“Can you imagine the duke on a horse without being dressed head to foot in gold lace?” Eleanor said mockingly. She glanced at him for a split second, but he felt it like a caress. “Your father takes so long to get dressed that the sun would be going down by the time he emerged from his chamber.”
She had said just the right thing. Villiers watched Tobias’s grin get bigger. He was a fool to hope that it was the words your father that made the boy crack a smile. Tobias was too serious.
He leaned back against the balustrade again and deliberately crossed his arms, because it made his muscles look even larger and he had the feeling that Eleanor liked muscles. Thank God, there was no way that Tobias could see the tent in his towel from below.
He moved his legs apart a bit, just in case she wanted to take another look. Obviously nothing would shock the woman.
“Am I to understand that you think I couldn’t be ready in less time than you?” he demanded.
She didn’t look at him. “Where’s Lisette?” she called down to Tobias.
Villiers moved away from the edge of the balcony. He didn’t mind showing some skin to Eleanor. But Lisette was a gently bred lady, with a kind of innocence that made her eyes shine with a deep-down purity.
Eleanor was leaning over the balustrade now, bantering with Tobias. Her bottom was very round under her thick robe. She was the antithesis of innocent. She made a man long to wake her up early enough so they could step out on the balcony with the first dawn light—
He wrenched his mind away again and readjusted his towel. This was becoming painful. It was rather fascinating to imagine how Eleanor became the woman she was, given that her mother seemed altogether wedded to convention.
Whereas Lisette, who seemed to be living more or less without a chaperone, was clearly untouched by the baser passions of the body.
“Women take much more time to dress than do men,” he told Eleanor, deciding that he ought to give her one more chance to look him over before he returned to his chamber.
“You’re not most men,” she said flatly. She did turn to face him, but her eyes stayed on his face rather than dropping lower. There was just a tinge of rosy color in her cheeks. Good.
He widened his stance again, daring her to look down. “You’re right. I’m not like other men,” he said.
Eleanor choked with laughter. “Because your sense of consequence is bigger.”
“And the rest of me too,” he said, wondering if he’d lost his mind. The Duke of Villiers never traded bawdy quips on a balcony. He never—ever—flirted.
“That remains to be seen,” Eleanor said saucily.
He bit back a grin. The Duke of Villiers didn’t smile in the morning. He squinted at the sky. “What time is it, anyway?”
“Don’t look so afraid. I assure you that the sun isn’t made out of green cheese,” she said to him. “I suppose it’s around eight o’clock.”
“Eight!” He shuddered.
“Leopold!” came a clear voice from the lawn. “Would you like to join us on an excursion?”
Villiers looked cautiously over the balcony, trying to keep his body out of sight. Lisette was the very picture of an English lady. Curls crested on her head like a frothy wave; her eyes shone brightly; she was wearing an enchanting riding habit.
“Hello!” she called, waving her hand at him. “Time to rise and shine, Leopold!”
“Yes, Leopold,” Eleanor said in a low, mocking voice. “Do start to shine, please. I think I saw the rising, but I definitely missed the shining.”
“As you said, there is a great deal of me that remains to be seen,” he said silkily, loving their verbal jousting.
Even though he never engaged in anything as déclassé as a flirtation.
“I’m afraid I can’t join you,” he said, raising his voice as he replied to Lisette.
She pouted. “No! Why on earth not?”
“I plan to pay a visit to the orphanage in Sevenoaks as soon as I am dressed.”
Her mouth formed a perfect rosebud. A confused rosebud. “Why on earth do you need to do that? The orphans will return this afternoon, I assure you. A group of them come every afternoon to work on the play, though now we’ve turned it to a treasure hunt.”
One couldn’t help but admire her devotion to those poor children. But the fact that two of them might be his own made him edgy. Still, he couldn’t figure out exactly how to answer.
Eleanor broke in. “The duke is thinking of sponsoring the orphanage,” she called down to Lisette. “He’s quite charitable, you know. I’ve heard tell that he’s peopled his very own orphanage.”
Tobias snorted, but Lisette’s smile didn’t waver. “I am thinking of doing that as well,” she said earnestly. “Occasionally I have thought that the orphans are too thin, and wondered if they were well cared for. But I am assured that they eat sufficiently. If I had my own orphanage, I would make certain that they were offered only the foods they preferred.”
“So I shall tour the orphanage this morning,” Villiers said.
“We shall come with you!” Lisette said, clapping her hands. “Do you know, I’ve never toured the building? The children simply come to me, whenever I request it. I should like to see their dear little beds.”
“Excellent,” Eleanor said. “We shall all go to the orphanage this morning. Lisette…Tobias.” She walked back into her room without saying goodbye to Villiers, which didn’t sit well with him.
He scowled and didn’t even realize that Lisette was cheerily calling him to meet her in the breakfast room until Eleanor had already left. At least Lisette understood that one didn’t simply turn away from a duke.
He turned to enter his chamber.
“Hey!”
Hey? Could it be that someone was addressing him such? He turned, reluctantly. After all, he knew the voice.
“Do you want me to go to the orphanage and poke around?”
“Poke?” he said, staring down at Tobias. “What on earth would you look around for?”
“I can see what it’s like. I’ve heard stories about that sort of place.”
“Stories about orphanages?” Villiers’s jaw tightened but he pushed the thought away. Of course his children were fine. For one thing, Lisette saw to the orphans’ welfare herself. But Tobias had an awkward eagerness to him, as if he were a setter on a leash. “All right,” he said.
Tobias gave a sharp nod and set off.
“Wait!” Villiers bellowed. And then, feeling very queer to be saying it, he asked: “Have you broken your fast?”
Tobias cast him a look of absolute scorn. “I’m in the nursery,” he said. “I was offered gruel at six this morning.”
“Gruel? They made you eat gruel?”
He gave a sharp burst of laughter. “I don’t eat that! The footman brought me a meat pasty.”
“I hope you tipped him.” Villiers paused. “Do you have any money?”
“No thanks to you,” Tobias said, but without anger. “Ashmole gave me some. I’ll be off now.” And he was gone.
Villiers dressed meditatively, but with speed. In the last month he had gained some experience in dealing with the class of persons who cared for indigent children. With the intent of inspiring awe, if not fear, he chose a riding costume of a deep scarlet, with buttonholes picked out in gold thread. His breeches buttoned tightly to the side of his knee; his hussar buskin boots gleamed, and more importantly, each sported a tassel of French silk. He pulled back his hair and tied it with a scarlet ribbon. Finally he slid on his heavy signet ring and belted on his sword stick.
