Page 15 of An Unfamiliar Duke

She knew she was walking on dangerous ground. On the one hand, she did not wish to appear ungrateful when a gentleman went out of his way to show her extra consideration. His Grace was making such an effort himself. On the other hand, she needed him to realize that she had done nothing to encourage Mr. Sellers’s attention.

The memory of His Grace’s quick wit when they had danced together flashed into her mind. She seized upon it. Was it possible that the nobleman possessed sufficient good humor to turn this uncomfortable experience around?

“Surely you agree that to take a turn around the park in anything other than a barouche is unfortunate indeed.”

His face registered surprise. He had not expected her teasing. She held her breath, waiting for his response.

“In truth, I would have thought that bringing a posy covers a multitude of sins—including, perhaps, arriving in the wrong vehicle.”

There was a hint of banter in his voice, and Rosalind allowed herself a small smile. “You would think so, would you not?” She placed her hand on his arm again, glad to note that the tension she had felt earlier had lessened. “But violets are no lilies, Your Grace. And lilies are my favorite flowers.”

He chuckled softly and led her toward the door. “Duly noted, Miss Ainsworth.”

Chapter 7

Sebastian did not know what to make of his present, somewhat disconcerting state of mind. When he’d first stepped into the Langtons’ house and seen Mr. Sellers standing so close to his future wife, Sebastian had been pierced with something that felt disturbingly like jealousy. The stab had been as unexpected as it had been unpleasant. He’d noticed the posy in her hand immediately and had mentally berated himself for coming so unprepared.

Mr. Sellers’s antagonism toward him was understandable, especially given how lovely Miss Ainsworth looked today, but Sebastian could not bring himself to feel sorry for the man. Sellers was far too self-assured for his own good.

They reached the Kelbrook barouche carriage, and Sebastian assisted Miss Ainsworth inside. The glossy black phaeton, with its red-upholstered seats, that had been parked in front of the Langtons’ house when Sebastian had arrived was gone. He could admit to some relief that the confrontation with Sellers had not lasted long, but he now had a ride with Miss Ainsworth to navigate. And that was even more daunting.

He entered the carriage. Did she expect him to sit beside or across from her? Wishing he had more experience in these matters, he eyed her wide skirts. The floral fabric covered much of the seat. It seemed that sitting opposite Miss Ainsworth might be preferable to crushing her gown. He felt her gaze as he took his place.

“To the park, if you please, Perkins,” he called.

His driver clicked his tongue, and the carriage moved forward. Miss Ainsworth’s gaze moved to the row of trees lining the road. Their leaves were a glorious mixture of green, yellow, orange, and red. A thrush trilled its song before taking to the air as the carriage rolled by.

Sebastian cleared his throat. “I am glad for the sunshine today. October’s weather is notoriously unpredictable.” It was a banal statement, but at least it broke the silence that had fallen over them.

“Yes. It has been unseasonably warm these last few weeks.”

Lud. Could she not offer him anything more to work with than that? What had happened to her wit?

“I daresay it will be colder by the time we reach Finley Park.”

That caught her attention. She turned from watching the sycamores go by to face him. “You said that you would tell me about Finley Park.”

“I did.” Was that anxiety he saw in her eyes? “What would you like to know?”

She raised her hands. “Everything.”

“That would take an exceptionally long carriage ride.”

“Yes, I suppose it would. Then, tell me whatever you think is most needful for me to know.”

Sebastian pondered that. It was quite likely that Miss Ainsworth’s list of things considered “needful to know” would be very different from a list he would draw up for himself. “The housekeeper’s name is Mrs. Frost. The butler is Vickers.” She nodded. Encouraged, Sebastian continued. “Between the two of them, they manage the house and the staff very well.”

Miss Ainsworth’s hands were now clasped tightly on her knee. “Mrs. Frost. Does she live up to her name?”

“Her name?”

“Is she . . . is she frosty in personality?”

A vision of Mrs. Frost bustling through the rooms at Finley Park entered his head, and he grinned. “Mrs. Frost is a short, plump lady who has been at Finley Park for as long as I can remember. She fusses over me like a mother hen. I would say she errs more toward smothering than frosty.”

To his surprise, rather than smile, Miss Ainsworth caught her lower lip between her teeth. “Does she know that you will be returning home with a wife?”

The question caught him off guard. Blast it all. He’d never even spoken of his marriage contract to Mrs. Frost, let alone the imminence of his wedding.