“So are you,” he said. “We may as well give them something simple to understand.”
“And what is that?”
“That we walk, and that neither of us is ashamed of doing so.”
A woman in a pale yellow gown slowed as they passed. Her eyes moved from Margaret’s face to the duke’s arm. A man looked to the duke, then looked at Margaret with open interest.
Margaret felt her shoulders tighten.
“Do you wish to stop for a moment?” the duke asked quietly. “I know that this is not easy for you to do.”
“No,” she said. “Thank you. I wish to keep moving before I forget how.”
“Then we will keep moving.”
They walked in step. The gravel shifted beneath their shoes, and Margaret focused on that rather than the way the gentleman beside her was beginning to make her feel.
He seemed to know how she was feeling without her having to say a word. He noticed the subtle shifts in her demeanor, and though it was strange to feel so seen, there was a certain comfort in it too.
“Do you regret agreeing to this?” he asked.
“No,” Margaret said. “I regret that I care what they think, if anything.”
“That will pass.”
“When?”
“When you decide their opinion has no power,” he said. “It takes practice.”
“You speak as if you have mastered it.”
“I have, I rather think.”
They passed a cluster of officers. One of them paused, recognition flaring across his face.
“Your Grace,” the man said, bowing.
The duke nodded his head in greeting. Everyone knew who he was, and though many knew of Margaret, it was not as though she was particularlyknown, not in the way that he was.
“Captain.”
The captain’s gaze flicked to Margaret.
“Good afternoon.”
“Good afternoon,” Margaret said.
As they moved on, she let out a breath.
“They are not frightening if you have not done anything wrong,” he said, chuckling softly. “Do you wish to sit?”
She glanced toward a bench beneath a tree.
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because,” she laughed gently, “I am rather enjoying this. I had not expected to, but there is a certain thrill to it.”
