How to Catch a Duke in Ten Days by Violet Hamers
Chapter Six
“Ladies, this is the Duke of Benson,” Rufus said, gesturing to the man who Hermione had thought was a servant, “and his brother, Naval Officer Stenham.”
Hermione was so stunned she didn’t curtsy straight away. She stared at the Duke of Benson, her mind reeling. As his sharp blue gaze found hers, it was coupled with a mischievous smile, clearly taking pleasure in her shock. Hermione felt her father’s grip around her wrist tighten in admonishment, and she hurried to curtsy, bowing her head.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace,” she said, hoping by looking away from him, it would do something to hide her mad blush. She remembered with horror what had happened the night before. She had not only been sharp-tongued and rebellious with a Duke, but she had also kissed him.
“And you,” he said formally. Hermione lifted her eyes to his, finding him still bearing that insufferable smile as he gazed at her.
“Well, please, everyone take your seats. It’s high time we had some breakfast,” the Dowager Duchess pleaded with them, ushering with her hands for them to sit. “I am so ravenous, I could eat a house!”
“Horse, mother,” the Duke said with a small laugh.
“I’m sorry?”
“The phrase is I could eat a horse,” he said kindly to her.
“Oh yes, that’s right,” she chuckled to herself as she turned her attention to her plate. “How strange that phrase is… Why would I want to eat a horse?”
“Why would you want to eat a house?” the Duke pointed out.
Hermione tried to stifle her own laughter at the Duchess’ mistake. From what she could see, the Duchess was perhaps not quite as astute as her sons. As Hermione turned to the chair nearest to her, the Duke pulled the chair out for her. In the chatter amongst the others, he took the opportunity to whisper words to her. “I promise not to demand you leave this chair,” he said, winking at her.
She turned her head sharply away from him and took the seat quickly, just as he pushed it in. Any other time, she was sure she would have thought of a tart comeback; as it was, she was too baffled by the reveal to be able to come up with anything good.
Why was a Duke dressed as he was last night? At the very least, the reason why he found her actions of wandering the house at night impertinent made more sense. She was in his library, reading his books, and had refused to move when he asked. She rather wished the ground would open up, and she could disappear into it, never to face him again.
As he took the seat at the head of the table, he kept looking her way. She could feel it, even though she tried to keep her own focus on the food in front of her. To her dismay, she had chosen the seat closest to him by accident. A quick glance at Rufus and Cordelia showed the two were looking at each other with clear excitement. It only made Hermione groan inwardly.
“I understand we are to enjoy your company for a month,” the Duke said, addressing the group as a whole. “What has made you wish to leave London for so long?”
“Hermione had–” Phoebe began, but Rufus spoke over her before she could give any details away.
“We merely wished to take our family to see the ocean, Your Grace,” Rufus said with a simpering smile.
Hermione reached for her sister’s hand under the table, squeezing it in comfort. Being sensitive, Phoebe already looked hurt at her father’s sharp cut. Hermione knew Phoebe was sensible enough to never reveal what had happened in London, but clearly their father didn’t trust her not to.
“A break from London is just what we needed,” Rufus continued on.
“Still, a month is a considerable break,” the Duke said with care before settling his blue eyes back on Hermione. “One could almost wonder if you were escaping something.”
For an awful minute, Hermione thought he must know already what had happened to her in London, but then he turned back to Rufus with a smile. “Or is it just escaping London society in general?”
“You could say that, Your Grace,” Rufus chuckled with good humor. “We are merely excited to take a break from that world and spend some time in peace here in the countryside.”
“Then I hope you will enjoy your stay,” the Duke said, lifting his gaze back to Hermione.
As Fergus took up a thread of conversation, earning the attention of Rufus, Hermione was startled to see still the Duke did not look away from her. In fact, he leaned toward her, just an inch.
“How shocked are you on a scale of one to ten?” he asked, whispering to her with a smile.
“No scale is big enough, Your Grace,” she said. “And you should have corrected me in my error last night,” she whispered back.
“Where would have been the fun in that?” he asked.
She was tempted to smile too, but she managed to clamp her lips tightly together and stop herself from doing so. She resolved to barely speak at all now for the rest of the breakfast. If this was the Duke, then she was in danger indeed, for she was already attracted to him and enticed by him. How could she trick a man she liked into a deceitful marriage?
* * *
Antony was struggling to keep control of his mirth. Lady Hermione Rogers’ embarrassment was plain to see, for now she could barely lift her eyes to him at all, and her face was blushing bright red. He tried to draw her into conversation a few times, but when she resisted, it was plain to see that he had offended her the night before.
