“Is that what you are?” he drawled, pushing the plate toward her. “A guest?”
She met his gaze without hesitation and, before he could object, took his spoon and dipped it into the tart.
Julian stared.
Most people shied away from even looking at him; few, he’d assumed, would be willing to touch him, and yet this woman was completely unbothered by the casual intimacy of… sharing his spoon?
She drew the spoon from her lips with a hum and met his gaze again, entirely at ease.
Wallace made a strangled sound.
“I’m not opposed to sharing,” she said simply, sliding the plate back.
Julian should have found the familiarity improper. Instead, something eased—just slightly.
“You’re dismissed, Wallace,” he said, fighting a smile.
As the footman fled, Julian had the unsettling realization that he had agreed to far more today than he ever intended.
Miss Belle met his gaze again, bright-eyed and unafraid.
And that—more than anything—unnerved him.
THE DUKE’S WORK
Rosamund reached the front steps just as the sky began to pale.
The duke was already there, booted, gloved—waiting.
And beside him stood two horses. One, a tall, dark gelding with a powerful build, standing alert but untroubled, the duke’s, obviously.
The other, Daffodil, bright-eyed and waiting.
Both were saddled and ready.
For a moment, Rosamund simply stopped.
He had kept his word.
“Good morning, Miss Belle,” he said.
There was no formality in it today. No careful distance. Just the simple acknowledgement.
“Good morning, Your Grace.”
His gaze flicked briefly to Daffodil. “We’ll be covering a fair bit of ground,” he said. “Unless you’d prefer?—”
“Oh, no,” Rosamund said at once, already descending the steps. “This is perfect.”
She crossed the gravel with an eagerness she did not bother todisguise.
“There you are,” she murmured, patting Daffodil’s warm neck. “Did you sleep well? Of course you did. You always do.”
The mare huffed softly, as though in agreement.
The duke’s gaze flicked briefly to her gown. “We do have side-saddles,” he said. “But Finch thought you might prefer the one you arrived on.”
“Oh, decidedly,” Rosamund replied, already reaching for Daffodil’s reins. “Side-saddles are an abomination. Dangerous for horse and rider alike.”