No diamond of the first water would want to share him with the whole of London, so he must accept his fate and let fame slowly slip out of his life.
But not his desire for women—that was one thing he’d never give up.
As he continued exploring the garden, he stopped at one of the many statues that graced the central part of the grounds. The main walking path was surrounded by meticulously kept, raised garden beds. The fragrant night air could soothe the most rankled lord. Dozens of lit torches illuminated the way, and he found a gazebo nearby.
He slowly approached, desiring to sit on one of the curved benches, but found he was not alone. Of course, he should have walked away, leaving the lady to herself. Even though he could not see her face, he recognized Lady Julia. Her golden hair, arranged in an elegant manner, had caught his eye now as it did the first time they met. Nor could he ignore her perfect posture, for she sat as erect as one of the statutes and could rival the beauty of any of them. Upon hearing his footsteps, she gazed over her shoulder at him.
“Your Grace,” she said. “It seems we are destined to keep meeting at the most inopportune places.”
She could have said doomed…
“Are we, Lady Julia?” he teased as he stepped closer. “Perhaps you are following me.”
He smiled wryly at her snort of rejection.
“Do you not have enough women following you? Chasing you from what I’ve been told.”
“Ah, yes,” he said, standing in front of her now, able to see her features clearly thanks to two sconces with lit candles hanging on the walls of the gazebo. “I am afraid that is the very thing that brought me into Lady Willa’s bookshop yesterday.”
“Which would also explain the torn fabric of your morning coat.” She lowered her head, looking ashamed for some reason.
“One of my favorite coats, I must say. Tell me, Lady Julia, why did you not believe I was a duke?”
She looked up again, her dark eyes as piercing and haunting as the three-quarter moon. “The general condition of your garments did make me doubt you, as did your abrupt behavior.”
He chuckled. “I am afraid my sudden return to London has stirred normally well-behaved ladies into a frenzy.”
She shook her head. “Is it easy?”
“Is what easy?”
“Living with such conceit?”
By God she made him feel things that he shouldn’t for a woman who continued to insult him so openly—her impertinent mouth in need of kissing—and perhaps something else he’d rather not give voice to. “I could ask the same of you.”
“Really?” she asked.
“Easily so. How can you live with your self-righteousness? I think you dislike any man holding a title.”
Her jaw clenched, but she did not frown. “No. Just you.”
That made him laugh. “Perhaps I should leave you to your thoughts, madam.” He started to go.
“Wait,” she said.
He leaned his hip against the wall of the gazebo. “May I be of service?”
“I-I…” She sighed and looked away from him, obviously frustrated. “I have been unfair.”
“You have?”
“Why must you answer every statement I make with a question?”
“Perhaps what you say is shocking, if not scandalous.”
“Scandalous?”
“Nowyouare answering my statement with a question, Lady Julia.”
