Page 21 of If the Duke Demands

She’d been to Lincoln when she was fourteen, on a trip with Uncle Hamish to settle a tax issue, but even that city with its great cathedral and castle was barely a village in comparison to London, with all its houses and large buildings, the crush of carriages and horses in the streets, the bustling pedestrians, and bobbing boats on the river. The city pulsed with excitement and energy, and she could hardly believe that she was finally here.London!Her heart sang with it all.

A glance at Robert’s tired face as he waited on the edge of his seat for the footman to open the carriage door told her that he did not share her excitement.

But then, nothing during the trip from Lincolnshire had seemed to catch his imagination. He’d been more caught up in the drudgery of the travel than the excitement of it. So after a few attempts at conversation with him that led nowhere, and certainly not to any kind of intimate tête-à-tête that would indicate that he’d actually noticed her, she’d given up and spent her time staring out the window at the passing scenery.

Of course, he also had only his mother and her for company, so she couldn’t blame him too much for wanting to sleep away the hours. Sebastian and Quinton had gone down to London a week before, leaving Robert to accompany the ladies. Miranda suspected he wasn’t happy about being trapped in a carriage for four days with the two women, although she was secretly thrilled to have so much time in his company. And more grateful to Sebastian than she wanted to admit for arranging this time with his brother.

The footman opened the door and moved aside with a shallow bow.

Blowing out a weary breath, Robert stepped to the ground and turned back to offer his hand. “Mother.”

The duchess placed her hand into his, and he helped her from the carriage, across the footpath, and up the marble steps to the front portico.

Unable to tamp down her enthusiasm and wait for him to return for her, Miranda hurried to her feet and stuck her head out the open door to stare up at the house. Oh, it was grand! And so beautiful. Mesmerized by the splendor of the façade, her eyes trailing from tall window to window, she moved down onto the step—

And missed.

With a soft gasp of surprise, she tumbled forward off-balance toward the ground.

Strong arms swept around her and caught her, lifting her gracefully and placing her gently onto the footpath.

With her view blocked by her new bonnet, she couldn’t see the hero behind her who had rescued her, but it must have been Robert. Oh, it simplyhadto be! Her heart raced with equal amounts happiness and embarrassment that she’d fallen into his arms, although…should she feign a faint just to remain there a while longer?

Then she saw Robert on the portico, still at his mother’s side, and her heart sank. So it wasn’t Robert who had rushed to her rescue after all. It must have been the footman, then, who had been kind enough to save her, except that the man had already moved to the back of the coach to help with the luggage. Which meant…

Oh no.

“Already causing problems, Lady Rose?” a familiar voice whispered teasingly at her ear. “And with your first footstep in London, no less.”

Sebastian.

Ignoring the odd flutter he stirred low in her belly, she rolled her eyes, mortified that he of all people should be the one who saw her stumble. She muttered, “At least now I know why they call themslippers.”

He laughed. The soft sound rumbled into her back and made her heart race just as fast as before, although this time with equal parts embarrassment and…well, something else that she didn’t dare admit to.

As he carefully righted her and set her away from him, Miranda was suddenly very conscious of the duchess’s eyes on them, watching them curiously. But Sebastian didn’t seem to notice as he smiled and formally greeted her with an incline of his head. “Welcome to Park Place, Miss Hodgkins.”

She curtsied with a smile, grateful for his kindness even though it came with a great deal of teasing. “Your Grace.”

With a signal to the footmen hurrying from the house to attend to the carriage, he took her arm as if she were a true guest to the house rather than the country girl he was sponsoring for the season. He escorted her inside while his mother and Robert were suddenly caught up in giving directions about sorting the luggage, which pieces should be taken into the house, which left on the carriage.

“Did you have a good trip down?” he asked quietly as he led her through the front foyer with its white marble stairs that wrapped elegantly around the room as they curled toward the landings on the floors above.

“Yes, a lovely time.” Miranda craned her neck. She wanted to stop and gawk openly at the gorgeous house unfolding around her, but she’d already embarrassed herself once by not paying attention to where she was going. If she tripped again in front of him— Oh, she’d simply die! “The countryside was beautiful.”

At that, he gave her a grimacing smile. The two of them were momentarily alone inside the house as he guided her toward the drawing room, and he lowered his mouth close to her ear. “I meant, did you have the chance to speak to Robert alone as you’d hoped?”

Disappointment panged inside her chest. No, it wasn’t at all what she’d hoped. Oh, Robert had been pleasant to her as always and thoroughly doted on the two women whenever they’d stopped at inns along the way. But he’d treated her like a sister under his care rather than a woman he might fall in love with. For heaven’s sake, he even called her by that annoying nickname the boys had given her when she was six…sprite. She cringed at the thought of it.

Unwilling to admit to failure so soon, though, she deflected, “We talked a little in the carriage when he wasn’t sleeping.” Which was most of the time. But Sebastian didn’t need to know that. After all, he’d gone out of his way to make the travel arrangements so that she would be with Robert, and she didn’t want him to know how miserably she’d failed to catch his brother’s attention.

They reached the drawing room. He let her proceed him into the pretty room, decorated in soft creams and blues, silks and brocades, with delicate gilt edging tall mirrors positioned along the walls beside the floor-to-ceiling windows and two large chandeliers floating overhead. It was the most splendid room she’d ever seen, one that left no question about the Duke of Trent’s wealth and position. If she needed a reminder that in London Sebastian was far more than a country estate owner, this room declared it in spades.

“What did you talk about?” he pressed curiously, catching her attention away from the grand room and the plump cherubs chasing each other across the painted ceiling.

“Fishing.” She smiled innocently, fluttering her eyelashes.

He drew up short, his eyes widening in surprise. “Fishing?”