Dukes By the Dozen полностью

He had almost strolled past a booth with two elderly women selling lace and ribbons when the sound of light, musical laughter stopped him. Two females, one with silvery blonde hair and dressed like a lady, although not in the latest fashion. The other looked like every lady’s maid he’d ever seen, dressed primly in a dark gown. The women were inspecting the lace.

“This is extremely fine work,” the lady said. “Mannering, I think it would look lovely on my blue gown.”

“I agree, my lady.” Mannering held the piece of lace up, inspecting it. “It’s just what we need to make it special.”

“How much do you think we require?” the lady asked.

Mannering measured the lace with her arms as a guide. “If you like, you could also get some for your mother.”

“What a wonderful idea!” The lady smiled. “I can give it to her for”—a faint line appeared between her brows—“Her birthday and Christmas are too far away.” Then she smiled, a smile with no artifice, no calculation. Very much like Lillian had smiled, although different, too. It was the smile of an unaffected lady, not the child Lillian had been. “I shall just give it to her. Those are the best gifts.”

“That is a lovely idea, my lady,” one of the old women said.

Was the lady from here? She turned just enough for him to see that her brows and eyelashes were darker than her hair. One did not see that often in England. It was more common in Germany and Holland. Yet she was obviously English.

The lady and her maid concluded the purchase and went to another booth, where the lady found something else she needed and something else she could give to another. This time, as if she knew he was watching her, she glanced in his direction. Their eyes met for a mere second. It was long enough for him to see they were almost turquoise, the color of the sea in the Greek Islands. Then she blushed and dropped her gaze.

Kendal was entranced.

Attending the house party held by the Duchess of Hull, he’d met many ladies from the surrounding area, but he had never seen her before. She definitely appeared old enough to be out. As she was a lady, her father must be an earl or above. He could swear that the duchess had told him all the ladies from around that area of Yorkshire had attended the ball she’d given . . . That was it. Since crossing the river Humber, he had been in Lincolnshire. Hull’s estate was not far, but one would require a barge to go to the ball, and back if the guest did not spend the night at the estate. Was that why she had not attended?

Kendal kept up with her, stopping at booths and buying things he had no real use for. He supposed he’d find someone to whom to give the stuff. She moved like she was floating on air instead of walking on dirt and grass. He had no idea what he’d say once he got near enough. Or how he would find an excuse to speak to a lady to whom he had not been introduced. He caught her eyes several more times, and each time she glanced away and blushed charmingly. Bit by bit, he worked his way to the same booth she was at.

“What an interesting fan.” The lady held it up for her maid to see. “The art is lovely.”

“My son brought it back from Paris, my lady,” the middle-aged woman said.

“Oh, my.” The lady’s eyes widened. Soon he would have to give her a name. He could not keep calling her “the lady” or “she” in his mind. “I have never seen anything from Paris.”

The tone of her voice was low and extremely pleasing.

Kendal tried to focus on the frippery. It could have come from Paris. More likely that than from around here, since it would have been a source of pride in the area and would have been claimed as being from here. “A fine piece.”

Her eyes flew to his and just as quickly turned aside. Damn. What an oaf he was. Naturally, she would have been instructed not to speak to men she didn’t know.

“Forgive me.” He bowed, but that was ill-advised as well. Where had his manners gone?

“Lady Thalia, there you are.” The Duchess of Hull bustled up. “We have wondered—we have been curious as to how you are enjoying the fair.”

“Vastly, Your Grace.”

Lady Thalia, named after one of the Three Graces. The name suited her.

She glanced at her purchases. “I shall require a separate coach to carry everything back.”

“I would say your day has been extremely productive.”

The duchess looked at him, and he bowed. When in doubt, always bow. “Your Grace.”

She peered at him for a bit, then shook her head, as if she didn’t know how he’d come to be there. Granted, he had not traveled with the rest of the group. Her husband had wanted to talk to him, but the duchess knew he would come. At least he thought she did. “Lady Thalia,” she finally said, “may I present the Duke of Kendal?”

Her rosy lips formed a perfect “O.” This time she peered at him without any of her previous bashfulness. “Yes, if you please.”