Page 17 of Winning Her Duke

Intriguing. There was that word again, but this time he’d used it to describe her. Mainly her eccentricities.

“I’m not sure if that’s true. Something about you seems to lure out my worst traits.”

He laughed. “You’re accusing me of causing your behavior?”

“It would sure make it easier to explain to Lady Tomison.”

“The devil made you do it? And I’m to play the role of the devil?”

“Would you mind terribly?” she teased causing more laughter. Like his smiles, she wondered at how often the man laughed. He seemed almost surprised by the sound of it.

“One often sets aside propriety when in the company of a friend. Maybe that could be our excuse,” he suggested.

“Might I consider you a friend, Your Grace?” She asked, hoping he would be pleased with only friendship. It was all she was willing to offer.

“I would like nothing more. But only if you’ll call me Hale instead of Your Grace. It is what my friends call me.”

“Very well.” She glanced over and said, “Though not in front of Lydia.” At the exact same time he said, “Perhaps not in front of Lady Tomison.” Their easy understanding made them laugh.

For a moment she felt as if she could trust the duke. If he intended there to be more between them, he would be disappointed for this was all she would allow. And they were getting off to a fine start to their friendship indeed.

When they’d completed their stroll, she turned Godspell over to his owner and wished the duke—Hale—a pleasant day. She watched as he mounted and gave a wave as he rode away.

He cast a lovely view in his riding attire. The tight buckskins clinging to the curves of his muscular thighs and buttocks. She swallowed and turned back to her own horse where Owen was waiting with his brows raised.

“What?” she asked defensively. “I was just seeing him off, as is proper.”

“You were definitely seeing him, but I wouldna say it was proper at all.”

“He is a handsome man.” That was a generic statement if she’d ever heard one. He was much more than handsome. He was smart and funny.

“I don’t like him.” Owen grumped as he shook out the skirt to her riding habit to help her hook it back into place.

“You don’t like anyone.”

“I like men who respect woman and don’t ogle them as they mount a horse.”

“The duke certainly wasn’t ogling me.” She rolled her eyes because it couldn’t be helped and only Owen would see.

“I saw him do that very thing.”

“I think you are mistaken. Why would a man be interested in a woman while she is wearing breeches?” As soon as the question was out, she considered seeing Hale in his tight-fitted breeches and thought she might know the answer.

“Men don’t need much reason to appreciate a woman’s backside, especially one that is at eye level and not covered by a loose gown. You take my meaning.”

“I see.” She fitted the silly scrap of a hat back on her head and got up in the uncomfortable contraption society called a saddle.

“Why are you smiling? I told you that so you’d be warned, not happy about it.” Owen shook his head. “You should take care with men like him.”

She frowned at the man who was like a second father, and in many ways knew her better than the man who sired her.

“Do you think there may ever be a man who shows interest in me that you might like?”

He took a second or two to consider her question before his face pulled up in a frown. “Nay. Never.”

At least he was honest.

Upon returning back at Tomison House, Gia tended to Arabella herself as she liked to do, despite the chance at a lecture from Lydia on the things proper young ladies did not do.