The Inconvenient Duchess

title.’ He contemplated his wine. ‘Of course, if you do not wish…’
    ‘Oh, no. I mean, of course I’d like to ride with you.’ If only the land were small enough to walk. Of course, the house was barely small enough to navigate with walking. ‘I’m sure it will be very interesting.’
    When I fall off my horse again and you have to carry me home.
    He nodded in approval. ‘Very good, then. I will meet you by the stables in half an hour.’ He tossed his napkin on to his plate and rose, looking down at her with the very slightest of smiles. ‘Dress appropriately.’

    She stood before the stables thirty-five minutes later, cursing all men who thought it was easy to run up the stairs and slip into a riding habit, as though it were a pair of gloves, and then rush outside and down to the stables in less than an hour. And all so she could get up on some plaguey beast with madness in its eye and the devil in its heart…
    She took a deep, steadying breath. She must learn not to think of this as an imposition, but as part of her duties as the duchess. Marcus was right. If the tenants had not seen the lady of the house in some thirty years, it was important that she set things straight. She might not have to make too many more visits, until her riding improved.
    She turned in surprise to see the duke not on a fine stallion, but on top of a most sensible carriage.
    ‘I apologise,’ he said, ‘for not meeting you at the front of the house, but there were things I wished to see to here.’ He glanced down at the habit. ‘I’ve had them harness the barouche, but if you would prefer to ride…’
    ‘Oh, no,’ she interrupted. ‘Really. This is much better.’
    He nodded. ‘Some men would say otherwise, that life’s greatest joy is a spirited mount and the space to run him. But I’ve always thought that horses are a necessary evil and better managed when they have a desire to pull and not take fences at the gallop.’
    Then why had she spent an afternoon sitting on a pillow with her ankle elevated? She made a mental note to fetch St John a swift kick for it, and several other things when she saw him next. She allowed the groom to help her up into the seat beside her husband and he coaxed the team to life.
    He set off at a brisk pace down the road and the team responded to his commands. After a while he fell into easy commentary on the passing sights and the names of the cottages they were driving by and she found herself listening with interest. When he was not raging about something, or staring at her with those stormy grey eyes, he was good company.
    ‘And there is the tree where, it is said, they hanged Blackjack Brody the highwayman,’ he said, pointing to the old oak on their left.
    ‘I know,’ she replied. ‘At least, that is what St John said, when he took me riding last week.’
    He tightened on the reins, causing the horses to start and whinny, before he relaxed and regained control. ‘St John was here, while I was gone?’
    ‘Why, yes. He returned soon after you left.’
    ‘I expect he did.’ His voice was colder now than she had heard it before. ‘I had no idea, madam, that I was boring you with a repetition of information that you’d heard before.’
    ‘Oh, no. Really. What you have been telling me is of great interest, and not at all what I talked about with St John.’
    She hoped that the colour was not rising in her cheeks to betray her. ‘We discussed nothing of import, truly. Just idle chatter to pass the time.’
    ‘I can imagine,’ he replied in the same cold tone. ‘In the future, Miranda, there will no doubt be other instances when I am called suddenly away from home. While I am gone from the house, I would prefer it if you did not entertain men in my absence.’
    ‘But I thought, since he was your brother—’
    ‘Perhaps I did not make myself clear. I do not wish you to entertain men when I am not here. My brother is a man, is he not?’
    ‘Well, yes.’ She resisted an urge to rub the back of her hand across her mouth, to clear it of any guilty traces of the kiss.
    ‘Then he would be included. Do you have any problems with my request?’
    Other than the fact that it was not a request, but an order? ‘No, your Grace.’
    He did not stop to correct the formality of her address. ‘Good. Then we have an understanding.’
    And the crushing silence fell again between them.
    On the road ahead of them, a man was waving down the carriage and he slowed and stopped.