Page 28 of The Ambiguous Enigma of the Hunted Lady
“Red grouse, just the same as last year.” Kenneth plucked a biscuit from the wicker basket in the center of the table. “Shall we, Uncle?”
“We shall.” Cornelius beamed, rising from his seat.
“Have fun then.” the Duchess shot back at them as they hurried to exit the dining room.
The two of them stepped out into the August air, letting the second half of summer wash up into their skin. Kenneth knew his uncle was much like him in the sense that the both of them thoroughly enjoyed a beautiful morning.
There was something about the crispness of the air, set just right against the mellow ascent of the blazing sun, that touched Kenneth to his core. It was a fine day for a grouse hunt.
The two of them took horses out into the fields and pressed on, out of sight of the manor. They continued on southward for some distance, lazily nudging the beasts forward until they took up positions in a lightly-wooded area with a view of the shore.
They hitched their horses and began to leisurely stroll with shotguns under arm.
“Smell that air, Nephew.” Cornelius said quietly. “I do love the sea air.”
“Then why do you not live by the sea?” Kenneth grinned at his own quips.
“You know the answer to that.” his uncle scoffed. “It seems I must always attend to something in London. I cannot make sense of living anywhere else.”
“I attend often to matters in London, yet I manage the travel.”
“Of what matters do you attend in London?” Cornelius gave him a wry look.
“The business, same as you!” Kenneth protested. “You cannot say I do not put forth effort.”
“Oh, that is not what I mean to say.” Cornelius crooned, shutting his eyes as he smiled. “I only meant that your activity in London seems somewhat varied, of late.”
“So, you have come to it at last.” Kenneth jeered. “Well done, I suppose.”
“You would rather not discuss it?”
“No, no, I do not mind in the least.” Kenneth waved his hand. “What I do mind is the spirit of Londoners to make every little thing their bloody business.”
“You must think of it this way.” His uncle adjusted his stance, all the while scanning the trees and bushes for red grouse. “There are many people in London, although the group we belong to does not care at all for any of the others. It is the smallest group in the whole of the country, and as a result, the members care only about other members. And they care deeply.”
“They do not care as I care for you or Mother.” Kenneth argued. “But only for who makes a fool out of one's self, and what have you.”
“But this in turn is their way of caring.” Cornelius pointed out. “You should be glad to have any sort of attention paid to you. At least you are recognized.”
“Mother worries that I will never be married, for I scare away the fathers.”
“Ha, it may well be true to an extent.” Cornelius chuckled. “But at the end of it all, you are a Duke, and a dashing one at that.”
“Thank you, Uncle.” Kenneth let out a sigh. “And it is not even that I care much for the prospect of marriage. I could go on doing without it.”
“But your mother and I cannot.” Cornelius winked. “I have no children. You must keep our name and title alive.”
“But isn't there plenty time for it still?”
“Less and less, but yes, you are not out of time.”
“Tell that to my mother.” Kenneth whined.
“So, what happened in the street then? The tabloids have a colorful story, and I should like to hear your side.”
“You believe the papers?”
“Not at all,” Cornelius gawked, clapping the young Duke on the shoulder. “but they do tend to give the mind a leash to run on, don't they?”
