He held it out to the young lady who took a step back as he did so.
Harriet was too far away to hear him and could not read his lips, but he appeared to be explaining the properties of the orange peel.
The young lady simply looked horrified.
Shrugging, he tossed the peel back into the flower bed. But just before walking off with the young lady, who looked ready to bolt from the garden, he looked up at Harriet’s window, grinned, and arched an eyebrow to indicate he had won this first round.
Harriet could not help laughing.
She nodded to acknowledge his minor victory.
Well, not everyone adored gardening.
Not an hour later, he strolled out with another young lady on his arm.
Harriet started laughing again as he bent down at the same flower bed and retrieved the same orange peel. The young lady’s response was similar to the first. “Oh, Max,” Harriet said, unable to stifle her amusement. “You dog, don’t you dare win this bet.”
He looked up at her window, that smug grin back on his face as he tossed the peel back in the flower bed.
There were four more ladies to go.
Surely, one of them would come through for her.
As it turned out, two of them did. Not that they embraced that orange peel with full vigor, but they showed sufficient interest that the duke could not claim his victory.
She had just finished her afternoon tea when she heard a knock at her door. It could have been anyone, but she knew it was the Duke of Pendrake himself, and hastened to open the door. “Victory is mine,” she laughingly teased as he strode in.
“You got lucky, Harry.” But he chuckled, so she knew he was not angry.
“Not at all. You were too quick to dismiss all of these ladies without truly getting to know them. But are you not pleased that two of them found the orange peel story fascinating?”
He chuckled again. “They were hardly that. Mildly interested, perhaps. Tolerant. Willing to endure and feign interest because they had their eye firmly fixed on the prize…my dukedom.”
“Honestly, Your Grace.Youare the prize.”
“Harriet, have you learned nothing yet? They would not look at me twice if I were other than the duke. Were I a second or third son, they would be pushing me out of the way and never looking back.”
“I hope this is not true. But the fact remains that…” She broke into a silly victory dance, hopping up and down while singing, “I won. I won.”
He folded his arms across his chest and watched her with a gleam in his eyes and a wide grin. “Never let it be said that the Duke of Pendrake is a sore loser. Be ready at eight o’clock sharp tomorrow morning. We’re going to scrub that little chapel in the woods to a dazzling shine.”
CHAPTER FOUR
MAX COULD NOTbelieve he was actually going to scrub a floor this morning.
Not only was he going to scrub it, but he was looking forward to the task because Harriet was going to work beside him and that sunburst smile of hers was simply dazzling. “Are you really going to go through with this bet?” she asked him.
He nodded. “I honor my wagers.”
Several maids and footmen on his staff followed behind them carrying buckets of water, mops and brooms, feather dusters, two ladders, cloths, rags, and polishes.
One would think they were going on a picnic, for he had never seen a cheerier group of laborers.
Of course, they were all having quite the laugh at his expense.
The mighty duke, having lost his wager, was about to get on bended knees before one Miss Harriet Comeford.
He hadn’t wanted Harriet to carry anything herself, but she had insisted on being given something. So he had handed her an apron for herself while he tucked some padded mats under his arm that his housekeeper insisted he take along to place under his and Harriet’s knees while they were on the floor scrubbing.
