Miss Dane and the Duke

Her chin came up and she faced him out. ‘Your Grace, Good afternoon. What a very pleasant spot for a picnic. You know Mr Blake, of course? He is teaching me to drive. Is that not kind of him?’

Antonia did not wait for a reply but sailed past Marcus, leading Jeremy to where Lady Anne was sitting up and straightening her hat. ‘Lady Anne, may I make Mr Blake known to you? Mr Blake is the nephew of Lady Finch, our new neighbour.’

‘Miss Dane, what a pleasure to see you again. Good afternoon, Mr Blake. Do please excuse our informality. Will you not sit down and have some lemonade? I will introduce you.’

Mr Leigh helpfully piled up some cushions for the newcomers while Miss Fitch poured lemonade and the rest of the party was introduced to Jeremy. Antonia saw his eyes widen as Claudia languidly raised herself from a nest of pillows, revealing an outrageously flattering gown and an equally outrageously large straw hat. Antonia immediately felt dowdy – and furious with herself for caring.

‘Mr Blake, how do you do?’ Claudia’s assessment of this male arrival was quite open.

He bowed formally, but to Antonia’s delight made no move to approach Lady Reed, seating himself beside Antonia and Lady Anne.

Marcus sat down again, not beside Antonia, but next to Jeremy, whom he began to engage in conversation. ‘Neat little bay, that, not too long in the back,’ he observed pleasantly.

‘A little long in the tooth now, Your Grace, but it is a nicely bred animal and ideal for a lady learning to drive.’ Jeremy was polite but guarded.

‘Ah, so it is yours, then? I wondered if Miss Dane had made a fortunate purchase.’

‘Yes, it is mine, but Miss Dane is kindly stabling it for me.’ Jeremy began to relate the tale of discovering the gig and engaging Fletcher the groom for the ladies and they fell to a general discussion of horseflesh, the other men rousing themselves to participate. Lord Meredith, Mr Leigh and Sir John all had tales of difficult beasts and astute purchases to exchange and the ladies were clearly quite forgotten.

Lady Anne leaned over and touched Antonia lightly on the arm. ‘Well, we have lost their attention for a while, it seems. Once men start talking of horses I declare it would take an earthquake – or their dinner – to divert them.’

Antonia glanced around. The men were oblivious, Miss Fitch had taken up Marcus’s book and was engrossed and Claudia Reed appeared to have fallen into a light doze against an abundance of cushions. Although how she managed to sleep with her mouth set in such a pretty pout was beyond her comprehension.

Her hostess followed the direction of her gaze. ‘It is remarkable how that woman manages to cast her lures at every man. she meets,’ Anne whispered.

‘And sometimes makes a catch,’ Antonia murmured in return.

Antonia wondered what had promoted the small smile that suddenly curved Lady Anne’s lips, but her thoughts were interrupted by the children tumbling onto the rug beside them, hot and thirsty.

Mr Blake, obviously unused to boisterous children, shied away and broke off from a discussion of Tattersall’s prices to suggest that it was time they returned to Rye End Hall.

Some devil made Antonia respond very promptly to Jeremy with immediate agreement and a sweet smile. She saw Marcus raise an eyebrow, but he did nothing more than get to his feet politely as they left.

Chapter Eighteen

Jeremy was assiduous in his daily lessons and by the end of the week Antonia was confidently taking gateways at the trot and even able to back the gig for a short distance. Their drives had to be taken earlier and earlier during the day as June moved into July and the heat became oppressive by noon.

Antonia slept fitfully, her dreams full of Marcus, but by day she managed to push him to the back of her mind, enjoying Jeremy’s undemanding company. She was certain now that he had no romantic intentions, although it was obvious that he admired her still and enjoyed her company in

tum.

It was true that he was remarkably attentive and that Donna had an irritating habit of smiling indulgently every time he was mentioned. Antonia had a sneaking suspicion that his aunt and Donna were potting a romance between them, but really, she assured herself, it was sheer fantasy.

She repeated the assurance to herself the next morning after they had spent the morning bowling along the dusty country roads in perfect harmony, happy in each other’s company.

Antonia, too honest to mistake liking for love, or to snatch at romance on the rebound, was content to enjoy Jeremy’s companionship. The attraction to her that she had sensed in him on their first meeting had tempered to liking and mutual respect and if she could not – would not – have Marcus, then she would settle her mind to being an old maid... but one with many good friends.

By one o’clock the next morning, with the moonlight flooding across the bedchamber floor as bright as day, Antonia’s resolution to be a happy old maid had quite deserted her.

Marcus had filled her dreams and now, fully awake, she could not shake his image from her mind. She was also very hot, the low-ceilinged room felt oppressive and suddenly she had to be out in the fresh air.

She pulled on a light muslin gown and kid slippers and slipped quietly out of the house, across the lane and into the pleasure grounds of Rye End Hall. But even here the air felt sultry and still.

Only down by the river did there seem to be a faint breeze stirring the willows. Antonia walked slowly along the river path, yawning and wishing she could sleep.

The moonlight silvered the willow fronds as they flickered in the moving air and she was suddenly transfixed by the bubbling beauty of the nightingale’s song. It was an exquisitely lovely noise, yet melancholy, and did nothing to soothe her heartache. What was she about, wandering around at this time of night?

Ahead, beyond the curve of the river, she heard a splash. It was probably fish leaping for the flies that danced over the surface of the water, she reassured herself.