Dukes By the Dozen

His young lady was awaiting an answer, so he flicked a glance to where Duke now pounced on some poor insect who’d chosen the unluckiest time to crawl by. “It does seem to be a fine idea.”

He wasn’t positive, but he thought her shoulders drooped a bit. Oh, she was interested. And she’d been hoping for a bit more encouragement.

He shouldn’t, of course. Regardless of his possibly impending dukedom, he had myriad things to do that were not walking in the park with a young lady, even if she was so lovely that she’d invaded his dreams last night as well as most of his waking thoughts since he’d met her.

And yet…

He returned his gaze to hers and lowered his voice. “I, too, am fond of my exercise—about this time every day, in fact. And I do believe Hyde Park will be the perfect place for my morning constitutionals whilst I am in town.”

She didn’t do nearly as good a job as he had at suppressing a smile of her own, which sent a small thrill coursing through him.

This was foolishness. He should take his leave, he knew. He had much to do at the Old Bailey, and the Earl of Montgomery was expected again this afternoon. But he simply didn’t want to go.

It wasn’t just the girl. It was this time, this in-betweenness. This beautiful creature flirted with him just because she wished to. If he were to become the duke, this might be the last time someone wanted to flirt with

him and not ‘the duke!’.

He would hold on to that as long as he possibly could.

“Whilst you are in town?” she asked, shaking him from his thoughts. “Are you not from London, then?”

His chest tightened at her question, but he shook his head. News about Albemarle’s heir presumptive was likely already circulating around the members of society who still remained in the City. He’d wager that his home and career as a barrister were already fodder over tea and sherry. He didn’t wish for that business to encroach here. Not with her. He’d have to be careful what he said.

“No. I’m just visiting for a time,” he said.

“A holiday, then?” she asked, and damned if she didn’t sound disappointed that he might be returning home soon.

“No. I’m here for an extended period, for…” He thought a moment at how best to phrase it honestly, but vaguely. “For work.”

Her black brows inched toward each other in thought.

He realized his vagueness only served to confuse her.

“I mean to say, I’m being considered for a…a promotion. Of sorts.”

Damnation. That wasn’t much better.

She nodded at him, but he could tell she didn’t really understand. And why would she? Work, at least as it applied to a profession, wasn’t a part of her sphere.

Neither, for that matter, was a man like him.

And they both knew it.

Maxwell sighed. More unspoken weight in the air between him and a woman whose company he enjoyed.

It wouldn’t do. While he’d still have to hold much back, he wanted his time with this lady to be unburdened—insomuch as it could be. So he’d just come out with it.

“It hasn’t slipped my attention that in two meetings now, neither of us has offered so much as a first name in introduction.”

Her green eyes widened at his bluntness, and her cheeks bloomed a delicate pink. “I…I—”

He held up a hand. “You needn’t explain. I’m well aware of how the world works. I understand that you have many reasons for keeping your identity to yourself—one of which is that an association with someone like me would be unacceptable.” He was, after all, a commoner, as far as she knew. And a complete stranger.

Her bow-shaped lips firmed in a disgruntled frown. “Unacceptable to some, perhaps.”

Her fierce tone reminded him once again of Boadicea—this time about to take on the unfairness of societal rules—but then she sighed as well.

“But, yes. My family would not approve.” Determination glinted in her eyes. “That won’t stop me from bringing Duke here every morning.”

Max nodded, understanding.

His young lady was enjoying her own bit of in-betweenness. If she truly had been ordered to ‘land a duke’ by her parents, he might be her tiny secret rebellion.

Oh, the irony.

Of the double-edged variety. If he didn’t become the duke, he’d have no chance with someone like her.

He also had the distinct feeling that she could make him wish for a dukedom he didn’t otherwise want.

He should run far and fast and not venture near Hyde Park again.

Yet even the thought kicked off his own tiny rebellion inside his chest.

“If we’re going to continue to meet, I must call you something,” he said. “Thinking of you as ‘the brave enchantress who so charmed me that I leapt into the Serpentine for her’ might be nice, but it’s rather cumbersome.”

The combination of blush and utterly feminine smile that crossed her face shot heat straight through him.

Duke trotted back toward them then, giving him an idea.

“Shall I call you Duchess? After all, you are Duke’s mistress.”

Her smile pursed, and she gave a quick shake of her head. “Never Duchess.”

Max wanted to kick himself. Of course not Duchess. The reminder would intrude on her in-betweenness. His as well.