Redemption of the Duke by Gayle Callen Page B

and she wanted to wince—and she wanted to stare at him
     in surprise. His mother did that for her, and perhaps that was worse.
    Lord Shenstone laughed. “I did not know being a servant was such a bad thing.”
    “I cannot imagine you wanting to be a servant,” Lady Sophia said, lifting her chin.
    “You are correct, of course, Lady Sophia,” Lord Shenstone answered, bowing to her.
     He turned to Faith. “Forgive me if I offended you, Miss Cooper, although I’m still
     uncertain how I did so.”
    She glanced at Lady Duncan, who did not seem like she would restrict anything Faith
     would say. To Lord Shenstone, Faith answered, “I simply feel sorry for your cousins,
     my lord, since you do not seem to hold them in high esteem.”
    “That’s very true,” he agreed, “but since you have not met them, you cannot understand,
     can you?”
    She nodded. “Then perhaps I am simply sensitive on behalf of companions and women
     everywhere.”
    Lord Shenstone studied her, that condescending smile still in place.
    “I like the way you think, Miss Cooper,” said Lady Duncan. “You and I will do so well
     together. Now tell me, Adam, what were you two gentlemen about today? Fencing?”
    “Of course,” Lord Shenstone answered. “And though I used to occasionally defeat him
     in our misbegotten youth, no more. Now it is like taking lessons from a master.”
    The duke shrugged. “I have simply had more practice.”
    He made it sound like he’d been sparring genial friends with wooden swords or buttoned
     points all these years, instead of opponents trying to kill him. He’d once been like
     Lord Shenstone, she suspected, a ne’er-do-well, a scoundrel—she found herself wondering
     how he’d first taken the reality of the army.
    “It is called skill, Rothford,” Lord Shenstone said genially. “I promise I will try
     to give you decent competition again someday.” He glanced past their little group.
     “Today is truly the day to run into acquaintances on Regent Street. I do believe my
     vicar is in town.”
    Lady Sophia gave a little gasp and turned her head away with a blush.
    Faith understood Lord Shenstone to mean the vicar of his local village, but she wasn’t
     sure about Lady Sophia’s reaction.
    “Do you know this man, my lady?” Faith asked softly.
    “He is Mr. Percy.” Lady Sophia saw her brother watching, pressed her lips together,
     and said nothing more.
    Then Faith saw the vicar in question and understood immediately. He was a handsome
     young man, plainly dressed but with a lively step. His chestnut hair gleamed in the
     sun when he doffed his hat, and his dimples winked into view as he smiled upon spying
     their party. By the time he slowed to a stop, he’d concealed those dimples, as with
     a respectful expression he bowed to the duke.
    “Your Grace, the pleasant morning has only increased upon seeing your party.”
    “Mr. Percy,” the duke said, with a brief nod.
    “And what are you doing so far from Lichfield?” Lord Shenstone asked.
    Mr. Percy smiled. “I am visiting my sister, my lord. Do not fear, I will be back home
     for the Sunday service.”
    “You are always the model of duty, Mr. Percy,” Lady Sophia said.
    There was an interesting edge to her voice that had Faith giving her a second glance.
    Mr. Percy bowed to her. “Lady Sophia, I always wish to do what is expected of me.”
    “Of course.” Her voice grew even cooler, and she suddenly took Frances’s hand and
     drew the little girl toward the window of a pastry shop.
    Faith saw the duke watching his sister, brows slightly lowered, even as Mr. Percy
     gave his regards to the other ladies of the party. He took his leave, and his last
     regretful glance was for Lady Sophia, who only gave a distant nod, then ignored her
     brother’s direct stare.
    A young woman emerged from a nearby shop, her head turned away as she spoke with a
     companion, and ran directly into the duke.
    “Oh dear!” she cried.
    The duke grabbed both