How to Catch a Duke in Ten Days by Violet Hamers
Chapter Twelve
“You will see shortly.” Antony answered Lady Hermione’s question not long before the carriage came to a halt, though he could see she was not interested in immediately looking beyond the windows. She was looking down at the dress in her hands, with a smile playing on her lips that he hadn’t seen before.
This was a different smile– somewhat changed from the smiles they shared when they flirted. This one suggested she was truly touched by his gesture. He rather wished he had purchased something else as well, just to keep that smile in place.
“We are here,” he said, reaching for the door. “You can leave the gown in here; the coachman will watch over it.” She did as he suggested, then, as he offered his hand to help her down, she placed her hand in his. It was a warm day and without any gloves between them, he could feel the heat of her palm in his. It made him somewhat reluctant to release his hold on her as they stepped off the track.
The footman and the maid followed them as he held onto her hand a little longer and led her down a stone ramp, leading directly to the fossil beach. “What is this place?” Lady Hermione stopped abruptly, her hand still in his as they looked out over the beach.
“Not the usual beach you were expecting, I imagine,” he chuckled as he watched her reaction.
“Not at all!” she said, gesturing to it. “It’s all rocks and is really rather grey.” He laughed all the more, for it was a perfect description. On one side, the slate like cliff stretched above them, yellow in patches and dark in others. On the other side, the ocean rolled in across the bay. It was perhaps not the most beautiful of beaches, but it was one of his favorite places in the world. It had drama to it and a secret.
“This place is more special than you give it credit,” he said, dropping her hand and stepping out over the rocks, traversing the larger stones to move out toward the ocean. Today, with the sun shining overhead, the sea appeared blue as it gently rolled in toward them.
“In what way?” she asked, moving to follow him.
“It has secrets,” he said, turning back to face her and putting on a dramatic voice. She giggled at his little performance.
“Tell me more; you have an avid audience.”
“In which case, wait here,” he begged of her, turning away. He could see the footman and the maid standing at a distance, fortunately chaperoning them, yet seeming infinitely more involved in their own conversation than paying any attention to what he and Lady Hermione were doing. It left him feeling a little freer.
He turned to one of the large rocks nearby, hunting for the same signs he had seen before over the years. He found the perfect rock, almost dusty in its slate like nature.
“Step back,” he urged Lady Hermione. She did as he asked, hovering behind him as he picked up the rock and dropped it on the ground. As it collided with the other stones, it shattered into pieces, and he began to pick up the fragments, hunting for what was so special about this beach. “Well, that was a little luck. First time.”
“First time for what?” she asked. He stood straight once more and walked toward her, offering her the shard of rock to see inside. Pressed against the slate-like nature of the stone was a perfect ammonite fossil, spiraling inward, no bigger than a thimble but perfect in structure.
He watched her face, somewhat delighted when her eyes widened, and a smile of wonder spread across her cheeks. “What is it?” she asked, taking the rock in her hands.
“An ammonite fossil,” he said, gesturing to the beach. “The whole place is full of them. Scholars are particularly interested in this beach at the moment. They do not seem to realize that the townspeople have been coming here for generations to hunt for such remarkable things.”
“Wow,” she breathed the word, sounding thoroughly amazed as she passed a finger over the rock. “Can we keep them?”
“Well, you can’t keep that one.”
“Why not?” she asked, her smile vanishing.
“That one’s mine,” he teased. “I found it. You can find your own.” He had every intention of giving her the fossil to keep regardless.
“Cruel man,” she mocked him, handing the rock back to him and walking past, beginning to traipse over the rocks herself in search of such stones. He laughed as he followed her, watching as more than once she broke a rock only to find nothing for the hard work.
They were going for many minutes before he needed a break and sat down on one of the larger boulders at the far end of the beach. He had slung his jacket over the rock beside him and placed the fossil there, watching Lady Hermione as she continued to work hard, breaking rocks on the shore.
“What made you want to come here today?” she called to him, just as she picked up another rock and smashed it, hurrying back to avoid being hit by the shards.
“I come here a lot. Especially when I need to think.” He did not even hesitate in telling her the truth. He only found it remarkable after the words left his lips.
