Free June Calvin by The Dukes Desire

by her warm look, Harwood winked at Deborah as he offered her his arm.
    “I cannot think what you mean, sir,” she answered, suddenly very cool. Harwood realized she meant to freeze him out of any flirtatious notions.
    “I refer to the fact that we seem to be having to spend as much time fending off unsuitable partners for ourselves as we spend finding suitable ones for our daughters.”
    Deborah grimaced. “It is an unlooked-for and
most
unwelcome complication.”
    “You must not hesitate to call on me should Morton or any other aspirant to your hand prove to be importunate.” The duke patted her gloved hand tenderly. “I shall stand your friend.”
    Deborah suddenly could not speak, for a flood of contradictory emotions threatened to overwhelm her: gratitude for his friendship; alarm at the heat that his large hand seemed to communicate when he touched her, even though they both wore gloves; an absurd pleasure at his tender treatment; and an inexplicable sense of regret. But no, it couldn’t be regret. Regret for what? She certainly didn’t want anything more from him than friendship.
    Blushing as she had not since the age of eighteen, Deborah bit her lower lip and looked away.
    Harwood studied her averted profile in some puzzlement. Deborah Cornwall was a complicated woman. Her behavior toward him was erratic—sometimes confiding and sometimes cold and stilted—though he had done his best to put her at her ease. She seemed terrified of Morton, too. One would have thought a mature woman with so much natural presence could have easily put that toad in his place.
    The young people had thoughtfully left for them the seat facing forward, and had already fallen into an animated conversation as the duke helped Deborah into the coach. He gave his coachman permission to start, then turned to study the woman at his side.
    It would take awhile to know and understand her, but looking at her profile, and the sad, rather haunted eyes she briefly flicked up to his face and then away again, Harwood decided that she was well worth the time and effort. He crossed one leg over the other and set himself to diverting her with comments upon the passing scene.

Chapter 6
    The pageantry of the military review was very much to Sarah’s and Jennifer’s taste. They exclaimed in awe at the precision movements of the mounted troops. Even a stray dog that took it upon himself to rout this herd of quadrupeds could not break the ranks of steaming horses.
    Sarah was as enthralled as Jennifer. Last season her aunt, who inclined to the bluestocking, had taken her to innumerable lectures and concerts, but not to any of the military reviews. Both girls were flushed with pleasure by the fascinating sights and sounds around them. As the troops fanned out to join their friends and relatives after the parade, Sarah half stood in her eagerness to see whether Lord Alexander would ride over to speak to them.
    “Do try for a little more conduct, Daughter,” Harwood warned, though the warmth of his tone belied his words. “If you pitch out of the carriage and get trampled, your young man will hardly find you an attractive sight.”
    Sarah sat back down suddenly. “My young man! I don’t know what you mean. I only . . . Oh! Hello, Lord Alexander. That was thrilling!”
    Jennifer leaned over John. “Yes, it was, and Mr. Fortesque acquitted himself very well without Demon to contend with.” Her eyes scanned the melee of prancing horses around them.
    “I thank you, Miss Silverton.” Fortesque appeared suddenly on the other side. Introductions quickly followed. The duke noticed that Fortesque’s response was decidedly unenthusiastic upon being presented to John, and that his kinsman in turn looked very grim as he acknowledged the introduction with a curt “We’ve met!”
    Lord Alexander curbed his overheated mount only long enough to ascertain Sarah’s plans for the next two evenings. Then, expressing all that was proper, he excused himself, as