Page 16 of Must Love Dukes
“In the park,” he finished.
“Meat pies,” Father said in disbelief. “Forgive me, Your Grace, but?—”
Todson took a step back, his gaze still locked on Muriel’s hand resting on the duke’s arm.
“Unlikely, I admit.” Buxton laughed in his charming way. “But I happen to enjoy a good meat pie. I often purchase one from the vendors near the park. I was enticed by the scent at one gentleman’s stall and stopped to examine his wares. Miss Bell happened to just be a few feet away, also examining the meat pies. I was taken with her immediately.” He bestowed a besotted look at Muriel. “I offered to purchase her a meat pie. Entirely proper, I assure you. Her maid was mere steps away. But Miss Bell declined my offer.”
“I wasn’t hungry, Your Grace.” He was far better at this than she’d hoped. “You, on the other hand, were starving, as I recall.”
“Walking the park gives one an appetite. So does riding. Managing my estates. I’ve far too many, I think.” He laughed. “I’m always hungry.”
With one sentence, Buxton gently reminded Todson and her parents he was a duke. Not to be questioned. Even if it was only about meat pies.
“The pies, unfortunately, smelled much better than they tasted.”
“The face you made while taking a bite was most amusing, Your Grace.” Muriel babbled, warming to Buxton’s ridiculous tale. It wasn’t entirely untrue. They had met over meat pies. “I’m afraid I didn’t realize at first who His Grace happened to be.”
“Debrett’s. I told you to studyDebrett’s,” Nora whispered under her breath.
“And then you dropped your sketchbook,” Buxton murmured. “Your drawings…such an unusual talent. I confess, I was intrigued.” Buxton gazed down at Muriel as if she were the answer to all of life’s mysteries.
Nora’s eyes bugged in disbelief. “You…appreciatedher drawings?”
“I am something of a student of the Italian renaissance, Lady Allred, mostly for the architecture, but I do have an appreciation for the painters of the time. Arcimboldo has always struck me as a man of great vision.” Turning from the flabbergasted Nora, Buxton said, “Let us take a turn about the room, Miss Bell. With your permission of course, Lord Allred.”
A polite formality. Father would deny Buxton nothing. “You have it, Your Grace.”
Todson cleared his throat, his attention on Muriel waning with Buxton’s arrival. He was already fixated on another young lady a few feet away dressed in a frothy confection of cream and lace.
Any young lady will do for Todson.
“Your Grace.” He bowed to Buxton once more. “I hope to enjoy a brandy with you later. Lord Allred. Lady Allred.” He barely glanced at Muriel. “Miss Bell.”
“My lord, a word,” Father started, both pleased and embarrassed by the turn of events.
“Unnecessary, Allred. If you’ll excuse me.”
Todson strolled away to delight his next victim with his lack of wit and terrible laugh, which had Muriel nearly giddy with relief.
Nora’s look at Muriel as Buxton guided her farther into the drawing room held the promise of an interrogation later. Well, that was fine. She’d suffer it. Just as she would endure the looks of the other guests—most curious, some, like Lady Lavinia, downright murderous. He led her to the painting of a Savorton ancestor, pretending to study the portrait.
“A duke,” Muriel murmured after a few moments. Todson had been banished, at least for now, but she was at a loss as to how to proceed.
Now she could see the wisdom of Buxton requesting a portrait of himself, because no one would think it odd at all, not when Nora informed the other guests that he’d expressed admiration for her sketches. Painting his portrait, given their ‘attachment’ wouldn’t surprise anyone.
“The Duke of Buxton. I honestly thought you’d recognize my name. I didn’t intentionally keep it from you, though, I admit, I like surprises. And as to my appearance here, I believe you only asked if I knew of the Savorton estate.”
“Hmm.” Technically, that much was true, but he could have volunteered the information.
“You realize, Miss Bell…” Buxton’s breath warmed the curve of her ear. “Most ladies wouldn’t find a duke so disagreeable.”
“I am only surprised.” She stared at the field of flowers depicted in the landscape. “Daunting, if you will. I’ve never actually met a duke before.”
“Oh, Miss Bell, please don’t disappoint me by deciding to fawn over me.”
Muriel looked up, marveling at the exquisite features. Not so much as a blemish marred his masculine perfection. “Perish the thought.”
“Splendid. Now, ignore them.” He discreetly indicated the remainder of the guests. “You’ll be the subject of much gossip, speculation, and possibly murder where Lavinia is involved.”