“Think about what?” she asked, lifting her gaze momentarily to his up from the rock as she dropped to her knees on the greyish sand to examine the stone.
“Everything. Particularly if things are upsetting or frustrating; if I need somewhere to think, this is where I come.” He only realized the heaviness of his words when she paused in her search, looking up and giving him her full focus. “Too personal?” he asked.
“Not at all.” She shook her head. “If you do not mind me being bold …”
“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you ask permission for being so,” he jested, watching as his words brought a smile from her.
“I was going to say, I’m guessing you came here after your father passed,” she said gently, earning a slow nod from him. “I can see why this place would bring you comfort at a time like this. It has secret beauty.” She lifted the rock a little to look at it then gasped.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Look! Look at this!” She jumped to her feet and hurried toward him, passing the rock for him to see. Across the surface was not just one tiny ammonite fossil, but a whole bundle, about six or seven, some large and some small, all overlapping. It seemed Lady Hermione’s hard work had paid off.
“Damn,” he muttered. “I should have looked with you, then I could claim to keep this one.”
“That can’t happen now,” she said with glee, taking the stone from him and sitting on the rock beside him.
“I found one like this once,” he said, pointing down to it. “That was a day I like to forget. I needed to escape my thoughts, came here the whole day, and then right at the very end, I smashed a rock and found a whole bundle of ammonites. It cheered me more than I can say.”
“What was wrong that day?” Lady Hermione asked. Antony snapped his gaze up toward her, realizing how open he had been with her.
“It is not easy to explain,” he said, looking away from her and out to the ocean. He may have nearly told her about a secret from his past, but he would go no further.
“You look in pain,” she said softly. “May I presume it was some kind of heartbreak?”
“You could say that,” he said, looking down at the fossil in her hands. He took it gently from her, desperate to change the topic even though he could already feel the pain coursing through his body, just as it always did when he remembered that day.
That is why I can never let my guard down with you, Lady Hermione. What we share can never be more than this flirtation.
“Do you know, this is one of the finest fossils I have seen for some time,” he said, bringing a smile to his cheeks. “You have done well–”
“I am sorry.” Her words brought him up short.
“For what?” He looked up from the fossil.
“Whatever heartbreak that befell you,” she said, holding his gaze. “I am sorry to see you in pain, your Grace.” She genuinely meant her words; he could see it in her face.
“Thank you,” he said softly, wondering how to close down this conversation before he told her anymore. When his eyes slipped from her face to the locket around her neck, he thought of the perfect distraction. “What does this mean?” He lifted a hand to the locket and picked it up from her neck, caressing her open neck with the backs of his fingers.
They were close now, and he could feel her heartbeat quicken beneath his fingers. It made him thrum with the temptation to kiss her another time and indulge in what they had shared the first night they had met in the library.
“I told you before,” she said, holding his gaze. “It is a secret.”
“But it is some kind of symbol, am I right?” he asked, finding his curiosity getting the better of him. “Does it remind you of a past love, perhaps?”
“No!” she said quickly, so sharply that he dropped his hand from her. She looked disappointed the moment his hand left her. “Not a love, not quite,” she said, hanging her head and looking down at the fossil again.
“I see, a suitor but not a love. No lovers in your past then?” he teased her, seeking to lighten the mood.
“You are being forward again, Your Grace,” she smiled, looking up at him.
“I rather like being so, especially when it makes you smile like that.” He pointed to her face, laughing when she made a point of clamping a hand over her face to hide the smile. “Is there anything so wrong with a lover?”
“Very wrong, and you know it!” she said, dropping her hand. “A lady cannot take a lover; think of her reputation.”
“I wasn’t thinking of reputations,” he said, glancing over his shoulder in search of their chaperone. The maid was some distance away on the beach, still talking with the footman. He turned back to Lady Hermione. “I was thinking about stolen kisses and illicit meetings.”
“You have already stolen one kiss,” she warned him.
“I’m guessing that is your way of telling me I won’t be stealing anymore.”
“Precisely,” she said, straightening her spine and lifting her chin a little. The dignified look pulled another chuckle from him.
“If it is not a lover, what does it mean then?” he asked, pointing at the locket once more. Her expression turned somber. She didn’t answer him straight away, but instead lifted her hands to remove the locket from her neck completely and hold it up in her grasp.
