He looked as if he might walk off without her but seemed to remember his manners as he paused at her side, his arm rigid as he held it out to her, his hand curled into a fist.
Frances held the muslin in a fierce grip, uneasy in the wake of his declaration.
Why did he think he was not a good man? At first, perhaps she might have believed he was cruel or brutish, considering how he had appeared to her on the night she arrived. But, in the time she had been at Alderwick, she had seen no sign of him being anything but a decent gentleman. No airs and graces, as one might expect from a duke, but that was more to his merit than his detriment.
“Now,” he growled, as if he meant to prove that he was not the good man she thought him to be.
Swallowing thickly, Frances took his proffered arm and walked back with him along the quiet path, beneath the canopy of those majestic trees. The sheen had faded, the quiet excitement with which she had wandered into those trees with him now waning.
What did you do, Dominic? What did you do?
As they found the others, obliviously indulging in a game of hoops, she could not muster the courage to ask.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Well, you are certainly in one of your most cheerful moods,” Hugo remarked as he strode along at Dominic’s side, the two men on their way back to fetch their horses.
The carriage was already on its way back to Alderwick, the three ladies safely inside. Dominic was not keen to linger in order to have a pointless quarrel with his cousin when those who were dearest to him were in that carriage, about to travel upon night roads that might require an escort.
“Fairs usuallyimprovea person’s disposition,” Hugo continued to prod, forever picking atjustthe right spot to goad Dominic into responding.
Sometimes, it was almost as if they were closer to brothers than cousins.
“Was it the bright lights? The music? The puppets? Do you have a headache from all the frivolity?” Hugo grinned. “I know how you despise frivolity.”
Dominic whirled around, his temper flaring as he cast his cousin a hard stare. “Do not provoke me today, cousin. I know it is an amusement to you, but you are right; I am not in the mood.”
He made to keep moving, but Hugo marched along right next to him, refusing to give him a moment’s peace.
“Did she rebuff you?” Hugo asked with a raised eyebrow. “Did you try to kiss her hand underneath the cedar tree, and your cheek learned how Lord Sherbourne’s felt?”
Dominic stopped dead in his tracks, his chin dropping to his chest, his hands clenched into knuckle-whitening fists as he fought to control his breaths. He would not and could not lose his temper here, where there were too many witnesses. Nor would he lose his temper with Hugo, when Harriet’s debut relied so heavily upon the man’s connections.
I scared her, you dolt.Thatis what I did, and it cannot be undone.
It was better that way. Better for her to imagine what sort of monster he was, instead of learning for herself.
Yet, her beautiful face pierced his fevered mind, those mesmerizing green eyes wide in something like awe as shehad gazed down at his gift. He remembered how tenderly she had brushed her fingertips over the gossamer fabric, and how protectively she had held it right to her heart, as if that was where it belonged.
“Dominic?” Hugo’s voice changed, colored with worry.
“What?”
Hugo’s hand came to rest on his shoulder, lightly squeezing. “What is wrong, old boy? You look as if you are in pain.”
“The only pain I am suffering is the thorn in my side,” Dominic grumbled in reply. “Andyouare that thorn. I have told you to leave this alone. I have told you my position on the matter. We agreed not to pester one another about these things and yet, here you are, breaking your promise.”
And making things more difficult than they already are,he neglected to add, for if he admitted that, then he would have to admit to far more. More than he was willing to say out loud.
“I meant no harm,” Hugo said quietly.
“Yes, well, let us keep it that way.” Dominic glowered at his cousin and trusted that the warning would be enough.
He had been an idiot to buy that square of muslin, when he knew what it might mean to Frances. He had been an idiot to agree to let everyone visit the fair instead of returning home. He hadbeen an idiot to start talking about Althea, to start remembering all the things that he loathed about his past; the things that could not be undone. Indeed, he had been an idiot to agree to let Frances stay, from the first moment that her spirit, her defiance had made him waver.
Hugo nodded. “I shall say nothing more about it.”
“Youkeepsaying that,” Dominic pointed out, his tone sharp. “But London is where Frances will find her match, not here. She is worthy of… so much more. Even a prince would not be good enough for her.”
