Lady Vivian Defies a Duke - By Samantha Grace Page 0,11
had been too busy raising hell. He needed adventure, craved the thrill of putting his life on the line. Sitting in a study going over ledgers was boring, and he’d avoided his father—and his duties—every chance he could.
After Luke’s accident he avoided his father for another reason. Shame. What if the duke found out he could barely read without debilitating headaches? How could he care for the estate? He would be the ruination of their family.
Sometimes fury over his father’s death expanded inside him, pushing words from his mind. How could he have died? How could he have left him alone?
This morning his usual disgust with himself was nudged aside by puzzlement as he recalled his encounters with Lady Vivian.
“Why her?”
Of course, his father couldn’t have been aware of the lady’s true nature. Her high spirits would earn his father’s disapproval, even though they appealed to Luke more than he cared to admit.
A figure passed below the window, dragging him from his reverie. It was a woman, and she held a lantern aloft, lighting amber curls spilling down her back.
His pulse quickened. “Lady Vivian?”
Without a chaperone again.
He shook his head, not believing what he was seeing. What was the minx up to now? He grabbed his jacket and left his chambers in pursuit.
He found the corridor for a back staircase, hoping for a quicker route to the barn. He held himself in check as he stepped outside, his muscles tense and his stomach churning with anticipation. He was about to engage Lady Vivian in round three.
The mewling of a calf intermingled with Lady Vivian’s rich laughter and drifted through the open door of the dairy barn as he neared. The lady expressed her mirth with hearty vigor, the smoky sound drawing him inside. He hurried his step, eager to see her again.
The smells of sweet hay and musky animal hit him as he entered. He spotted her at once, but Lady Vivian had her back to him. She was scratching behind the ears of a spotted calf tethered to a post. The baby nudged her hand and elicited another heart-stopping chuckle from the lady.
“Patience, little one. You may have your mama in a minute.”
She rose on her toes and leaned her crossed arms on the top railing of a stall to peer at a full-grown milker. The cow flicked a bored gaze in his direction, but Lady Vivian seemed unaware of his presence.
Luke cleared his throat.
She swung around with a soft gasp. The rhythmic swish, swish of milk squirting into a bucket ceased.
He meant to appear unaffected, but he couldn’t help grinning. The lady was as charming in maid’s attire as she had been soaking wet yesterday.
She dipped into a deep curtsy. “How relieved I am no harm came to you yesterday, sir.”
“Life is full of surprises, is it not?” Of course Lady Vivian was the biggest surprise, along with her tenacity. That she clung to her pretense fascinated him.
Luke approached her, caring not that he stared.
Lady Vivian’s cheeks colored. She backed around the calf, her half boots stirring the hay. He didn’t slow his advance. Not when he would reach her in two strides and earn the reward of gazing at her up close.
“Time to milk.” She dashed into the stall, avoiding direct eye contact. Avoiding him. “I am sorry for providing unclear directions yesterday, but you found Brighthurst.”
Unclear directions? The chit had purposefully misled him. He followed her into the stall. “Apology accepted.”
She tossed a look back over her shoulder. Her pale blue eyes softened. “Thank you. You are a generous soul, Lord Ellis.”
He balked. Lord Ellis? She thought he was Ellis? How could that be when he had sent word?
The servant girl—likely the true milkmaid—scooted from the stool to allow Lady Vivian to sit, then shimmed past him to exit the stall.
“Thank you, Kimberly. I will finish the task,” Lady Vivian said.
The milkmaid bobbed her head and left him alone with her mistress.
Lady Vivian offered a tight smile when he crossed his arms and regarded her. “I wish you a safe journey as you continue your travels. Good day, my lord.”
She thought to send him on his way, did she? Well, she had misjudged him. He was fond of games of strategy, and he couldn’t resist engaging with her, though he didn’t know the rules or what the winner’s spoils would be.
“I’m in no hurry to leave. I informed Lady Vivian last night I intend to stay until Lady Brighthurst recovers.”