“Nothing slips by you,” she said in obvious admiration as they strolled along the harbor walk.
“That’s part of my training, especially now that I am a duke. One needs to be alert to those hanging about on the edges.”
He paused to give her a soft kiss on the cheek.
“Part of the pretense,” she said with a nod. “That ought to throw Attila the Hun in skirts off and have her believe we are a couple in love, out enjoying a pleasant day in the company of my aunt.”
“I kissed you because your cheek is soft and I wanted to kiss you. No ulterior motive. She can think whatever she likes.”
Florence blushed. “I have no idea why you like me, but thank goodness you do. Would you care to kiss me again?”
“Yes, desperately.” He cast her a smoldering look. “But not here and now. Attila is not the only one watching us. I’ll give you a proper kiss tonight before you retire to bed.”
“Who else is watching us?”
“Oh, anyone looking to make a few shillings and eager to sell a story to the gossip rags about the Duke of Weymouth and the beautiful bit of fluff he was seen kissing by the harbor.” He gave herchin a light tweak. “I wrote to my mother and sister yesterday about us, just letting them know we were betrothed. No wedding date set yet, and I would let them know more when I saw them in London later this month. I won’t press you to write to your parents, but it is something you ought to do.”
He realized bringing them up had been a mistake when he saw the immediate shift in Florence’s expression.
Blast.
That was stupid of him. He ought to have left the matter alone.
Florence did not need to have anything to do with them. He would ask Hermia to attend to the task of notifying them. After all, anyone could inform them. It did not have to fall upon Florence. But theydidhave to be told. Would it not be worse for Florence if her own parents were the last to know of her betrothal?
“They won’t care that I am marrying, other than feeling relief I will no longer be a burden to them.”
“They will care.” Trajan cleared his throat. “Duke here. They’ll care about my status.”
“Only for the advantages they can wrest from a connection to you. They won’t care about me, nor care if we are happy or in love. They’ll just wonder whether you are in your right mind to choose me and praise the heavens and their good fortune that you did.”
The wind picked up a little and the clouds began to thicken.
Trajan glanced up at the sky that was a deep blue earlier but was now fading to gray. “Time to return home before we are caught in a downpour.”
She glanced up as well. “Do you think it will rain?”
“I don’t know, perhaps a passing shower.”
“It would freshen the air and clear out the heat and dampness.”
He took her by the arm. “We ought to get back, in any event. We have those fake packets of purloined letters to prepare.”
They made their way back to the inn, collected Hermia, and wereabout to climb into their carriage when Trajan spied his cousins walking to the stable to retrieve their horses. He called out to them.
The three of them smiled and started toward him.
“What are you doing here?” Sebastian asked.
“Nothing important. Just a day at leisure.” Trajan laughed. “You look like a trio of alley cats on the losing end of a fight.”
Florence coughed as they got too close, because they reeked of cheap perfume and stale beer.
“See you at home,” Trajan said. “I recommend baths for the three of you. And burn those clothes, they reek. What in blazes did you get into?”
Sebastian winced. “I have no idea. Can’t remember a thing.”
Nathan groaned. “Nor I.”
