Once the meal had finally ended, she rose, ready to make a hasty departure. She could address this evening with her mother at a later time. At the moment, she only wanted to flee and return home. The men retiring to the study to enjoy cigars and port would be the perfect escape.
Only the moment she came to her feet, the duke gripped her elbow.
“Walk with me in the gardens, Agatha. The moonlight is bright and unencumbered this evening,” the duke said.
It was on her tongue to graciously reject him, when her mother appeared as if she’d popped up from beneath the Persian rug.
“She would be delighted to, my lord,” my mother said.
I take the opportunity to shift my stance so that I “accidentally” step on my mother’s foot.
“Pardon me,” I say. “I’m afraid I’m quite tired, my lord.”
He loops my arm into the crook of his elbow. “We will take a short walk then.” He nods to my mother. “Thank you, Ranetta, for such a lovely meal.”
Her mother curtseyed and gave the duke a broad grin. Agatha tried not to roll her eyes. As much as she didn’t want to go on this walk in the moonlit gardens with him, she has no legitimate reason for saying no.
At least he seemed content to hear himself speak. His voice rattled on as they depart the house and step down into the garden. He droned on about the weather and the moon on their way into the garden area. This wasn’t a large garden you’d find at a country estate. Since they were in London, the size was abouta fourth of that. Though Agatha knew her mother did none of the actual work herself, she takes great pride in the quality and vibrancy of her London garden. She employed three gardeners to attend to its every weed and bloom. The lush spot sits behind their townhome and was bordered by a great stone wall.
“I had not realized you were shy, my dear.” He helped her down the steps and then they were on the stone walkway that meandered through the small garden.
She’s wasn’t. Shy. Instead she was simmering, waiting to pounce on her mother. This kind of meddling was to be tolerated when she was a child. But she was a fully grown adult widow who did not need her mother continuing to stick her fingers in Agatha’s life. She wasn’t surprised, by any measure. This was the reminder she needed that either she became a self-sustaining mistress or her parents would have her walking down another marital aisle.
This garden with its brightly colored flowers and lush green vines was always her favorite place at this house. Tonight, however, things felt decidedly different. For starters, she wasn’t alone. And her companion wore entirely too much cologne and standing this close to him the scent seemed to overwhelm her senses. Even away pushing the pleasant smell of the springtime blooms.
“Have you ever been to Cornwall?” the duke asked.
“I don’t believe I have.”
“That is the location of my largest estate, but then I also have holdings in Wales, Scotland and down on the coast near Brighton. You would, of course, be free to visit any and all of them, making whatever decorative changes you see fit.”
She stopped in her tracks and looked up at him. “I beg your pardon, my lord?”
“When we’re married.”
She opened her mouth and shuts it several times.
He chuckles. “I can see that I surprised you. But certainly you parents have mentioned being in discussions with me regarding your future.”
“Yes, but no one has asked me anything.”
He tilted his head and a frown quickly crossed, then left his features. “I was under the impression since you’re not a simpering miss in her debut year that romance and the like would be unnecessary.”
He led her over to a stone bench and they sat. Agatha inhaled slowly, trying to settle the uneasy way her dinner sat like a rock in her stomach.
“Are you saying you’re going to insist I waste my time courting you?” His voice was sharp with his question.
“Not at all, my lord. I was merely pointing out that if we are to marry, then the discussion should be between the two of us, not you and my parents. As you said, I am an adult, not a simpering miss.”
His chuckle sent another uncomfortable shiver up Agatha’s spine. “Very well, we can discuss this. I don’t think I’ve been shy about my interest in you, Agatha.” He grabbed her hands and held them with his own.
“No, my lord, you haven’t. But I would be remiss if I didn’t point out that you are still young and handsome enough to pick a younger, more attractive female. One who hasn’t already been married. I know you still seek an heir and my marriage, though brief, did not result in a pregnancy for me.” Of course that has everything to do with the fact that her virginity is still firmly intact, but Agatha did not dare mention that secret. She’d already shared enough of that for one week.
“You weren’t married long enough to determine if you’re incapable of having children. And as I’ve mentioned, I don’t have the patience for a younger girl with foolish thoughts of theromantic notion. You and I both know this wouldn’t be a love match. There is no need to pretend otherwise.”
That one statement was the most appealing he’d said all evening. She m find him intolerable if she was expected to pretend to be the loving wife.
He brought one of her hands to his mouth and his breath was hot and moist against her bare skin. “That said, I do not want you to mistakenly believe that I do not find you desirable. You, perhaps, could afford to eat less biscuits and cakes, but you are a very handsome woman, Agatha.”