A Duke’s Overlooked Spinster (The Courting Season #1)

Chapter 15

“This is diverting!” Caroline’s voice exclaimed, as she drew in a gasp for breath. Sarah turned around and looked at her cousin, blinking confusedly. She had been striding along the pavement with her cousin, so lost in thought—recalling the concert and the duke the previous night and how he had stared at her as she neared the door at the Assembly Rooms—that she had forgotten where she was.

“Yes,” she agreed dreamily. “Most diverting.”

“You sound fatigued,” Caroline said with a grin. “I am, too. I wonder if it was wise to have a picnic today,” she added, looking up at the sky. “But then, it is such a lovely day! We could not postpone it since it might rain again tomorrow.”

“Quite so,” Sarah replied. She gazed up at the sky. Sunshine, bright and intense, poured down on them from a blue sky. Here and there, she occasionally spotted puffs of white cloud, drifting across, moved by a breeze somewhere in the blue heavens.

It was a beautiful day. Just right for a picnic.

She and Caroline had hurried ahead of the rest of the guests, striding down the road to the Royal Crescent to be there in time to prepare.

“We have an awful lot of guests,” Sarah added, looking around. The entire house-party had decided to attend the picnic, which was around twenty people.

“Oh, that will all be well,” Caroline said lightly. “We have enough rugs. And our cook has been making hampers since yesterday morning. I am certain we shall be well-fed.”

“That is good,” Sarah agreed with a lift of the lips. She was hungry, having picked at her breakfast, aware of the scrutiny of the duchess and Lady Marina across the table from her. Their disapproval of her had seared across the space of the breakfast- room and Sarah had eaten as much as she could bear to and then hurried out.

“Almost there. Now, is not that a sight to stare at?”

Sarah nodded. She stared across the gap of the open lawn towards the Royal Crescent. It was the first building she had taken note of as they rolled into Bath, and it drew her attention every bit as much as it had then now that she saw it up close.

The building—it was one row of terraced houses, not a single building, though it looked like one—was a perfect arc, the fronts of the houses richly adorned with columns and pediments. It was easy to imagine that the building was from a bygone era; the same era as the Roman Baths that she had seen just days before. Sarah stared up at it in awe, for a moment imagining that she had traveled more than a thousand years back in time.

“It’s impressive,” Caroline commented, then returned to her brisk, down-to-earth self. “The butler said that he had come down earlier with the blankets and baskets. Can you spot him?” she asked Sarah.

“There.” Sarah tilted her head, indicating a tall man in a black jacket, standing under a tree. She squinted—she could just make out a pile of what might have been picnic-baskets beside him. Caroline squinted in the direction she indicated and nodded.

“There he is. We ought to go and instruct him as to where they should be. Edward should be here any minute with the guests! Let us make haste.”

Sarah walked briskly with Caroline across the lawn, holding onto her bonnet. She had chosen a patterned muslin gown—white with a design of leaves on it—and her bonnet was white, tied under her chin with a white ribbon. She hurried with Caroline, who wore a daffodil-colored gown with a bonnet with ocher ribbons.

Mr. Edgehill received his instruction from Caroline and started unloading baskets from the pile, positioning them at regular intervals on the lawn. Sarah stared across the grounds. She could see coaches starting to arrive at the spot where Caroline and herself had been left by their coachman. One of them must belong to the duke.

She watched as people started to alight from the coaches. Her eyes were drawn to a tall man in a dark coat and top hat. He reached up to help a lady out of the coach, and a child and she grinned. It was the duke! He had brought Henry with him.

“Good. Everything is in full swing, just in time,” Caroline commented from beside her, grinning. Some of Caroline’s reddish hair curled onto her brow, her nose lightly dusted with freckles from days spent in the sunshine in Bath.

Sarah watched as the duke approached. Henry walked with the dark-clad Mrs. Wellman, but she could see that he was impatient and wanting to run.

Sarah’s heart sank. The duchess, the duke’s mother, walked close by beside Lord and Lady Bardwell, and Lady Marina was with them. She would not have a chance to see the duke while they picnicked.

“Shall we take a seat?” Caroline asked, gesturing to the rugs that the butler had laid out. There was room for five people on each of the blankets, and Sarah was sure that their party would be Caroline, Edward and herself, and probably James and Victoria. The duke would be forced to sit with his mother and Lady Marina.

