Font Size:

She shook her head, feeling her skin tingle under his gaze. “I am perfectly warm, thank you, Your Grace. The exertion of running…” Her voice trailed off. She found it difficult to know what to say to this man. The Duke of Seton, he had said. She had heard of him but never yet knowingly laid eyes on him. And she felt sure that she would have remembered him, with those unforgettable blue eyes and his fine, gentlemanly stature. His riding jacket clung to his broad shoulders, and she had to force herself to look away.

“So, Miss Hervey, you are betrothed to this man, then, thisLord H?”

Charlotte sighed. If only it were that simple! If things were finally settled between herself and Lord Harry, there would be no need for all this secrecy. She would not have been in such a panic to reclaim the letter if everything was out in the open.

“Your Grace, I am not,” she replied, aware suddenly of the smallness of her own voice.

“Indeed?” The Duke’s dark eyebrows flew up in astonishment. “And yet he writes to you so familiarly?”

Charlotte felt her cheeks burning. She had half a mind to turn on her heel and leave the Duke standing here in the clearing, with his curious gaze and impertinent questions. But she did not want him to think poorly of her, despite everything. He was a duke, after all.

“Things are not – not yet out in the open between us, Your Grace,” she replied.

He frowned. “But you are courting, surely?”

She shook her head. “He is – he is not ready to make things public.” She felt a flare of anger towards Lord Harry as she said the words out loud. Why would he not declare his intentions publicly? Then all of these problems would go away? But, of course, she knew the answer. The objections of both their families were yet to be overcome. But she did not want to reveal that to the Duke; she felt too ashamed.

His eyes bored into her. He seemed to be trying to work her out.

A burst of panic suddenly surged within her. What if he broke her confidence? He was a total stranger. He owed her nothing. What if he divulged her secret and she and Lord Harry became the subject of ton gossip? She would never live it down, and her stepmother would never let her hear the end of it, either.

“Please, Your Grace, I beg you, do not tell anyone what you have read in the letter!” It gave her no pleasure to have to beg a favor of him, but she felt that she had no choice. All she could do now was pray that he would take pity on her in her sad predicament and ask her no more questions.

“Miss,” he said, his blue eyes sparkling. “It is the very least I can do after I so impertinently invaded your privacy. I pray you will forgive me, and please be assured that your secret is safe with me.” He bowed low, then whistled to the dog. “Be a good dog, now, and go with your mistress.”

Miraculously, Rusty cocked his ears, trotted to Charlotte’s side, and sat obediently at her feet. She could not help but chuckle at the sight of it, this hapless dog who had caused her so much trouble, now tamed by the Duke.

“I thank you, Your Grace,” she said, and dropped a slight curtsy, then turned away. She could feel him watching her as she headed away along the woodland path, back towards her father’s house, with the dog padding along behind her and her precious letter safely stowed away in her pocket. It had been a close call, and she would have to be more careful in the future, lest her secret be revealed to the whole of the ton.

* * *

Luke felt slightly bemused as he watched Miss Hervey leave the clearing, the golden-red hound following her.

He had never met a woman quite like her before, he realized. At every ball and society event he attended, he found himself surrounded by ladies of the ton, both eligible young females seeking husbands and also their mothers, whose sole purpose was to ensure that their daughters married well. And yet, none of these women had captured his fancy. They were all the same. All polite and well-mannered, all demure and modest.

All those endless dinners, tea parties and card games, surrounded by people who could only talk of the weather and the latest gossip of the ton. No one showed their true selves in society. All dissembled, all pretended to be something that they were not.

And then this rush of loveliness had appeared through the woods, lovely despite the fact that she was practically baring her teeth at him in a fury, her long auburn locks escaping from her bonnet and her dark eyes flashing at him. He barely knew what to make of her. She did not hide her feelings, far from it. She expressed her anger so freely, even when she knew that his position in society was considerably above her own. But, then when he questioned her about this mysterious Lord H, something had shifted.

He had seen the look of embarrassment that crossed her face when he asked her about the writer of the letter. Even a lady as unusual as Miss Charlotte Hervey would not be able to deny that the exchange of secret letters with a man to whom she was not engaged, nor even courting, was a source of potential scandal. And what was this Lord H playing at, indeed? To be writing such tender words but concealing his feelings in public, hiding his regard for her? Luke found that he could scarcely stop thinking about it.

He crossed the clearing and clicked his tongue at Bess, whose ears pricked up at his signal. She reluctantly left her grassy feast and stood still while her master mounted her back. He took the reins and turned the horse in the opposite direction to the way Charlotte had headed just a few moments ago. It would not do for her to think that he was following her. Tempting as it was to learn more about this strange lady, he had no wish to unnerve her. He would take a different route home through the woods. As he and Bess picked up their pace into a gentle trot, he wondered whether he would see her again. He found that he hoped he would, and it would be soon.

* * *

Charlotte reached the edge of her father’s estate a little while later. She had tried to allow herself to enjoy the walk home through the woods, but her mind was whirring, and she could not find peace, even as she passed under the canopy of trees, their leaves starting to take on the burnished brown of autumn. The beauty of nature was not enough to calm her, though. Not today, when she had so much on her mind.

She thanked the heavens that she had at least rescued the letter. She vowed to be tidier in the future; this was a lesson that she did not wish to learn again. And that pesky dog, so well-behaved now but so naughty scarcely an hour ago. She would make sure that the beast was kept out of her chambers. She would have to speak to her sister about it again. It was no secret that she and Rusty were not the best of friends, and this was the last straw.

She entered the gardens, looking about her cautiously. She knew that she looked a fright, and she must do everything in her power to stay out of sight of her stepmother if she wanted to avoid an unholy scene.

She heard a gasp from behind her as she rounded the corner nearest to the back door of the house.

“Charlotte! What on earth has happened?”

She whirled around, and her eyes fell on the pretty face of her sister Martha, her eyes wide at the sight of Charlotte’s disheveled appearance.

“Quick, Martha, let’s get inside before someone else sees me!” Charlotte hissed, grabbing her sister’s hand and pulling her through the door and up the back stairs. “I’m glad it was you and not Alison or our stepmother!”