The Regency Season: Passionate Promises. Ann Lethbridge

kind,’ the companion murmured with a quick nervous glance at his face.

      ‘I am grateful you were able to indulge us this afternoon and become one of our party or we would have had to cancel,’ Freddy continued. ‘Since I understand Lady Mooreshead had another engagement.’

      ‘One of long standing,’ Minette said.

      Long-standing as of the day before yesterday. It mattered not one whit who accompanied Minette, provided he had an opportunity to spend time in her company and convince her that she desired to be wed. As long as those occasions were in places where he wouldn’t be led any further astray by his lust for the woman. Uncontrolled desire came with unfortunate consequences, like children.

      ‘Are we ready?’

      ‘Nicky wondered if we should put up a picnic basket,’ Minette said.

      ‘All looked after.’

      Minette gave him a brilliant smile, and he found himself wanting to nip at her full bottom lip as a reminder to keep that smile only for him. Damn it all, when had he ever been possessive about a woman?

      Not with any other woman. The thought echoed in his mind. He decided to ignore it. Their engagement wasn’t about possession or about passion and it would be wrong to let her think it was anything more. It would be not only dishonourable but cruel. He’d been acquainted with the cruelty of false hope all his life.

      He helped the ladies into his carriage, seating the Sparshott party facing forward and Minette next to him on the opposite side.

      ‘Oh,’ said Miss Bernice, clearly dismayed. ‘I should change places with Miss Rideau. It is not right for me to face forward.’

      ‘Nonsense,’ Minette said. ‘I understand you do not travel well.’

      ‘You are too kind,’ the governess said, ‘but I feel I really should insist.’

      Freddy looked down his nose at the young woman in his best imitation of duke bored to death. ‘I can assure you I have no ungentlemanly intentions towards my fiancée, Miss Bernice.’

      The poor woman gasped.

      ‘Freddy,’ Minette said admonishingly. ‘Take no notice, Miss Bernice. He is putting you to the blush because he is trying to be nice to you.’ She gazed up at him. ‘Isn’t that so?’

      ‘When did you become an expert on my intentions?’ Then he smiled at the governess. ‘Miss Rideau is correct. But you can blame her for my consideration. When she wrote to tell me of your acceptance of my invitation, she mentioned your affliction. And while it may be more proper for you to sit beside me in the polite world, I prefer you not be made unwell, with all its attendant difficulties.’

      ‘Enough, Freddy,’ Minette said. She smiled at Miss Bernice. ‘Please, make yourself comfortable, ma’am. It is only a very short journey and I will not speak of our unusual arrangement if you will not.’

      Lady Priscilla beamed. ‘Poor, dear Bernie. She really is the worst of travellers. And she is very grateful for your kindness.’

      The woman gave up with good grace. ‘You are very kind, Your Grace. Thank you.’

      ‘Have you ever attended a cricket match, Miss Rideau?’ Lady Priscilla asked.

      ‘I played once,’ Minette said. ‘On the lawn at Meak one summer. I have to admit I had trouble understanding the rules.’

      ‘I expect His Grace will instruct you,’ Miss Bernice said.

      ‘Will you, Freddy?’ Minette asked, her eyes full of laughter.

      ‘I think between us, Lady Priscilla, who has three brothers, and myself, we should be able to make things clear.’

      ‘Three brothers?’ Minette said.

      ‘I know,’ Lady Priscilla said with a sigh. ‘Such a trial. They are so overprotective.’

      ‘Were they concerned about you coming with me today?’ Freddy asked, the darkness inside him rising up.

      ‘Oh, no. They trust Bernie to keep me in line, don’t they, dearest?’

      The little woman shoved her glasses up her nose, looking terribly unsure.

      If they thought a timid companion could handle him, Freddy thought grimly, they were idiots. Which they weren’t. He’d met the Sparshott twins and their older brother. He had no doubt at all that he’d find them at Lord’s Cricket Ground, glowering at him in case he put a foot wrong with their sister.

      The carriage pulled up, and he jumped down. ‘This way, ladies. I have bespoken chairs for us.’

      Being a duke carried responsibility, but it also had advantages he had, up to now, not utilised. Partly because the opportunity had not arisen, given his current line of work, and partly because he always felt like an impostor. A fraud. No matter what his mother thought, he hated having inherited his brother’s title. He’d been set for a career in the army but once he had become heir to the title, his father had made sure no colonel would accept him. Losing one son was enough. If it had been because he’d been worried about Freddy, it might have mollified him, but it had only been out of concern for the succession. Mother, on the other hand, would have been very happy to send him off to war, never to return.

      Knowing that, if not for Gabe’s offer of employment he might have enlisted as a common soldier, he’d hated the ducal duties so much. The paperwork. The political manoeuvring. The criticism when he failed to live up to his brother’s memory.

      He shut the door on those useless thoughts. On the past. As time had progressed he’d come to understand that he would never be forgiven for being the one left alive. He’d learned to enclose his pain and guilt in a layer of ice.

      He was Falconwood. For as long as he lived. And awaiting him and his guests were tables and chairs set beneath a shady tree with attendant footmen. ‘You should have a good view from here,’ he said as he seated the ladies. ‘Champagne?’

      ‘Yes, please,’ Minette and Lady Priscilla said together.

      ‘Oh, dear,’ Miss Bernice said. ‘I really don’t think—’

      ‘How about tea for you?’ He gave her a gentle smile.

      Her frown turned into an expression of heartfelt gratitude. ‘Thank you.’

      He signalled to the footman, who smartly went about the business of catering to the ladies’ wishes.

      ‘I don’t see The Beau,’ Minette said, scanning the field.

      ‘No,’ Freddy said. ‘Hampshire is at bat.’

      She wrinkled her nose, staring at the two men at the crease in what he was becoming to think of as a kittenish expression. It made him want to kiss her every time she did it.

      ‘He is playing for Hampshire county cricket team and he is in the clubhouse,’ Lady Priscilla elaborated further. ‘Only two people are at bat at any one time.’

      Minette seemed satisfied with the explanation and sat back to watch, with the occasional explanation from either Lady Priscilla or himself when terms like ‘bowled’ and ‘stumped’ came up.

      The buzz of insects, the crack of the bat, the shouts of ‘Huzzah’ and polite applause of the ladies washed over him in a wave of nostalgia. It was such a familiar scene. He and Reggie had played on the local village team that last year. Happy memories he hadn’t recalled for years.

      And if it hadn’t been for his engagement, he might never have experienced them again, so focussed had he become on the darkness of what he did. He glanced at his betrothed, at her lively, beautiful face as she listened to something Lady Priscilla was explaining, and felt wonder at the feeling of the rightness of the day. Perhaps he could have this for the rest of his life.

      Deserved or not.

      Once he had served the ladies, the footman