Page 13 of No Duke of Mine

Maggie had little money to spare to pay for rooms along the way as it was. She had to continue, but she would much rather travel swiftly in a larger carriage than be crushed. Or rained on, gripping to the back of a mail coach.

But accepting would mean incurring a debt to the duke that could only be repaid when she found Papa.

She worried her lip. The duke’s carriage had looked quite large, even broken, and no doubt it was terribly comfortable, now it was fixed.

And there was the added danger—he might want to kiss her again.

Maggie wasn’t sure that was a good idea. It had been an age since a gentleman had taken any interest in her, but at least she knew where she stood with a duke. Algernon would never hint at making her an offer of marriage just to get beneath her skirts, if he even thought about it anymore.

She considered her options, but she had none better. A lady’s reputation might be ruined during any carriage ride with a bachelor, but it could survive a journey if they claimed to be cousins.

She met Algernon’s gaze again, and she could see that he knew she had no other choice by the way he grinned back at her. He had been just like that as a boy, reading her mind, especially when his arguments had won her over. He was doing so again—and far too easily for her comfort.

“As long as no one discovers the lie, I suppose it could not hurt to at least travel with you to the next town,” she agreed. “I am not going all the way to London, after all—and I shall not be telling my father about our arrangement, either.”

“I should be very happy to take you directly to him.”

“No.”

Algernon pressed his lips together. “To the town nearest his place of employment it is, then.”

That was more acceptable to Maggie. “Very well.”

“I’ll lend you my book to pass the time,” he offered. “But don’t berate me for its poor condition. It got a bit damp.”

She smiled, overcome by a wave of relief that he was still the generous boy she remembered. Algernon had always shared the things that mattered to her. Books were her favorite things in all the world. That, and her new favorite: his kisses.

“Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it.” He held out his arm. “Most likely, you have read it already. It’s from home. From Ravenswood’s library.”

“I remember the library,” she replied, although she wasn’t sure she did. Thanks to her father’s many positions as tutor to great families, she’d seen so many that they had all blurred together. The Ravenswood library had undoubtedly been a place of wonder and riches beyond her reach though.

“Well, where is this carriage of yours, cousin?” she said, squaring her shoulders.

“Our carriage,” the duke corrected, as he held out his arm again. “It is this way, dear cousin.”

Maggie blushed at the warmth of his voice and slipped her arm through his—something she had not done with a gentleman in a long time, either, and certainly never with Algernon, who used to put two hands on top of her shoulders and steer her everywhere, especially out of the library to play.

Thinking of those special days made it easier to pretend she was as important as him, though she refused to let him carry her traveling case.

She went with him willingly, picking their way down the muddy street, lifting her skirts high to avoid ruining the hem with mud. But there was no chance of saving her best shoes from utter ruin because when they reached the stable yard, there was a great puddle of soft mud between them and the waiting ducal carriage.

Algernon suddenly swept her up into his arms and, despite her weak protests that she could walk herself there, carried her across the revolting stable yard.

The grooms surrounding the carriage grinned and whispered, and Maggie’s face warmed again with an unstoppable blush. “You should not have done that,” she complained in a whisper.

“Anyone watching will think that I have a gallant soul, ensuring that my cousin’s shoes and skirts remain free of mud and muck,” he said loudly, clearly for his men to hear. “Men, allow me to introduce my cousin, Mrs. Black. You will all ensure her journey with us is without incident, and watch your language.”

“I would appreciate your restraint,” she said to them. “Now put me down, you great lump,” she demanded, thumping Algernon’s shoulder. “Gentlemen do not hold their cousins for so long.”

“Be still, Maggie,” he whispered. “We need to make sure the mud stays out of our carriage, too.”

One of the men whipped out a rag and wiped any mud carefully off her boots, and then Ravenswood tossed her unceremoniously onto one of the well-padded seats within, before stooping to awkwardly wipe the mud from his own once-glossy black boots.

He took a place at her side and passed over her pillow. “Returned in perfect condition.” He smiled and gestured around them. “Surely this is more appealing than the overloaded mail coach, dear cousin.”

Maggie glanced around, admiring the blue velvet cushions beneath her bottom, and noting the fine quality of the paneling and the thick velvet draperies at the windows. She was shabby by comparison. “Yes, I suppose this is tolerable,” she replied, as haughtily as she could manage.