“It was a gift, though in truth I do not associate it with the person,” she said, speaking to him though she kept her eyes on the jewelry. “I keep it to remind myself of a life that could have been mine. Perhaps a life that would have been easier, happier even.”
“Yet that life was denied to you?” he asked. She nodded in answer. He wanted to ask her more about it, but when he was keeping secrets from her, it hardly seemed right to pry, so he settled for something else instead. “Are you reminding yourself of this other life or torturing yourself with the idea of it?”
She lowered the jewelry and looked up sharply to him. “Go on,” she said after a second, biting her lip in thought.
“I did that once,” he explained. “I kept torturing myself with something that could have been but never was. In the end, I chose not to hold onto the memories of it. You, on the other hand, seem to torture yourself by wearing a reminder of what may have been around your neck.”
He waited, watching as his words sank in. They seemed to register strongly with her indeed as she looked down at the locket.
“Perhaps it is time you found some new jewelry to wear, Lady Hermione,” he said softly. For a while, she said nothing. She merely stared at the jewelry in her hand just as the wind picked up around them. It bristled her hair making it dance behind her head as he watched her.
Antony couldn’t remember being so open with anyone before. Even when he had once attempted a romantic relationship, in truth, he had never talked like this. Being with Lady Hermione felt as though a door had been opened, for no topic was out of bounds, even ones that were perhaps difficult or painful to discuss.
“Maybe you are right,” she said abruptly, shaking him out of his thoughts.
“You’re going to stop wearing it?” he asked.
“No, I’m going to get rid of it, so that I do not have to torment myself with what could have been.” She smiled as she said the words and stood to her feet.
He left her fossil on top of his jacket on the rock beside him and jumped to his feet too, following her as she walked down the beach, closer and closer toward the ocean. When she reached the edge of the stones, where the foam of the waves was beginning to fill small rockpools, she halted for a moment, holding the locket in her hand.
“Is this a little rash?” he asked, suddenly feeling nervous. “I didn’t mean get rid of it; just don’t wear it.”
“I know,” she said, looking at him, “but I think I needed to hear what you just said. In a way, I don’t think you know how right you were, Your Grace. Keeping it only makes me sad. What would be the point in keeping it?” She held it up in the air, turning back to the ocean one more time. “There is one problem with this though.”
“What is that?” he asked.
“Though you already know I have excellent aim when it comes to archery, I am a shockingly bad thrower. With my aim, it’s likely to end up behind us,” she said, mocking herself and drawing a laugh from him. “How is your aim?”
“It is not bad,” he confirmed, remembering all the days he had played cricket with his friends at university.
“Then, you throw it for me,” she said, lifting the locket up toward him. “Throw it far into the ocean, so that it never has to come back to torment me again.”
“Are you certain?” he asked, taking the locket out of her hands. The movement made their fingers brush together. He felt a tingle go off in his body, echoing up his arm and into his chest. He rather wondered if she felt the same thing from the way that she breathed deeply.
“I could not be more certain,” she assured him, stepping back and releasing their touch. “Throw it.”
He wound up his arm and did as she asked, tossing the locket high into the air and out across the ocean. It landed far indeed, out somewhere in the distance where the waves hadn’t yet crested into foam. As it plopped into the water, he saw Lady Hermione’s face crack into another smile. It was so wide and lighted up her face so brightly that he didn’t want to stay away from her. He turned back another time to look at their chaperone, seeing that she had their back firmly to them, walking down the beach in the other direction. With this assurance of privacy, he looked to Lady Hermione, stepping closer toward her.
“If only I could make you smile like this all the time,” he whispered softly to her.
“You frequently do,” she said, still smiling. When she lifted herself up on her toes, he wasn’t prepared for it, not until her hands rested on the opening vents of his waistcoat, then he understood. She kissed him, placing her lips gently against his. It was a soft kiss, tenderer than any other kiss he’d ever had.
As that tingling sensation erupted in his chest, growing by the second, he realized what a danger this was to him. If he carried on like this, he could soon be suffering that heartache and agony all over again.
Why am I not pulling away?
