The Shy Duchess. Amanda McCabe

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СКАЧАТЬ puzzled something out. “Shall we all walk for a bit? I feel in need of some exercise.”

      Emily nodded eagerly. Perhaps if they were walking, in the midst of the crowd, she could more easily avoid Mr Rayburn’s steady hazel stare. He did always seem to watch her, expect something from her when she could not fathom what it was. She only knew it made her feel fidgety, uncomfortable—and not in the same way the Duke of Manning did.

      They left the carriage and set out along one of the pedestrian pathways. Emily loved coming to the park in the mornings, when the walkways were sparsely filled with nannies out with their charges and footmen walking the employers’ dogs. She loved watching the children with their hoops and dolls, enjoying the light and fresh air, the freedom. It made her yearn for the day when she would have a child of her own to walk with in the park, to love and nurture. But the park was such a very different place late in the afternoon, when it was taken over by stylishly dressed society figures, intent on seeing and being seen.

      A couple, laughing raucously together, brushed past, jostling Emily. She stumbled, and Mr Rayburn caught her arm in a hard grasp.

      “Are you quite all right, Lady Emily?” he asked.

      “Oh, yes, thank you,” Emily said. She tried to ease her arm away, but he held on, leading her along the pathway to a more open spot.

      “It is shockingly crowded today,” Jane declared, quite as if it wasn’t exactly this crowded every day. “How fortunate we have you to protect us, Mr Rayburn.”

      “And how fortunate I am to escort two such lovely ladies. I’m the envy of every man here,” Mr Rayburn answered with a charming smile. “Now, Miss Thornton, Lady Emily, perhaps you could tell me all I missed while I was sadly away from town. Was Lady Orman’s as great a crush as everyone predicted?”

      “Oh, even more so!” Jane said. “One could scarcely even move without being trod upon.”

      As her friend chattered on about the ball, Emily half-listened, her mind drifting away from the gossip, the crowded park, even from Mr Rayburn’s clasp still on her arm. She thought of next week’s planned lesson at Mrs Goddard’s, her favourite pupil Sally who showed such promise and how well they were all progressing. They needed more challenging material in their lessons to keep up with them. Perhaps she could teach them a bit of Italian? Some of them might even be able to go for governesses soon.

      She was so distracted by her plans she didn’t notice the tree root in her path until she tripped right over it.

      “Oh!” she cried, as pain shot through her thin halfboot and up her foot. Mr Rayburn’s hand tightened on her arm, holding her upright yet again. “Thank you, Mr Rayburn. You are very kind.”

      “It is entirely my pleasure, Lady Emily,” he said hoarsely, staring into her eyes. “You do seem to need someone to look after you.”

      A sudden jolt of anger sizzled through her, and she finally shook her arm free of his touch. That was exactly what she did not want any longer, people always telling her where to go and what to do! “Looking after” always seemed to mean “telling what to do”. She never got to do what she wanted, or to make up her own mind about anything.

      “Thank you for your assistance, Mr Rayburn. I am very well now.” Emily hurried ahead of Jane and Mr Rayburn, not knowing where she was going, only that she had to get away and shake free of that sudden, unaccountable anger. It made her feel ridiculously out of control.

      She found herself near the Serpentine, its banks lined with yet more people, laughing, talking, seemingly so very pleasant and light-hearted. Underneath, though, Emily knew they were always watching, always— judging.

      She walked on at a slower pace, making herself smile politely. Jane and Mr Rayburn followed her, still chattering together about that blasted ball.

      In the distance, just at the edge of the clearing near the river, Emily glimpsed the Duke of Manning himself, seated on a white horse that contrasted dramatically with his well-cut dark blue coat and fine doeskin breeches. She stopped short, nearly tripping yet again as she stared in sudden dazzlement.

      She just couldn’t seem to help herself. It was as if all the light of the day gathered directly on him, and he was all shimmering gold.

      She remembered myths of Apollo, called “Ever Bright” by the Muses, and she was sure this was what they meant. Despite the swirling crowds, he appeared to be alone in a glowing pool of serenity and light. He wore no hat, and his golden hair was windblown, falling over his brow and the collar of his fine coat. He held the reins lightly in one gloved hand, answering greetings with a faint smile on his face.

      It was almost as if he was bemused to find himself in such a cacophonous scene.

      “Whatever is Manning doing here?” she heard Mr Rayburn say behind her. “No one in his family ever deigns to come among the crowds here.”

      Emily could not blame him for that. If she was a duchess, she would never do what she didn’t want to, either. But why was he here? She had never seen him in the park before.

      “Should we say hello to him?” Jane asked. She sounded uncharacteristically indecisive. Jane always seemed to know exactly what she should do.

      “And stand in line with everyone else eager to pay court? I don’t think so,” Mr Rayburn said dismissively. He took Jane’s arm and the two of them turned away. “I thought we were going to walk. Lady Emily?”

      “Yes, of course,” Emily said. She started to turn away, as well, to follow them back down the path. To her astonishment, though, the duke caught sight of her and smiled.

      He tugged on his horse’s reins and headed straight toward her.

      “My goodness ! The Duke of Manning is coming here,” Jane cried.

      “So he is,” Mr Rayburn muttered. Emily looked back at him just in time to catch a glimpse of a frown on his face, before it was covered in his usual sociable, practised smile. It seemed perhaps he did not much care for the Duke of Manning.

      Emily wondered if he knew something the rest of society did not. Otherwise she could not account for such a reaction. What could it be?

      “I think—oh, my!” Jane said. “I think he means to talk to us.”

      And indeed he did. He reined in his horse right next to Emily and politely nodded to her, smiling. “Good afternoon, Lady Emily. I trust you have recovered from the dreadful crush of the Orman ball?” he said. His smile widened, more of a grin really, wide and white and full of gentle, teasing humour. As if they shared some secret, as if he remembered all too well when she slipped on the stairs and fell into his arms.

      A hot blush touched her cheeks, and she ducked her head to try to hide under her bonnet’s straw brim. “I am quite recovered, thank you, your Grace,” she said with a curtsy. “Though I am definitely enjoying the fresh air today much more!”

      He laughed, and shifted easily in his saddle, as if he was born on horseback. He looked so right there, Emily thought, comfortable and elegantly powerful, while she was terrified of the huge beasts.

      Horses, of course—not dukes. Though she was also rather terrified of him, when he looked at her so intently, as if he was seeing her for the first time. It was a very different sort of terror than that she felt when Mr Lofton grabbed her in СКАЧАТЬ