Page 27 of An Offer By the Beastly Duke

“I am only observing that your concern is admirably consistent.” She turned back to her ball, her smile sharpening. “Nothing at all to do with anyone else in those woods, I am certain.”

Penelope did not dignify that with a response.

Finally, there was movement. The hounds came through first, tongues loose and tails wagging. Then the grooms came, then the first riders, the colors of their coats muted with dust and dried mud.

Their laughter preceded them, a series of deep, rolling bellows that cut through the lawn. They spoke in loud bursts, throwing their heads back to trade jests about near-misses and lucky shots that Penelope couldn’t quite hear from her distance, but it was clear it had been successful.

The party spread out across the lawn, horses handed off and rifles surrendered to waiting grooms.

Penelope’s eyes moved through the group with the rapid, involuntary precision of a mother’s scan. She had done it in church, at the edges of village greens, anywhere her son was present without her direct chaperoning. It was a reflex she hadn’t chosen yet couldn’t stop.

She found him before she had fully taken in the rest.

Nicholas was practically running, his short legs churning at a frantic pace she had seen when he got too excited to simply walk. Too distracted to sprint. His jacket was smeared with mud at the knees. His hair had come loose from under his cap. His face was incandescent.

“Mama!”

He hit her at the waist, both arms locking around her.

Penelope caught him and hauled him in, her chin dropping to the top of his head. She pressed her hands flat against his back, feeling his heart hammering against her palms like a trapped bird. Something in her chest finally released.

“You are all right, my darling,” she said. It was a whisper, for her as much as for him.

“I am more than all right!” He pulled back, his eyes dancing with a bright light. “Mama, you will not believe it. The Duke⁠—”

“In a moment.” She cupped his face in both hands, thumbing a smudge of dirt from his cheek. She had to check him over first for any injuries or slight show of harm before he recounted any tales from his time in the woods.

She found a thin scrape along his chin and a clean rip at the cuff of his left sleeve, and though she worried initially, she knew it was nothing serious.

Her lungs filled properly for the first time since she’d watched him walk into the trees. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

“No. Mama. The Duke⁠—”

Lord Hillsborough arrived at her elbow, his movements wide and unhurried. He peeled his sweat-stained gloves back finger by finger, his jaw set in a permanent, toothy grin that crinkled the skin around his eyes. He exhaled a long, gusty breath of triumph, ignoring the mud splattered across his waistcoat as if it were a badge of highest office.

“Lady Romwich!” He was flushed and cheerful, his mustache slightly disordered by the wind. “Your boy was a credit to himself today. He was incredibly brave, and it takes good courage to ride out, as young as he is, among a group of seasoned hunters.” He gave Nicholas a hearty clap on the shoulder that rocked the boy forward. “But I must confess, honors went elsewhere. Brigrock was out first, before the rest of us had our barrels up. First bird, most birds, at that, and I will tell you that not a single wasted shot among them.”

He shook his head in rueful admiration. “Whatever you might hear about the man’s manners, Lady Romwich, he handles a rifle the way most men can only dream of. Quite something to watch.”

“I was there!” Nicholas said, his chest swelling visibly. “Right beside him.”

“You were indeed.” Hillsborough winked at Penelope and moved off toward the drinks table.

Nicholas seized the opening. He grabbed her hand and steered her two decisive steps sideward, away from the nearest ladies. His voice dropped to that low, urgent register he used for the most important secrets.

“We were in the ferns, Mama, both of us crouched down, and he went completely still. And then he raised his rifle slowly. And he fired! The pheasant just dropped before I even heard the sound properly.” He stopped to breathe. “And afterward he talked to me about patience. He said patience is what separates the hunter from the man who only makes noise in the trees. Do you think that is true? I think that is true. He is ever so wise, Mama.”

“Nicholas.” She turned him gently but firmly by the shoulder until he faced her fully. “Look at me.”

He did as she asked, recognizing the iron in her tone.

“You strayed from Lord Hillsborough’s side.”

The light in his face dimmed. “Only a little.”

“Nicholas.”

“I found a hare in the north ferns and I only followed it.”