The Duke's Last Hunt by Rosanne E. Lortz Page B

alongside them, and there on her side of the phaeton was Lord Henry Rowland, doffing his beaver cordially.
    “It looks like the road is wide enough for three here,” he said, smiling broadly and reining in his horse to keep pace with Rufus’ pair.
    The duke slid over a little so his leg was no longer touching hers. “What the deuce are you doing, Henry?”
    Eliza bit her lip. She was sure her mother would rebuke the duke if she ever heard him use such language.
    “Keeping you company, of course.”
    “I already have someone to keep me company,” said Rufus, his eyes glittering.
    “Poor soul,” said Lord Henry. He gave Eliza a wink.
    “I did not expect to see you in church, Lord Henry,” said Eliza.
    “Yes, well, after I saw you in the hallway this morning, it occurred to me that it might be beneficial to attend the service.”
    Eliza’s mouth fell open in disbelief. Was he actually alluding to the embarrassing incident with the maid that she had witnessed before breakfast? The man had no shame!
    “Do you really mean to inflict yourself on us for the week?” demanded Rufus. His horses strained at the short rein he was giving them.
    “Why not?” retorted Lord Henry. “It’s not as if I have any sort of occupation to draw me away.”
    Eliza sensed a long history behind this fencing match. Why were the two brothers at odds? She was not vain enough to suppose that it had to do with her own person.
    “Then send up to London for some proper riding clothes,” said Rufus. “I’ll not have you wearing some patched-up, three-year-old buckskins when we’re following the hounds.”
    “Never fear,” said Lord Henry, rolling his eyes at his brother. “I shan’t spoil your hunt with my outmoded wardrobe. Will you be riding out with us on Wednesday, Miss Malcolm?”
    “Oh, I…I don’t know,” faltered Eliza. Up until this point, she had not realized that she might be expected to trail along with the duke during his favorite pastime. She had no illusions about her own riding ability. Her mother had ordered her a riding habit for her first season, but she had not worn it more than once, and it was now woefully out of date.
    Eliza’s insides lurched. Was the duke expecting her to join him?
    “Of course you will ride with us,” said Rufus. “My mother and sister always do.”
    So. It was settled. Eliza’s right hand clutched the side of the phaeton. Rufus seemed not to notice her discomfiture, but from underneath a veil of eyelashes, she saw Lord Henry’s dark eyes look at her questioningly.
    They were nearing the house now. Rufus turned the horses sharply as they entered the circular drive. “I hope our little country church was to your satisfaction, Miss Malcolm?”
    “Oh, yes, indeed,” said Eliza. “I thought Reverend Ansel a particularly gifted speaker.”
    Rufus looked at her with curiosity, as if he thought she might be shamming her approval. “I fear you’ll find little to amuse you on Sunday afternoons at Harrowhaven.”
    “But Adele has knocked together some sort of amusement for tomorrow night,” said Lord Henry brightly. “Some of the young people from the local gentry families, I believe.”
    Rufus snorted. “How tedious!”
    “For you, maybe,” said Lord Henry, “but Miss Malcolm might enjoy it.”
    “Oh, I’m sure I shall,” said Eliza. She smiled wanly. Any activity would be preferable to one that required her to mount a horse.

8
    I t had been a quiet Sunday following their return from church. Lady Malcolm had a very strict view of Sabbath keeping, and she and her daughter spent the afternoon in the drawing room, reading aloud the sermons of Thomas Watson and others.
    “Poor Eliza,” said Adele, tiptoeing past the door with Stephen in tow, on their way out to the garden. “Henry, you should go in and distract her mother so she can escape.”
    “I’m afraid Miss Malcolm already thinks me impious enough,” said Henry with a shake of his head. “Besides, I think I might do