Page 25 of A Lady's Beastly Duke
Anastasia drew in a breath and grinned, nodding. “I did. The fault was mine...I stopped to look at that pretty dress back there. I wanted to see the fabric it was made from.”
Camilla grinned. “I should have guessed.”
They shared a smile. Anastasia’s tendency to be caught up by things that other people barely noticed—and not to notice things that were obvious—was a constant source of delight and teasing.
“There is the mercer's shop. We must make haste.”
Anastasia nodded. “It’s almost three o’ clock,” she agreed. They had arranged with Camilla’s mother that the coach would return for them at five o’ clock, and that gave them two hours to choose and purchase fabric for Camilla’s new gown, to find a pair of gloves and a bonnet for both of them, and then, perhaps, to stop for tea. They would have to be quick.
They walked briskly down the pavement. The draper’s shop that Camilla liked best was just fifty yards or so away from where they were, and they strode hurriedly down towards it.
“Oh! Observe, a shoemaker’s establishment,” Camilla remarked as they hastened by a window. “Was that in existence previously?”
“I don’t recall,” Anastasia said, feeling a little out-of-breath.
She tensed, thinking that Camilla might stop to look through the window, even though they had no intention of buying shoes.
“Let’s hurry!” Camilla exclaimed. “That’s the bell.”
The church bells rang, revealing the time. It was exactly three o’ clock.
Anastasia let out a louder laugh than she would usually give as they strode down the pavement, trying to be as quick as possible without actually running. Running would be unseemly for young ladies, but the peculiar stride they had adopted to move fast was probably even funnier and more ungainly than running would have been. The thought amused her as she raced ahead.
“We must seem remarkably foolish!” she exclaimed, striding along as fast as she could beside Camilla, who was stepping briskly forward, both of them doing the closest they could safely do to a run.
“Yes! I suppose so!” Camilla agreed, panting with exertion. They were getting closer to the shop and as they walked briskly, a gentleman stepped into the street from an office. Anastasia shrieked and Camilla did likewise.
“Oh!”
Anastasia gaped up at the gentleman, and then her eyes widened in astonishment.
It was the Duke of Willowick.
“Your Grace,” she murmured, swiftly dropping into a curtsey. Beside her, Camilla did likewise. Camilla stared up at the duke, her eyes wide, clearly frightened by his many scars.
“Ladies.” The duke bowed low. He was wearing a black tailcoat, a high-collared white shirt and a simple cravat. His black trousers were spotless, and he wore black riding boots with them, and a black top-hat. He lifted his hat, his expression reserved.
“We were hurrying to the shop. I apologise,” Anastasia said swiftly. He looked upset and she wished that she had avoided almost walking into him.
“We only have two hours,” Camilla agreed. “And we need to buy fabric and hats and gloves. We’re on our way to thedraper’s.”
Anastasia glanced at Camilla, surprised by how flustered she was.
“We didn’t see you,” Anastasia added.
To her surprise, his lips lifted in a smile.
“That was fairly self-evident,” he replied, but his grin took the sarcasm from his words.
Anastasia chuckled. “I suppose so. Unless you assume that we go around running full tilt into fellow shoppers for the fun of it, that is.”
His grin broadened. “Or that. Yes.” He chuckled.
Anastasia glanced sideways at Camilla, who was staring first at her and then at the duke as though they had begun to speak a foreign language.
“May I introduce my friend, Lady Camilla?” Anastasia asked politely. “She is the daughter of Viscount Bramley.”
“Charmed,” the duke said, surprisingly politely. He bowed low.
