Page 38 of Love, the Duke
Though Ophelia tried not to read anything into his words, her stomach tightened at how intimate his words sounded. It felt as if butterflies fluttered in her chest as an errant wind fluttered a lock of hair that had found freedom from her chignon across her face. She brushed it away from her forehead and tucked it behind her ear. “I have things to do, Your Grace.”
“Do they have anything to do with the letter?” He nodded toward the parchment with the broken seal.
“Everything I do has to do with that.” She took a deep breath. “Why are you here?”
The duke shifted his stance and dropped his arms to his sides. “I’ve brought you something.”
She peered around him but saw no evidence supporting his eager claim. Both hands were free, and she was sure he wasn’t holding anything when he came through the gate.
Scoffing at his declaration, she quipped, “Where is it?”
“I couldn’t be sure you were out here alone for my unplanned call, so I saw no reason to bring it into the garden for your mother or someone else to scrutinize or to examine my motives.”
Curiosity loomed in Ophelia. In an even tone, she said, “You’ve piqued my interest and my frustration this afternoon, Your Grace. And now you are trying my patience. If you, indeed, came bearing a gift, where is your offering?”
Speaking in an amused tone, he answered, “I have none for the church, Ophelia. Other than begging its pardon for all my misdeeds of the past.”
“Oh, for heaven’s mercy, Your Grace. I find myself on the precipice of a headache caused by more worries than anyone should have to endure, and no patience left for your antics. And certainly, this is not the day for you to add to my distress by calling me Ophelia. What if Maman heard you or someone else?”
“What if she did? She wouldn’t say a word. No one ever corrects a duke.” He flashed a small, innocent grin. “It’s a duke’s prerogative to decide when it’s time to be on familiar terms and give a person permission to relax.” He brushed her concern aside so easily. “We are at that point now, Ophelia. I am Hurst.”
Surprise glinted through her. She didn’t think she would ever understand men who were not like her brother. He would never have been so familiar with a young lady. Not even one he’d known for years. But Ophelia was learning new rules. This one she could abide by. There were times she had no desire to be so formal with the duke.
He walked closer to her and gently said, “Say it.”
She held her breath for a moment before answering, “Hurst.”
“See how easy that was?” Before she became aware of his intent, the duke took her hand and began to walk. “Come with me. I left what I brought you beside the garden gate.”
At his touch, shivers cascaded through her entire body and she realized she’d never held a man’s hand unless he was helping her into or out of a carriage, and most of the time that was her brother and they had on gloves. Like hers, Hurst’s hand was bare, but also snugly warm and full of strength. Yet so gentle sizzling tingles raced through her. She had to restrain herself from allowing her grip to match his.
She could hardly think, much less make her legs work properly and walk alongside him.
Gathering control of her senses, she looked over at him and declared, “This is highly improper, Your Grace.”
“My name is Hurst. You must get used to using it, Ophelia.”
“It will take time.”
“I have plenty of that.” He smiled. “Would you have come with me without asking me ten questions if I had simply requested you walk with me?”
“I can’t speculate on that because I don’t know what my options are, but you wouldn’t have had reason to worry about Maman’s scrutiny if you had a nosegay or another box of those delicious confections in your hands.” She finished by giving him a tart expression, which caused him to smile.
“So, you indulged in the sweet treats I brought to your mother the other afternoon?”
“Of course, and Maman didn’t have to insist.”
He chuckled. “If I thought flowers and confections were all it would take to make you happy, I would have brought them today. But that’s not what I have for you, Ophelia.”
How could the sound of her name on his lips evoke the idea of kissing him? She brushed the anticipation of it away before it took root and got her in trouble once again.
Just before they reached the gate, there was a vine-covered archway. He let go of her hand and said, “Stop here. One moment.”
He was barely outside the gate before stepping back inside and closing it behind him. They were sequestered in a narrow portion of the hedge and hidden from view of the house or street.
The duke held a musty-looking tome with gold lettering. At first, she was perplexed; then she held her breath as he held it out to her.
“You said you needed this. I hope it makes you happy.”
