Page 21 of A Duke in Her Fate
“How lovely! It’s a brilliant day for an outing. Hyde Park, I suppose? It shouldn’t be too crowded at this hour,” her mother added helpfully. “Is that where you will be, Your Grace?”
He hesitated before nodding. “Yes, Mrs. MacLaren. That is where we shall go.”
“Och. Ah. Well…” Her gaze shifted, eyes a little too wide, between the two of them before she finally nodded to Isla. There was a request in that expression that Isla couldn’t read. “Go on, then. Do have a pleasant time, yes?”
“Certainly, Mother,” Isla murmured.
She took the shawl her mother recommended, and the bonnet, and then followed the duke outside. It only took a moment to reach the street to find there was no vehicle for them. Noting the horse he unhooked from the gate, she glanced about.
“Are we walking?”
“It’s a fine day, is it not?” He lowered his gaze to eye her feet, most likely noticing the sturdy boots. “I know your feet work.”
She nodded. “They do, only I thought we might go for a ride. Do you have curricle?”
“No. You’ll have a carriage soon enough. It’ll be your wedding present. Would you like to take my arm?”
Without giving her a chance to let her mouth drop open, the gentleman was guiding her to the end of the street. Isla wasn’t certain she had even given him her hand. But somehow she was holding onto his arm now as they crossed, his horse following at his other shoulder.
“There is no need to give me one of your carriages,” Isla hissed. Her gaze darted about the lane. Her mother had managed to rent a fine little townhouse just on the edge of Mayfair where it was still fashionable. That meant eyes were surely already on them. Forcing a tight smile, she added, “I can walk just fine through London or take myself a hackney.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. A duchess would never use a hackney. And if you are to be my wife, then I fully expect you to be secured in your travels without having to worry about your well-being.”
That’s unusually thoughtful.
Peering up at him in confusion, Isla wondered if she was misreading the duke. He was rather difficult to sort out most of the time.
If he offered his opinion, he was honest and precise. He expected her to agree with it, too, like roasted broccoli being the ideal form of vegetable. Then he asked her questions without offering his own answers. The only times she could tell he did have a varying opinion then was in his targeted questions that left her feeling dizzy by the end.
Or maybe that had been the dancing. He was a most excellent dancer and lead. I wonder if he will still dance once we are wed… No, if we wed. There is no guarantee of that now. There won’t be. This is probably some sort of game he’s built with his friends. If he has any of those.
“Very well. That is very considerate of you. A fine gift. I’m afraid I haven’t considered anything for you at this time. Is there anything you would like as a wedding gift?” Isla offered.
His brow lifted a smidgeon like he was surprised. “I don’t have need of anything.”
“That doesn’t dismiss a desire to exchange gifts,” she reasoned. “It is tradition, is it not? I could, perhaps, embroider something for you?”
“Or perhaps you can perform a song of my choosing.”
There’s one of his decisions. And a better one, because my embroidery is absolutely awful. Except I haven’t practiced on my harp in some time.
“I shall find myself a harp or could very well sing for you,” Isla reassured him, secretly glad she wouldn’t have to worry about a financial gift for the duke.
He led them across the lane once more to guide them into the park before he answered. “I’ll have a harp ready for you. You can practice to your heart’s content before you present to me. I’ll even provide the sheet music.”
“Should I prepare two songs for you? I should think the harp is another gift. And perhaps the sheet music a third,” Isla noted, biting her tongue to hold back a grin.
The way his face spasmed nearly made her laugh. But she reined in the urge, giving him her most innocent expression, while he attempted to understand if she was mocking him.
“That… will not be necessary.”
Turning away when she couldn’t resist the urge any longer, Isla murmured, “If you insist.”
He grunted. The two of them carried on for a short while in the quiet peaceful day. It was warm for March, with the sun shining and people scattered all about. Eventually, the pathways would grow crowded as everyone came to stroll and picnic and gossip with one another at the fashionable hour.
Just as Isla wondered if he might wish to linger that long, she noted him neatly tugging her off toward a quieter side path that allowed them to avoid a particular party of three women and two gentlemen. The strangers looked prepared to greet them but were stalled with the duke’s actions.
We’re not here to chatter, then, I see.
