Page 57 of Distracting the Duke

“I wonder why he wants to see them? I thought he’d come to Wroxham for pleasure.”

“Maybe something unexpected came up.” Ellie caught at Clara’s arm and pointed to a flight of birds wheeling and weaving across the salt marsh. “What do you think those are? There are so many birds here that I’ve never seen at home.”

“Small waders perhaps?” Clara said, having recently looked through one of Marcus’s books on the subject. “Turnstones, maybe. I’ll look them up when we return to the Hall.”

They had reached the stile, and Marcus stood waiting for them, his handsome face wreathed in smiles. Clara tried to ignore his warm gaze as he helped her over, but the mere touch of his hand turned her insides to blancmange, and she wobbled for a moment on the other side of the stile before remembering where her feet were.

Ellie came over last, and Clara turned to catch her smiling coyly up at the duke while he looked down at her in avuncular fashion. They would make a handsome couple.

Clara’s heart welled at the thought that the Duke of Ulvercombe had, at this moment, eyes for only herself. If she gave herself to him, he would abandon his courtship of Ellie, and the Westons could say good-bye to a splendid match for their ward.

Would the girl be terribly disappointed? Or would it come as a relief? Ellie hadn’t ever really warmed to the duke.

If, on the other hand, Clara became his duchess, she’d be able to do so much for Ellie. They could give her a proper come-out in London, bring her to court, introduce her to all the eligible young beaux… Maybe she would even find a love match. What a splendid time they would all have together!

But he hadn’t mentioned marriage, had he? And if he was disappointed with her, quite probably never would.

Suddenly, a terrified shriek crashed through the quiet meadow.

Clara whipped around to see. What in the world…?

Chapter Thirty

Clara froze at what she saw, her heart stopping for a terrified moment.

Ellie was standing at the edge of the pasture they had been about to cross, just next to a wide-open gate. On the other side of it, a herd of young bullocks, fascinated by the new arrivals, was closing ranks and advancing on the petrified girl.

“Help her!” Clara screamed at the same instant Marcus shouted, “Good God.”

In a flash, he sprinted over and placed himself between Ellie and the thundering animals. Philip rushed to his side to assist, and Marcus waved his walking stick menacingly and bellowed at the cattle at the top of his lungs.

Confused, the mass of bovine masculinity veered, stamped, and snorted, and finally broke apart in the face of Marcus’s aggression like waves upon a rock.

Clara sagged with a rush of relief.

Marcus turned, laughing, and said something to Ellie, whose face was chalk-white. Clara saw her take in a long breath, then go very still.

Oh no. “Marcus, catch her!” she shouted, and hurried toward them.

With impressive speed, he leaped forward to catch the fainting girl. He lifted her and held her to his chest, giving her a gentle shake.

Ellie’s eyelids flickered, and she groaned softly.

Marcus’s stride brought him swiftly back to the stile. The rest of the party had hurried to gather round them to help.

He said to the powerfully built Lord Stranraer, “Ned, let me pass Miss Soper across to you. She needs to get back to the house where she can be cool and calm.”

But Ellie tightened her grip about Marcus’s neck and let out a small, ladylike sob.

He shot Clara a look, and said, “It appears Miss Soper and I will be going the long way around, via the path at the top of the meadow. If the rest of you wish to continue your walk, Ned knows the way and can easily protect you all from any further threats.”

Sarah said worriedly, “I’d rather go back. It seems unkind to continue without Eleanora.”

It was decided that Lord Stranraer would accompany Marcus with Ellie, and the rest of the party would return to the Hall to alert the housekeeper that one of the guests was in need of tending.

Clara was feeling very unsettled. She would have expected Ellie to be deeply embarrassed, even terrified, to wake from her faint and find herself in Marcus’s arms. The girl had been known to blush if he so much as looked at her, young and inexperienced as she was.

Something about the tightening of Ellie’s arms around Marcus’s neck had bothered Clara. A lot.