It would be difficult, though, for he dearly wanted to show her once and for all that there was no fighting it. She was meant for him.
***
Sir Frederick watched his friend pace and grinned. “Shall I tell you what is wrong with you, ‘ol’ man’?”
“Go to hell,” replied the duke with the greatest affection.
“I might yet do that, but then again, who knows, me thinks I might yet be saved by an angel.” Sir Frederick sighed sweetly, and then added, “As you might yet be.”
“Me? Looks like now I am on a direct path …” The duke sighed, sitting. “I have to find a way to talk to her … and she won’t, you know … talk to me, that is.”
“Why not?”
“Damn if I know.” The duke shook his head. “Women are the strangest creatures alive. One minute smiles and giggles and the next ice and hard stares.” He sighed heavily. “No doubt it is no more than I deserve, cad that I am …”
“Cad? You? Never. You are the best of the best,” scoffed Sir Frederick, staring at his friend. “What is all this?”
“Naught, pay me no mind.”
“Aye, and so I would not … but, Nick … your soul … it is right where it has always been, in that great big heart of yours.”
“Afraid the devil has a hold of it now …” The duke had been giving himself a beating since the afternoon before, when he’d taken his beloved’s innocence from her. He should have told her at once that he adored her, but he had it in mind to tel
l her father first and ask for the right to her hand. Now look where such niceties had gotten him. She thought him a rake of the worst sort … and he was. He was experienced and should not have given in to his lust. He had come by really to catch a glimpse of her last evening, and she had been holed up in her room. And today, she had cold-shouldered him on her way out to ride just as he arrived.
Perhaps the best thing he could do was give it time?
Sir Frederick sighed and said dreamily, “She—I think she loves me … I can’t be certain, but I have great hopes.”
The duke rounded on his injured friend, danger in his blue eyes. “I did not know you had a tendre for Lady Babs!”
“Lady Babs? What? No, you fool … Miss Bretton. My heart belongs to Miss Bretton.”
The duke grinned broadly. “Then I wish you all the luck in the world.”
“Aye, I declared myself, you see.”
“Without first applying for her hand … to Lord Waverly or Lady Jane?” The duke was surprised.
“I’ll do that, but I first wanted to know … wanted her to know how I felt …”
The duke became thoughtful. “You know, Freddy … you are a far more clever man than I.”
Sir Frederick ignored this, as his mind seemed locked on a problem, and he said, “The trouble is … I don’t want her to hear rumors about me and not understand the facts … but I am so afraid that after I tell her, she won’t want me any longer.”
“Don’t be a dunce.” The duke snorted. “Miss Bretton has a very sound head on her shoulders.”
It was at this point that the lady in question appeared and poked her head in the doorway to say, “Good afternoon, your grace … How is our patient doing this afternoon?”
A moment later, the duke was taking his leave of his friend and smiling to himself at the glances Freddy and Miss Bretton shot one another. He shook his head and sighed.
He took the last step and thought to go into the galley for a pint when he bumped into the Lady Babs. He was aware that she caught a small, distressed sound in her throat as he touched her shoulders, only to steady her. He immediately dropped his hands.
“Babs … I would like to speak with you …”
“I am afraid I cannot. I am promised to Lady Jane … I have to hold her silks for her while she puts the final touches to her embroidery,” Babs said, rushing off.
He reached out and held her upper arm. “Babs … sweet … don’ t go …”