Page 25 of No Duke of Mine

CHAPTER EIGHT

Algernon laughed out loud. “I just remembered our foot races all those years ago, and the dirty tricks you used to get past Jasper so you wouldn’t come last.”

Maggie shrugged, but her cheeks turned red, a sure sign she was embarrassed. “The actions of a child should not be held against them as an adult.”

“It was an inspired strategy.” He laughed at her embarrassment that was hardly called for. Maggie had cried out as if in pain, and Jasper had stopped, concerned for her well-being, only to have Maggie sprint past him to take third place. “Jasper sulked the rest of the day, even though it was a trick he frequently used on Stratford to make him come last.”

“So I had noticed,” Maggie confessed, and then laughed. “I promised Stratford that I would eventually beat Jasper for him one day. I never break my promises.”

It had been another wonderful day, full of fond reminiscences and camaraderie—something he hadn’t experienced with someone other than a brother in a very long time. Maggie did not care that he was titled. Except for the odd teasing mention of being a duke now, she didn’t bow and scrape like others seemed to find necessary. She was entirely herself with him, and Algernon appreciated that after the revelations of the day before.

She was not to blame for the actions of a spoiled, privileged young man who believed he deserved to have Maggie, no matter her opinion on the subject. She had done nothing wrong, and her father should have defended her. Believed in her good character, like Algernon always had.

“Ravenswood had never seen the like until recently. My brothers’ wives remind me of you, by the way. Fiercely competitive in their own ways. All stubborn, inventive, and uncommonly pretty. They spin my brothers’ heads like nursery tops.”

“Well, that is for the best. The right wife can keep her husband well-grounded.”

The carriage began to slow, and Algernon looked ahead, spotting the rooflines and chimneys of a village. The sight disappointed him, and he made a spur-of-the-moment decision. They would stop here for the night, even though continuing would not tax the horses’ strength unduly to reach London before nightfall.

However, the urgency of a journey that had weighed upon him when he’d first started out had dissipated entirely.

He was having too much fun with Maggie—a situation that would likely never come his way again. She had termed their time together as an affair, and he did not disagree. There was an intimacy between them that had existed with none other besides Lady Barnes, but without the pleasure of sharing her bed. Not that he hadn’t considered how good that, too, might be.

His valet, having decided that the day was better spent outside the carriage than within, had not been there to hinder their private conversation, which had been broad-ranging in topic and entirely nostalgic.

It had been lovely, one of the best trips in his memory. The year Maggie had spent with him at Ravenswood was one of the fondest in his memory, as well. Second only, perhaps, to the rare instances spent with his late mama in a good mood.

Maggie looked out the window, too, noticing his attention fixed on a point ahead and the slowing of the carriage. “Are we stopping here?”

He nodded, and noticed Maggie frowned. She was more eager than him to reach the end of their time together. Yet Algernon wanted to linger in her company again tonight after dinner. Because, of course, their time of pretending to be husband and wife was at an end when he reached London tomorrow. After tonight, their last night together, they would go back to being near strangers, he supposed, and the affair would be over.

Algernon did not want to let Maggie go and never see her again.

He’d had no idea how much he had missed Maggie until he’d been given this opportunity to be with her again. When she was reunited with her father, he would have to behave as he left her behind. He sighed. Knowing there was no help for him to avoid that fate. He would not have her father believing her promiscuous because he was another man who would not marry her.

He was going to London to meet with the woman he might propose marriage to, as long as his suspicions proved false. But he already knew he wouldn’t want to talk to Lady Kent all day like this, or perhaps even at all, if she became his wife.

Lady Kent was merely a means to an end. The only way to extinguish the large debts owed to his brothers.

That feeling of drowning, of being smothered by the weight of responsibility, returned to choke him, and he shrank against the back of the seat. Could he marry a woman he might never care deeply for?

Suddenly, Maggie’s hand was on his thigh, and he turned to look into her worried eyes.

“What’s wrong? Are you known here, too, and afraid you’ll be seen with me? I could exit the carriage outside the village if you prefer?”

His panic only increased at that offer. “Don’t even think about slipping away from me. I will come after you.”

Maggie laughed. “I’m impressed you still think you can catch me.”

Algernon had caught Maggie easily before, but then he hadn’t seriously tried. Maggie hadn’t been much of a runner, not that he held that against her when she excelled at so many other things. He had enjoyed their little competitions during their childhood. Maggie had arrived as a timid little girl at Ravenswood, and it was probably his fault she’d left nearly a hoyden.

At this inn, they would need to have separate rooms, due to the proximity to London, but he would pay her bill as usual. His way to thank her for returning to his life at this most difficult time, and showing him that the future could be better.

The coachman brought the carriage to a smooth halt before a fine-looking establishment he had stayed in before, and Algernon shuffled toward the door. “Maggie, would you mind waiting within the carriage while we secure rooms for the night?”

“I cannot afford this inn, either,” she whispered, unconsciously caressing his thigh. The circling motion calmed him, but her touch also aroused him despite his best efforts not to be.

He shifted in his seat, knowing he could not act upon his desire. “But I can.”