She sat down beside Caroline, and then smiled to see Edward approaching, hurrying to join them. His gray top-hat tilted as he ran, and he reached up a hand to adjust it.

“A fine day! Just the thing for a picnic.” He grinned at Caroline. “A fine notion, sweetling.”

Sarah smiled, seeing the warmth between Caroline and Edward. She no longer envied them, having felt something similar herself. She glanced over at the approaching guests, but everyone was milling about, gentlemen standing and waiting for the ladies to be seated, and she could not spot the duke anywhere.

Caroline let out a cry as someone ran towards them. Sarah gasped, then giggled in delight as Henry, squealing in delight, tumbled and flopped down on the mat close beside her.

“I’m sitting here today,” Henry told Caroline and Edward. His blue gaze sparked defiantly, then he looked shyly down at the blanket. Sarah chuckled.

“Of course you are, young fellow. Is that all right?” she asked Caroline and Edward. Edward lifted a shoulder.

“If the duke says it is,” he said. “No reason that I can think of as to why he should not join us. He’s a grown-up little fellow.” He grinned at Henry.

Henry looked at the blanket, picking at it. He was a shy child, not comfortable with scrutiny.

“I think I will have a sandwich first,” Sarah told Henry, watching as Caroline—ever the fine hostess—began unpacking the basket, placing a fruit pie to one side, then a plate of neat sandwiches with the crusts trimmed away, and another platter of hard-boiled eggs.

“Pie!” Henry declared, his gaze fixing on dessert at once. Caroline chuckled.

“You have to have a healthy meal, young man. You will spoil your appetite if you eat the pie first.”

“I suppose,” Henry said ruefully.

Sarah was reaching for a sandwich, about to pass the plate to Henry to select one, when the duke and Mrs. Wellman appeared at the edge of the rug.

“I must apologise, my ladies,” Mrs. Wellman began at once, but the duke interrupted her.

“Henry? What are you doing here?” he asked carefully.

“I want to sit with Mrs. Brooke,” Henry murmured, barely audibly. The duke bent down to listen. Sarah’s heart thudded wildly. He was kneeling beside her on the mat, no more than a hand’s span away.

The duke turned to Sarah. She forgot how to breathe. His blue eyes held hers. They really were dark, the blue so intense that it made her stare.

“Would you mind, Miss Brooke? If Henry sits here?”

“No,” Sarah said instantly. “Of course not.”

The duke grinned. “Well, then. Mrs. Wellman, I trust you will enjoy your picnic. Henry will remain here. As will I.” He sat down on the rug, folding his legs neatly under him. Sarah gaped and looked at the rug. Shyness made it impossible to look up, awareness of the duke’s presence making her heart race.

“Sandwiches, Your Grace?” Caroline asked, gesturing to the plate.

“Thank you, my lady,” the duke said conversationally. “I would be pleased with a sandwich.”

He reached to take one and leaned back again. His arm almost brushed Sarah’s as he did so and she drew in a small gasp. He smiled at her.

“Enjoying the fine mild weather?” he asked.

Sarah nodded, finding it hard to breathe. “Um...yes,” she managed to say. “It’s a fine day.”

“Good day for riding,” Edward commented cheerily. “Good that we got in a fine ride this morning, eh? “Pray, I wager you did not confide in anyone regarding the fence we leapt, did you?" he jested with the duke.

“We did indeed leap a fence,” the duke replied with a nonchalant air.

Sarah giggled. She glanced over at Henry, who was tucking into a sandwich, a blissfully happy expression on his face.

The conversation rose and fell around her—lighthearted, playful—and she listened intermittently, watching the duke and Henry as they chatted together. The duke was smiling, a grin hovering at the corner of his mouth. Her breath caught in her throat. He was so beautiful when he smiled.

The pie was eaten, and the afternoon sunshine was slanting across the lawn, casting shadows where there had been none earlier, when the duke turned to her.

“Would you fancy a walk?” he asked, addressing the question to Henry, though he looked at her.

“A walk! Hooray!”

The duke chuckled, standing up and dusting off his breeches, which were buckskin riding breeches. They fitted his thickly muscled calves in a way that made Sarah flush red, though she did not know exactly what made her flush so.

