Ten Things I Hate About the Duke - Loretta Chase Page 0,106
a walk in St. James’s Park. After all, if it rained they were only within a few streets of home.
The rain held off, and early in the afternoon Cassandra, her mother and sister, and a pair of tall footmen reached the park about the time she’d planned. Ashmont, who’d promised to keep watch, timed his arrival perfectly.
The ladies were strolling along one of the footpaths toward the lake. He turned up where theirs joined another path, near the water.
At sight of him—impeccably dressed, graceful, and unreasonably handsome, Cassandra’s heart performed almost painful acrobatics. She knew he’d be here. He’d said he would come, and she trusted him, as she’d trusted him last night, in so many ways. All the same, the happiness bubbling up inside included a small portion of relief.
“How unexpected,” Mama said with a glance at Cassandra. “Mr. Morris told his mother you were leaving London.”
“A momentary impulse,” he said. “But I came to my senses. I had more important and enjoyable business to attend to in Town. What great luck it is to find you here.”
His blue gaze went to Cassandra, and instantly her mind went straight to what had happened between them last night. Her body went there, too, the muscles tautening and tensing while the day grew many degrees warmer.
“Miraculous, I should call it,” Mama said drily. “I should never have thought of coming out to walk today, but Cassandra insisted that she and Hyacinth needed exercise and fresh air.”
“My sister and I were disturbed last night by a drunken lackwit singing bawdy songs in the square,” Cassandra said. “It was difficult to sleep afterward.”
“Appalling,” Ashmont said. “There ought to be a law about that sort of thing.”
“What law can we possibly need when my eldest daughter is about?” Mama said. “She could not leave it to one of the neighbors, or the servants, to deal with the rascal. No, she must step out onto the balcony en déshabillé—for all the world to see—and see to him herself.”
“All the great world were out at their entertainments,” Cassandra said. “Servants made up the audience, and they only stood by to enjoy the show. Furthermore, I should like to know what sense there is in rising from a sickbed and spending an hour dressing, only to tell a sot to sing somewhere else?”
“No sense at all, I suspect,” Ashmont said. “By the time you’d finished dressing, it would be time for breakfast. Ladies’ attire is so complicated.”
“You would know,” Cassandra said.
“Really, child,” said her mother.
“Am I to pretend that the duke is a model of decorum?” She rolled her eyes. “So many rules. Did you know, duke, that once upon a time, and by no means was it ancient times, ladies received gentlemen in their boudoirs in very much what I wore when I went out to silence our entertainer, and nobody thought twice about it.”
“That was in your grandmother’s time,” Mama said. “No woman of repute would do it today. Kindly change the subject—and pray do not tell me I began it. I thought we meant to walk, and here we are, standing.” She glanced up at the grey clouds thickening overhead. “We had better take our exercise while we can.”
“Would you do me the honor of allowing me to join you?” Ashmont said.
Mama took a long, hard look at him, then Cassandra. “Since you clearly came with that purpose, who am I to spoil your stratagems? I am far too discreet to ask how you managed to turn up on the spot at precisely the same time we did. These matters can always be managed, with determination.”
“Lady deGriffith, I could not be more determined.”
“A man ought to know his own mind. I will not hold your momentary indecision about the appeal of horse and boat races against you. We are all subject to an occasional wandering of mind.”
She took Hyacinth’s arm and let Cassandra and Ashmont walk ahead.
Once they were no longer within easy hearing range, Ashmont said, “I think she suspects we plotted this.”
“I suspect that she and my father had their own way of managing these matters during their courtship,” she said. “As long as they don’t know where I was last night, I’m not anxious, not on my own account. The trouble is, if they find out, they’ll know Hyacinth was my accomplice.”
“No, no. We’ll find a way to make me your accomplice. Or the instigator. And they’re not going to know about last night. How could they? Also, as soon as