“I was not about to dismiss you, ma’am,” he said, “though it was a good answer. What was the purpose of the painting lesson?”
“I was going to describe Corinthian columns and pediments,” she said, glancing out to the pavilion, “and point out how everything is reversed in a reflection. But your daughter is five years old, your grace. Mainly I planned to allow her to enjoy the fresh air and to experiment with using her paints.”
Her chin rose stubbornly. Let him reprimand her if he chose. The child had far too little spontaneity in her life.
“Another good answer,” he said. “Do you specialize in them?”
There was no reply to such a question.
“I suppose you have noticed,” he said, “that the temple is an exact replica in miniature of the central block of the house?”
“Except for the horseshoe steps,” she said, turning to gaze across the lake below them. “Is it the same inside too?”
“Very like,” he said, “even to the painting on the inside of the dome. But there is no gallery in the temple. It was built to be picturesque, as was everything else in the park, but it is used as a music pavilion during fêtes and garden parties. And will be used by the orchestra at the ball in three days’ time. You have been told that you may attend?”
“Yes, your grace,” she said.
He turned to talk to his daughter. “Let’s walk down to the water’s edge,” he said. “The pavilion looks more imposing from there. And the bridge can be seen off in the distance, and something of the cascades. Carry the puppy, Pamela. She will never walk so far.”
“But it is time for us to go home,” Fleur said.
Dark eyes were turned on her. One lifted eyebrow. “Who says so?” he said.
Fleur felt herself flush. “Mrs. Clement will be expecting us, your grace,” she said.
“Nanny?” he said. “Then Nanny will just have to wait, won’t she?”
Pamela went clattering down the slope to the lake without taking the path that curved around to it at a less steep gradient. The duke held out a hand to help Fleur down.
And she was in that tunnel again, darkness and cold air rushing at her. All she saw was the hand, the long beautiful fingers that had slid down between her thighs and pushed them wide and that had then opened her firmly, readying her for penetration.
He lowered his hand and turned from her. “Just take it slowly,” he said, “unless you are planning to take a swim.”
And somehow she brought herself out of the tunnel and forced her legs to move so that she could follow him down the slope to the path below, where the puppy was bounding in circles, happy to be on firmer ground.
Another hour passed before they returned to the house. They strolled by the lake and climbed the bank again at another place. The duke described the various prospects to Fleur in a far more knowledgeable manner than Mrs. Laycock had done. The park had been laid out by William Kent—“No relation,” the duke added—for his grace’s grandfather, replacing the straight avenues and the large flat parterre gardens that had preceded it.
“I believe my grandmother was outraged,” he said. “She was a very proper eighteenth-century lady. She believed that the larger one’s formal garden, the greater one’s consequence.”
He carried the puppy for much of the way, smoothing the soft down over its nose with one finger as it nestled against his chest and fell asleep. And he handed the dog to Fleur before chasing a shrieking Pamela across one wide lawn and wrestling her to the grass, where she lay laughing and flailing her arms and legs.
Both father and daughter looked somewhat rumpled by the time they stepped onto the terrace before the house.
“Will Mama’s guests be here soon, Papa?” Lady Pamela asked.
“The day after tomorrow, unless any of them are delayed,” he said.
“Will I be able to see the ladies?” she asked.
“Do you want to?”
“May I?” she begged. “Mama will say no, I know she will.”
“Perhaps Mama is in the right of it,” he said, releasing her hand and reaching for the puppy, which Fleur was carrying. “They will not be ladies you would wish to meet, Pamela.”
“But …” she said.
“Time to go in,” he said, looking up into Fleur’s eyes, his own hard as his hand brushed against hers beneath the puppy’s stomach, and she snatched it away and took a hasty step backward. “I shall return Tiny to the stables.”
“Oh,” Fleur said. “We have forgotten the easel and paints. I will have to run back for them.”
“I shall send a servant,” the duke said impatiently. “Don’t trouble yourself, ma’am.”