“Can we run up there?” Henry asked, gesturing to the front of the lawn, near the Royal Crescent buildings. The duke lifted a shoulder.

“I cannot imagine why we shouldn’t,” he said lightly. He smiled at Sarah. “Miss Brooke?” He reached out a hand to help her up. Sarah’s heart thudded in her chest, and she took it. Muscular and firm, his hand enveloped hers and she gasped as she shot upright. He pulled her to her feet with no real effort.

“Thank you,” Sarah murmured, looking at the lawn. She was aware of the duchess standing a few paces away and she fancied the air crackled with a heat of resentment as they walked off across the lawn. She wondered idly if the duchess had been coming to fetch him and she winced, thinking that would explain her ire.

“Thank you for agreeing to have little Henry sitting with you,” the duke said with a grin. “I am pleased that he has adults in his circle who he trusts.”

Sarah smiled. “I am honoured that he trusts me,” she said honestly. “I suspect he is a cautious, shy child. Where people are concerned,” she added, watching him run heedless down a stone path. “Not where anything else is concerned.”

“No. He is most incautious of things that could do him harm,” the duke chuckled. “But then, I wonder that my brother and I survived our childhoods.”

Sarah giggled.

The duke’s gaze narrowed, and Sarah frowned, looking where he looked.

Henry had been running towards the Crescent, and then he had disappeared.

“Where is he?” the duke asked.

Sarah’s frown deepened. “I know not.” she stammered. Her heart thudded hard in her chest.

“Behind that bush, perhaps,” the duke suggested, walking closer. “We should look.”

“Yes,” Sarah agreed, hurrying with him across the lawn. She could not imagine what had happened, but all the unforeseen dangers flooded her mind. The duke glanced at her. She could see the fear in his eyes and she knew that he was thinking the same way. They both started to run.

Sarah held her skirt out of the way. It was uneven lawn for a run.

“Son? Son!” The duke yelled. Sarah’s heart twisted with concern and sympathy. The duke let out a yell. Sarah frowned, discerning other noises—whimpering, and a strange high-pitched sound as though some animal was in distress.

“Son! There you are. What have you done?” the duke demanded.

Sarah turned to where the duke stared. Her jaw dropped as she spotted Henry. He was covered in dirt, his hair tangled with twigs. And his arms were firmly clasped around a wriggling puppy.

“He’s hurt, Papa. Please can we keep him?” Henry demanded.

The duke’s eyes widened. Sarah glanced at the puppy. He was white, with wiry fur and a squarish face. His fur was matted here and there, brown- and gray-stained with dirt. She winced, seeing how starkly his ribs stuck out under the fur. He had been on the street for some time, she thought. Her heart twisted in pity. The creature was, nonetheless, full of life and attempting to lick Henry’s face. The puppy seemed to understand that the child wanted to help.

Sarah looked at the duke.

“Son...” His hands were clasped in front of him, twisting in concern. “I do not know. He might be dangerous, or sick. I don’t know if I can...” he began.

“Please?” Henry begged. His eyes were wet with tears and Sarah noticed that, along with dirt, he had tears on his cheeks. “He was so scared. It took so long to lure him out from under the bush. He’s hungry,” Henry pleaded.

“Son, I think...” the duke began, but Sarah could not bear the boy’s pain, or the thought of the puppy being left to starve.

“I will take him,” she said at once. “I will nurse him and look after him and if he is sick, then we will soon know. I helped with the cook’s cats,” she added, seeing the duke’s incredulous face. “I will look after him, but you can see him as often as you want. And then when he is well, he will be yours,” she said to Henry. She ignored the duke, not wanting to know what he thought of her interference.

“I think...” the duke tried, but Henry exploded with delight.

“Hooray! Will you? Miss Brooke? Hooray! You have a home!” he cheered, lifting the puppy up in his arms. The creature wriggled but it did not look frightened. Sarah smiled.

“Sorry,” she said to the duke ruefully as Henry, still clasping the little puppy, came over to her.

The duke shrugged. “It is a fine solution,” he said with a slight smile tugging at his lip.

“Thank you,” she replied teasingly. He grinned; a swift, radiant grin that seemed as bright as the sunlight.

Sarah’s heart flipped over as the four, counting the little dog were walking back towards the picnic-goers and the lawn beyond.