Page 62 of The Duke’s Hidden Duchess

Waiting was important. To approach Rowland would suggest purpose; to be found by him required only patience.

She spoke to an acquaintance when spoken to, accepted a second glass she did not want and let the afternoon continue around her. Twice she saw Rowland at the edge of another group. Neither time did she allow her gaze to remain upon him.

Lady Marwood had arranged the garden precisely as promised. Beside the fountain, a shallow arbour had been cut into the old yew walk. Its two recesses were divided by an ornamental trellis thick with climbing rose. From one side, the other appeared to be merely part of the planting; voices, Lady Marwood had demonstrated earlier, travelled through it remarkably well.

The arrangement looked entirely innocent. That was its chief recommendation.

Lady Marwood and Lady Carbery withdrew into the adjoining recess before Selina approached the fountain.

Neither woman was crouching behind shrubbery. Selina had been firm upon that point.

Lady Marwood had received the instruction with the expression of a woman unused to being told where she might or might not crouch in her own garden. Lady Carbery had wisely said nothing.

Selina took a glass of lemonade from a servant and stood where Rowland could see her.

Then there was nothing to do but wait again.

The fountain itself was unremarkable, a stone boy holding a fish from whose mouth the water emerged with insufficient force. Selina watched it for several minutes while the party shifted behind her. The thin stream caught the afternoon light before falling into the basin. A breeze disturbed the surface and moved the leaves overhead. Behind her came the ordinary sounds of a fashionable gathering: conversation, glass against glass, the distant musicians beginning another piece.

She did not turn to discover whether Rowland had noticed her.

If he had not, she would remain where she was.

If he had, he would come.

Rowland came before the lemonade had grown warm.

“Your Grace.”

Selina allowed a moment before turning.

“I had wondered whether Berkshire might persuade you to remain there.”

His smile was pleasant. His eyes were not.

“We considered it.”

“Did you?” Rowland lifted his glass. “And yet here you are. London is difficult to abandon once one has acquired a reason to remain in it.”

“Or a reason to return.”

Something in her voice caught his attention.

Until then he had been enjoying himself. Now he began to examine her.

He came a little nearer. “You look tired.”

“I have not slept particularly well.”

For the first time, his smile became genuine.

Selina lowered her eyes to the lemonade.

“I had thought distance would improve matters.”

“Distance from what?”

She hesitated just long enough.