That thrilling argument seemed as far away from him now as the stars themselves. It was a great disappointment.
“Do you visit London often, Your Grace?” the Earl of Branigan asked him, clearly looking keenly at him for an answer.
“Not in recent years,” Antony said. “I find little pleasure in the place.” To his surprise, this news appeared to make Lord Branigan smile as though he had said something that was music to his ears. “I expect my brother will attend the events of the ton in future years. He has to first finish his commission with the navy, however.”
“The navy?” Lady Phoebe Rogers said, looking up from her plate and turning to Fergus at her side. “What is that like?”
“Not as exciting as you would think,” Fergus said, apparently not having noticed the way in which Lady Phoebe Rogers was smiling sweetly at him. Antony could see it plainly and hid his temptation to laugh behind his coffee cup. “There is a lot of standing about on navy ships doing nothing, and then there is a rush of activity whenever we reach a port. I am afraid my tales might bore you intensely.” His listener did not seem bored at all, more or less hanging on his words.
Antony was startled to find his own eyes involuntarily turning back to the beauty sat at a right-angle from him. Lady Hermione Rogers was still doing her best to avoid his gaze and refuse to enter conversation with him. He felt a small kernel of jealousy, wishing Lady Hermione would hang on his words the way Lady Phoebe did his brother’s.
“Lady Hermione,” he said, addressing Hermione directly in desperation to make her talk. “What do you intend to do whilst you are in the country?” She looked up, meeting the gaze of her father first before looking to Antony.
“I do not yet know,” she said simply. The words were spoken so plainly that Antony sighed in disappointment. She was clearly refusing to be drawn into conversation at all. Antony placed his coffee cup back down on the saucer, now that he had finished the dregs and what was left on his plate. With breakfast over, he hoped he could escape this trapped circle of attraction to the woman at his side that was refusing to speak with him.
“If you would excuse us, Your Grace. I must speak to my daughter alone for a few minutes,” Lord Branigan stood to his feet and beckoned Lady Hermione to do the same thing. Clearly startled, she slowly stood too.
As breakfast was tidied away, Antony watched as Lord Branigan and Mrs. Atkins walked Hermione out of the room. They kept glancing back to her with clear admonishment in their faces.
What was that about?
“Lady Phoebe,” Fergus turned to the remaining sister at his side. “Perhaps I could show you around the garden whilst you are here?”
“I would like that very much,” she said with a smile.
“Be sure to take one of the maids with you as a chaperone, dear. You cannot walk alone,” the Duchess said, patting Fergus’ hand as he stood, without being subtle in the slightest.
“Mother,” Fergus hissed quietly in warning of how obvious she was being.
“Apologies, I mean. Enjoy, Lady Phoebe. The garden really is very beautiful,” she said with glee. As the two of them hurried out of the room, Rose turned back to face Antony. “Did I say something wrong?”
“I think my brother is not so much asking Lady Hermione to walk in interest of courtship as just being a good host, mother,” he said, standing and peering out of the window to see Fergus leading Phoebe out into the gardens. He seemed to be making a point of standing a little distance away from Phoebe.
“What a shame,” Rose said, sinking back down into her chair. “It’s still going to be some time before I get those grandchildren, isn’t it?” Antony chuckled at his mother’s words.
“I’m afraid it might well be. Now, if you would excuse me, there is something I need to do.” He kissed his mother on the forehead before leaving the room and heading back to the sports hall. There was some equipment he needed to collect before he headed outside in desperate need of burning off this desire that was thrumming in his veins for Lady Hermione.
* * *
“Do not say anything for a minute,” Rufus warned as they stepped into the hallway. Hermione felt her wrist held in the pincer-like grip again as her father drew her toward the staircase.
“Ow, ow,” she complained as he held even tighter than before. As they hurried up the steps, Cordelia followed them with haste. “Father, loosen your grip a little. I am hardly going to run away, am I?”
“I do not understand you in the slightest, child,” he muttered, more to himself than in response to her at all.
By the time they reached the top of the stairs, Hermione’s wrist was burning with pain. Her father dragged her all the way to her guest chamber and hurried her inside with Cordelia behind him. Once the door was closed, leaving the three of them alone, he looked back to her, with his hands on his hips and his nostrils flaring.
“What on earth were you thinking?” he said with sharp words. For an awful minute, Hermione feared he knew exactly what had happened between her and the Duke the night before.
