The Duke Diaries by Sophia Nash Page A

to several beached boats at the sandy edge of the lake. A small boathouse was adjacent.
    “Let them wonder the former,” he said, leaning closer. Under the brim of her hat, a tendril of her dark brown hair fluttered in the light breeze. “Do we really care what they think?” A part of him filled with ill-ease at his actions. He guided her toward the deeply shaded corner of the boathouse, nearest the lake’s edge. She was hidden from the vast crowd on the rise behind them, but he was in plain view.
    “I just don’t understand why you are behaving so gallantly and against your nature,” she insisted. “It isn’t like you. Since when did you become so determined to play the knight in shining armor to the damsel in distress?”
    Since when, indeed .
    “It will all blow over, you’ll see,” she insisted. “You know it,” she continued in a whisper.
    Slowly, ever so slowly, he lowered his head until his forehead touched the rim of her hat. “Of course it might in time. Anything is possible, if not likely. But, you see, I find I cannot deprive myself of a chance to marry into the Fitzroy clan.”
    “I refuse to live a lie,” she insisted, not meeting his eyes. Her dark lashes were fanned against the perfection of her smooth, even complexion.
    “My dear V, everyone lives lies of some sort. Until the day someone devises a way for others to see another’s true thoughts, we will all of us only see truth in the privacy of our own minds.”
    “Thank God for that,” she murmured.
    It was the last thing he could have imagined she would utter. “We are of like mind, I see.”
    “Perhaps,” she replied, turning serious. “More importantly, I’ve always believed the character of a person can only truly be discerned by their actions when no one is watching.”
    “Ah,” he murmured, leaning his arm against the corner of the boathouse and moving even closer to her. “I don’t need to spy on you or your thoughts to know you are a good and honest person.”
    “Not always.” Her dark hard-to-read eyes finally met his. “I have many flaws—some more severe than others—like everyone else. Actually, I know of only one person whose flaws I’ve never been able to perceive.”
    “And who is this paragon?”
    “A loyal friend who has more courage, character, intelligence, and innate good sense than anyone else in Christendom and beyond. She is also the most stunningly beautiful creature alive.”
    “Lady Mary Haverty?”
    She shook her head. “But Mary is in some ways like her.”
    Lord, it was this way she had—of always saying the unexpected—that surprised him. She would not behave as the other ladies he had known, who drew attention to their own sterling attributes. “She sounds like a product of your vivid imagination, V. No such lady exists.” His smile belied his words. “So I don’t believe you.”
    “Have you ever trusted anyone, Rory?” She tilted her head and gazed at his face. “Have you ever loved someone with all your heart . . . Unreservedly?”
    “So serious, suddenly.” Bold honesty never led to anything good. “By the by, the ribbon on that, ahem, hat, matches your eyes to perfection. But, why in the name of God of all bonnets are you wearing grapes and kumquats on one side and a trio of crows on the other side?”
    “They are lovebirds, you idiot. And everyone knows fruits on hats are all the rage right now.”
    “But not an entire fruit stall. Are those violets tucked in back?”
    She studied him silently for a moment. “I’ve never known anyone so capable of managing conversations via diversion, wit, or flattery. The last it has not been my privilege to ever hear from your lips, I might add. But, I would advise you to save your breath, for I think I’ve proven I’m quite immune to your ways. Now then, are you going to answer my question or not?”
    “The love question?”
    “Precisely.”
    “Why are ladies uniformly infatuated with the notion of love?”
    She studied him