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Excerpt As they bowled along Brook Street, Deborah admired Fairfax’s competent handling of his horses. The pair seemed a bit skittish, the off leader shying a bit when the wind gusted, which it seemed to be doing with increasing frequency, but he kept them up to their bits seemingly without effort. In truth, she admired everything about the duke, from the perfect fit of his dark blue morning coat and buff pantaloons to the understated elegance of his nubby silk waistcoat, neatly tied cravat, and gleaming Hessians, and she could not help but wonder what he thought of her. She did not want to distract him, but neither did she want him to think she was a ninny with no conversation. “I was not sure you would return,” she ventured after they crossed New Bond Street. “What?” His eyes slewed to hers. “Did you think I would sit tamely in White’s or the House when there was chance, however slight, that you would drive with me?” With me or with one of the Woodhurst twins? She shrugged off the thought. “I didn’t know.” “After my disappointment yesterday, nothing short of a downpour would have kept me away this afternoon.” Oh my, that does sound promising—if it is my company specifically that he sought. “Were you disappointed yesterday?” she asked, greatly daring, then blushed at the boldness of her question. “Exceedingly disappointed.” Such honesty deserved an equally candid response. “So was I.” |
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