perfunctory bow. “At your service. Now, if you will excuse us, Madame. I promised to escort this charming young lady to the church picnic.”
As they made to step around her, she moved to block their way. “Your Grace, perhaps you should seek me out at the picnic. I may be privy to something you might wish to know.”
“I possess everything I need to know. Good day, Madame.”
And he did. Lady Vivian would not go unscathed after their performance today. If Mrs. Honeywell was representative of the good townsfolk of Dunstable, they were a judgmental lot. He couldn’t leave Lady Vivian to face the consequences alone, but he didn’t know what to do about her either. His plan to set her free was growing more complicated every moment he spent in her presence.
***
A rush of affection for Foxhaven urged Vivi to squeeze his arm as they descended the church stairs. He had surprised her again, this time with his gallant defense. Was he reconsidering marriage to her? His response to Mrs. Honeywell seemed to indicate so.
Vivi had thought her offer the other day was sound, and to have him reject her outright had bruised her pride. Perhaps he was beginning to see the advantages of marrying a lady who would place few demands on him.
“Thank you for protecting me from the dragon back there.”
He tsked. “Lady Vivian, clearly Mrs. Honeywell is descended from Gorgons, not dragons.”
She giggled. The duke was as irreverent as she was, and she liked it.
Her behavior in church caused her a bit of embarrassment, though. Pretending to accidentally touch him had been brazen, even for her, but Foxhaven’s response when she had squeezed his leg in the carriage had left her giddy. Shameful as it was, she liked ruffling his calm. It made him seem more human.
His hand covered hers and applied pressure. “Is the woman likely to contact Ashden? I would be happy to write to him and explain.”
Some of her confidence faded. Perhaps she wasn’t bringing him up to scratch after all.
“I have learned to never underestimate Mrs. Honeywell. If Ash should hear about the incident, I will graciously accept your offer, but there is no need for action at this point.” She cocked her head to the side. “Has anyone ever told you that you play the doting suitor well?”
“Do I? Excellent. My inspiration is very… inspiring .” He winked and drew her closer. “But now you must stay by my side all afternoon so no one figures us out.”
They wandered arm-in-arm to the field behind the stone church where colorful blankets dotted the green grass like beds of flowers. Tables had been set up close to the church building, each loaded with like items for the contests—pies, lace, drawings, embroidery.
Foxhaven nodded toward the tables. “Do you enter contests?”
“Heavens, no. Although I should. To provide a boost of confidence to the other ladies.”
“Then you have never had the pleasure of taking home a ribbon to mark your achievement?”
“One must achieve something to earn a ribbon of achievement, Your Grace.”
They moved to the queue forming in front of two long tables draped in white cloths and covered with platters of chicken and cold ham, bowls of fruit, and sugar biscuits. Foxhaven passed a plate to her then allowed her to precede him through the buffet. Vivi selected what she wanted and left him at the table while she found a spot where they could sit.
A group of young ladies she had once considered friends saw her approaching and looked the other way, presenting their backs to her. The ache of loneliness had dulled over time, but their snub pricked her more sharply today. She located a blanket set apart from the others and claimed it. In a moment, Foxhaven joined her.
He pointed to a group of men stringing a finish line from one stake hammered into the ground to another. Mr. Fry, a church deacon, held strips of cloth in his fist as he supervised the placement of the finish line. The tails flapped in the breeze.
Foxhaven
Terry Mancour
Rashelle Workman
M'Renee Allen
L. Marie Adeline
Marshall S. Thomas
Joanne Kennedy
Hugh Ashton
Lucius Shepard
Dorlana Vann
Agatha Christie