while the air reverberated with echoes of faint laughter. The charm of the gardens, which had enthralled his sister, was undeniable. He even admitted, if only to himself, that he agreed with the romantic ambiance present. It was a feeling he was becoming accustomed to of late, and he was coming to enjoy it, as well.
He turned to help the women off the boat, beginning with his mother. The dowager carefully avoided his gaze, but her displeasure was evident in her stiff movements as she stepped away from the boat. Next, he helped Susan, who was looking around at the lanterns and foliage as though under a spell. Miss Huxley was last, and he once again offered her his hand. When their fingers brushed together, as they had when he helpedher board the boat, another shiver rushed down his spine. The electric charge between them was palpable, and in that moment, everything else seemed to fade away. The world beyond the two of them ceased to exist, and Richard found himself locked in a gaze that entranced him within its depths. He found himself getting lost there, and he felt that he had never been happier.
What should have been a fleeting moment stretched into the sweetest, most comfortable eternity. Their eyes held one another’s as though a safety raft in a high tide. He was aware of nothing but the woman before him, her existence consuming his senses. He stood so close to her that he could almost feel her breath on his skin.
