Janice Preston - Cinderella And The Duke

Freddie’s brows rose. ‘River water?’ He surveyed Leo’s buckskin breeches, one knee of which was noticeably wet. ‘Dare I ask what you were doing in the river? It is hardly the weather for paddling.’

‘Mr Boyton very kindly rescued my hat.’

‘That is a great deal of kindness for one day,’ Freddie observed. ‘And your hat, dear sister? Might one enquire exactly how it ended up in the river?’

‘Never mind that, now, Freddie. Where is Penny? Mr Boyton needs help removing his boot.’

Rosalind’s brusque dismissal of her brother’s question again set Leo wondering at the relationship between brother and sister. He contemplated his own sons’ reactions if he should speak to them as though they were boys rather than the young men they now were, and he bit back a smile at the likely result. Alex, in particular, would take immediate affront.

‘She is not here. The cook at Foxbourne sent her a message inviting her to raid the herb garden and offering her surplus preserves from her larder. I do not believe I have ever seen her move with such speed. She could be heard muttering about rosemary and pickles as she bobbed up the path.’

Leo remained quiet, observing as brother and sister shared the joke. It was obvious they were close, despite Rosalind’s tendency to take the reins. Freddie appeared an easy-going young man who accepted her assumption of control rather than cause a fuss.

‘Oh...well...it appears I have no choice but to assist you myself, Mr Boyton.’

A blush tinted Rosalind’s cheeks. Was she, like him, remembering their earlier, similar conversation? At the memory of that almost kiss, blood pounded Leo’s veins, pooling in his groin. How long since his body had reacted with such unruly eagerness? She was so near, almost touching him, her scent weaving through his senses...the very air seemed to crackle between them. Freddie would have to be blind not to notice the frisson.

‘Perhaps your brother might help?’

Rosalind’s eyes brimmed with sympathy as she caught her brother’s eye. Freddie’s lips twisted and Leo cursed his own insensitivity.

‘Would that I could,’ he said, after a moment’s fraught silence, his tone suspiciously airy, ‘but with my appalling balance...or lack of it, I should say... I should end up on the floor.’

Rosalind again indicated the chair by the fire.

‘If you would care to sit, sir?’

A gentleman, surely, should at this point decline the offer and be on his way. But Leo was not ready to leave: he was intrigued by both Rosalind and Freddie. He sat.

‘Please raise your leg.’

She was close enough that her scent again wove its enchantment around him. He could hear her breathing, surely faster than it should be? She could not conceal her body’s reactions—she was as affected by their nearness as he. She moved to stand by his extended foot and grasped his boot at the ankle. Leo smiled at her fierce determination as she heaved until the boot came off with a slurp and a splatter of drops on to the flagstone floor. Rosalind looked up and their eyes met. She touched her upper lip with the tip of her tongue and he responded with a surge of lust so powerful he could barely stop himself from reaching for her there and then.

Her blush deepened and her lashes lowered.

‘There. Now, if you care to remove your stocking, sir, I shall hang it by the fire to dry.’

Leo did as he was bid. Freddie’s scowl had returned as he looked from Rosalind to Leo and back again.

‘Do you care to partake of some refreshments whilst your boot dries?’ Rosalind asked. ‘A cup of tea, or perhaps something stronger?’

‘Thank you. Tea would be splendid.’

‘I will fetch the tea caddy and brew the tea,’ Freddie said.

‘There is no need, I can do it.’

Again, Leo caught that flash of irritation from her brother as Rosalind hurried to a door at the other end of the kitchen and then emerged with a caddy and a teapot.

‘Would you show Mr Boyton to the sitting room, please, Freddie? I will bring the tray through when it is ready.’

‘Might I trouble you to remove my other boot, in that case, Mrs Pryce?’

About to add a jest about having to hobble to the sitting room, Leo caught his words, having no wish to add to Freddie’s discomfort and, again, his heart went out to him. How must it feel to a young man to be unable to do the things others took so much for granted?

‘I will find you a pair of slippers to prevent your feet becoming chilled.’ Freddie started towards the door.

Rosalind, who had positioned herself to tug at Leo’s other boot, almost snatched it from his foot. ‘I will do it, Freddie.’ She rushed across the room to forestall him. ‘There is no need for you to struggle up the stairs. If you show Mr Boyton to the sitting room, I will bring the slippers there.’

‘If you would care to follow me, sir?’

Freddie’s wooden expression and voice revealed his resignation. Could Rosalind not see how damaging her cossetting ways were to the young man’s self-esteem? Leo could not doubt it was kindly meant, but was she really so blinkered as not to recognise the effect upon her brother?

Freddie led the way to an over-furnished, old-fashioned sitting room and gestured to one of a pair of chairs by the fire before sitting on the other. Hector, who had followed them, flopped in front of the fire and stretched out on his side with a sigh.

‘You mistook me for my cousin before,’ Leo said, when Freddie seemed disinclined to begin a conversation. ‘I feel it incumbent upon me to apologise for the offence he caused.’

The preoccupied frown lifted from Freddie’s face and he grinned. ‘You do not doubt he caused offence then, sir?’

‘I do not. Quite apart from your reaction upon your first sight of me, I know my cousin and his...shall we say, quite unique way of endearing himself to others.’

The frown returned. ‘I cannot say I am overjoyed at the prospect of having Mr Lascelles as a neighbour.’

‘Was he intolerably rude?’

‘Not quite intolerably. I consider myself something of an expert in the art of exercising tolerance in the face of others’ unthinking comments.’ A smile lit Freddie’s countenance and then was gone. ‘Name-calling cannot, after all, hurt.’

Leo had never believed the truth of that statement. Name-calling, thoughtless comments, sly looks: they could hurt as much as physical pain.

‘I should have anticipated he would discover your sister’s whereabouts after our previous encounter.’

Freddie sat forward. ‘Previous encounter?’

So Rosalind had not told her brother, presumably protecting him.

‘Mrs Pryce did not mention our meeting the other day?’

‘No, she did not. Will you tell me what happened?’

Leo would not patronise the other man by shielding him from the truth. ‘My cousin was, I fear, quite objectionable to your sister. Although, to be fair, we all thought she was perhaps a farmer’s wife or daughter. She was rounding up sheep when we came upon her in the lane.’

‘Ah. Now, she did tell me about that.’

‘My cousin had ridden ahead of the rest of us—’

‘Rest of you? How many?’

‘Four in total. We are visiting for a couple of weeks. Next week we return to London.’

‘Lascelles, too?’

‘As far as I am aware...yes, Lascelles, too. It might set your mind at rest to know he is not a country lover. He purchased Halsdon Manor for its nearness to London, to enjoy the occasional hunting and shooting trip. He is unlikely to pay frequent visits.’

‘I doubt we shall be here much longer anyway,’ Freddie said. ‘What did he say to my sister, Mr Boyton?’

‘I did not hear his precise words, but suffice it to say that when we came upon the two of them your sister had raised a stick to my cousin and your dog appeared on the brink of attack.’