"Does the Duke live there most of the time?" she asked.
The fishwife nodded. "Rarely leaves. Not a fan o’ that London, I understand. Not that I blame him – who’d want to be somewhere that busy for any length o’ time? I’ve heard y’can barely walk for horse dung on the roads."
Penelope chuckled. It was certainly true in some areas, but she doubted anyone had ever said it to her before. It was rather nice, being anonymous.
"Is he a decent man, the Duke?" she asked directly, for she didn’t know how much longer she could stand in front of so much fish without retching.
"Fairest landlord you’ll ever meet," the woman replied sincerely. "I heard from my grandmother that people were a bit unsure when they were given the seat, three generations ago. What with them being English – thought they’d be tyrants. No offence meant, o’ course, milady."
Penelope smiled. "Of course not."
"But since they’ve been in the castle, held the title, this place has prospered. And the most recent one – the young Duke, we call him, though perhaps that’s not so accurate these days – well, he seems the best o’ the lot. Perhaps some men are just born to be in positions like that, for he always seems to make the right decisions."
Penelope thanked her for her time and moved on, relieved to get the smell of fish out of her nostrils. What she’d been told wasn’t wholly unexpected, but she had not anticipated such enthusiasm in the woman’s words. Even though she thought her father was a fair landlord, she doubted his tenants would respond so fervently if asked about him. They wouldn’t say anything negative, but they also wouldn’t go out of their way to list so many positives.
The Duke of Dunloch must be a very special man indeed, and she was beginning to wonder why on earth he was not yet married. What was it that meant he had not attracted a wife…or that he did not want one? Perhaps he simply had no desire to tie himself to another human being. And she could understand that...except he needed an heir. A man so diligent about his duty surely would not wish to see everything he had worked for passed on to someone who was not a direct descendant.
And therefore, he surely needed a wife.
Chapter Twelve
She urged the horse on, faster than was sensible, because she had a plan. She wanted to know: was the Duke brave? Would he save her if he thought she was in danger? He had already saved her once, of course – but then, there had been no immediate danger to either of them. Now, she wanted to know what kind of man he truly was.
She found herself growing rather excited every time she planned one of these little tests.
It was the most interesting thing she had done in years, and she felt like she was truly getting to know the Duke to boot.
After testing him – something he always seemed to pass, she noted – she would feel a little guilty. And perhaps if she had thought through that afternoon’s ruse, she would have realised how foolish it was. How unfair to make the Duke think her life was in danger just to test him.
But at that moment, as excitement coursed through her veins, all she thought about was how he would react. She hoped, as the horse almost skidded on a sharp corner taken far too fast, that he was nearby – otherwise, this would all be for naught.
And then a dog barked somewhere in the distance, and the horse reared. Penelope did not have time to think. Her heart raced, and she clung desperately to the reins, very nearly being thrown off. She was an experienced horsewoman, but it seemed that her mount was not used to the normal noises ofthe countryside.Was it a new purchase?she thought to herself, even in her panic. Surely the animal had heard a dog’s bark before.
When the horse returned to all four legs, Penelope tightened her grip even more on the reins and tried to force herself to breathe normally. All was well. A near calamity – but nothing she couldn't handle. Now she would just gently trot the animal back to the stable and forget all about the test she had intended for the Duke.
But the horse had other ideas. Clearly used to the pace Penelope had set on the way back from the village, once its feet were firmly on the ground, it took off at a canter, far faster than Penelope was able to control. It did not, as she had planned, race into the courtyard, but instead bolted straight past the castle and towards the loch.
"Stop!" she screamed, tugging on the reins to no avail. "Stop!" At the rate they were going, they would soon both tumble into the loch – and she had no idea how cold or how deep it was. Yes, in theory, she could swim, but in a deep loch full of weeds, and in a heavy dress… She wasn't sure she would make it to the bank, let alone manage to save the horse, which seemed intent on propelling them both to their deaths.
And then, seemingly out of nowhere, the sound of thundering hooves filled her ears, and rough hands grabbed at her, unseating her from the horse she had been clinging to so desperately.
Yet she did not fall to the ground, as her mind expected her to, but instead was thrust onto a warm, solid horse that seemed to remain calm in spite of everything.
"Easy," the Duke called in an unwavering, strong voice. "Easy."
Penelope did not know whether it was the Duke’s voice, the realisation of what lay ahead, or the fact that the horse nolonger bore her weight, but the animal reared once more and halted just before plunging into the loch.
It took Penelope’s mind a few moments to catch up with everything that had just happened. She blinked rapidly and realised she was shaking.
The Duke had one arm around her to keep her steady and hold the reins, and she leaned against it for support.
That had been close. Her silly plan had almost led to real tragedy. What would have happened if the Duke had not been nearby, already saddled on his horse? What if he had not reacted so quickly?
In silence, he turned the horse in the direction of the castle and clicked his tongue for her wayward mare to follow – which she did without protest.
"You really do have a propensity to find yourself in trouble, don't you," he said, his tone sardonic.
"I didn't mean to," Penelope said, her voice shaking, more affected by the incident than she would have liked to admit.
