The Duke helped the old woman up and left her in the care of her maid. He turned his back and eyed Arabella with a look that said she would very much regret mocking him.
“You are not leaving, of course, Peter,” the woman persisted. “You have promised to escort me today on our promenade.”
The Duke‘s face stiffened in shock. His body froze, and he wouldn‘t dare turn back and face his… wife.
“Your Grace,” Arabella said, sniggering, “you did promise to accompany your wife.”
His eyes narrowed in a way that openly sent the message that he was very close to throwing Arabella in the Serpentine and keeping her underwater. Then he took a deep breath and turned to address the confused woman.
“My lady,” he said in a surprisingly soft way.
Annabelle realized that he was trying to wiggle his way out of this situation, but she was not ready to give up her entertainment.
“Of course, your husband will accompany you, my lady,” she interrupted him, “but you are hurt, so perhaps we should make our way back home.”
If looks could kill, Arabella would be lying dead on the green grass in the middle of Hyde Park simply because the Duke looked at her with such distaste.
“I do feel a little dizzy,” the old woman complained. “Please, Peter, help me back home.”
The Duke looked from the old woman to Arabella, from Arabella to Winnie, and from Winnie to the other maid, as if he wastrying to make sure that this was the reality he was now living in. All four women looked at him expectantly and he seemed quite confused about what was expected of him.
“Your Grace,” Arabella said in a very generous spirit, “take your wife’s arm and accompany her through her carriage.”
The old woman didn’t need to be told twice. She leaned upon him and took one little step towards the exit of the park. The Duke looked absolutely dumbfounded. But there was no escaping the situation without accentuating his ruthless reputation.
So finally, with a look of abandon on his face, he took the old woman’s arm and led her to her carriage, with a gleeful Arabella following, unwilling to miss the spectacle. And yet, when the Duke turned to her once more before entering the carriage, the look he gave her made it abundantly clear that she would soon regret her triumph.
CHAPTER 8
Carriage Ride
The ride to the old lady’s manor was mercifully short. Though the incident in the park had begun as a farce, it had ended in genuine concern. The elderly woman seemed more disoriented and a little dizzy, something that worried everybody, including the Duke. Even Arabella, still warmed by mischief, could not ignore the pallor in the woman’s cheeks.
“Peter,” the old woman said as they reached her manor, “I am not feeling very well.”
“Do not worry, my dear,” the Duke played the part of the doting husband exceptionally well, “we are home, and shall be perfectly attended.”
They reached the manor, and the lady’s maid rushed inside to alert the staff, and soon almost everyone came to take care ofthe elderly woman, fussing over her, and they rushed inside. Golden-hearted Winnie got caught up in the whirlwind as well, and worried as she was about the elderly woman, she followed the rest of the staff, ready to help, too.
The door of the carriage closed. Silence. When the Duke saw that the elderly lady was safe, he turned to Arabella. All worry and concern were shed, and now he made room for the feeling he had been suppressing from the moment Arabella had forced him to play the part of a departed husband to a woman who would have easily been his grandmother.
The patience he had exercised evaporated, and what remained was cold and sharp. He was ready for Arabella’s reckoning, and he would be swift and merciless at its delivery. But before he could utter a single word, Arabella’s restraint shattered.
The laughter she was holding escaped her lips and echoed in the confined space. Abandoning all decorum, she bent forward, clutching her ribs, undone by the absurdity of it all, her body shaking. The ridiculous wax grapes shook with her, and that made the spectacle seem even more comical, raising a new circle of laughter.
Deep down, she was worried that her laughter would provoke the Duke even more, thinking she was laughing at him in his face. So, through tears, she checked to see how close to death she was under his gaze.
Arabella saw the shift in real time. One moment, the Duke looked as if ready to rain hell on her head, making her payfor her humiliating prank. And the next time his look went darker. What had been righteous indignation now dissolved into something heavier.
The laughter faltered on her lips. She didn’t even have the chance to react; the Duke was not a man to hesitate. He slid from his seat on the carriage and swiftly went on his knees in front of her. He loomed over her even in this position. His eyes, that deep forest green, fixed shamelessly upon her mouth.
“You have been a menace, Arabella,” he said in a whispering growl.
He was close enough for his breath to fan the last embers of her mirth till they were a fire of need. Her body locked, every muscle tensing, yet at the same time, she felt an inexorable pull, a yielding in the very core of her.
He slipped even closer, and the fabric of his breeches rustled against her skirts. He let both hands rest on the velvet cushion, caging her in. Arabella tried to summon common sense and restraint, but none answered the call, leaving her alone on the battlefield.
“Your Grace,” she tried weakly.
