Free The American Duchess by Joan Wolf Page A

replied and, rising, accompanied him to the house, chatting companionably all the while.
     

Chapter 10
     
    Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage
    Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit.
    —Shakespeare
     
    Alphonse, the Duke’s chef who had been sent up from the Castle, outdid himself at dinner. Tracy, who was a very good cook herself, was deeply impressed. The food she had had on her visit to Steyning Castle and the last evening’s meal as well had been superlative, but on those occasions her mind had been too distracted to allow her to truly appreciate it.
    “Is Alphonse French?” she asked the Duke, reverently regarding a morsel of squab before she put it into her mouth.
    “Yes. I brought him from Paris with me when I came home last winter. I had to bribe him shamelessly, but he was worth it.”
    “He certainly was,” said Tracy, mentally planning to see if she could extract some of the chef’s secrets from him.
    After dinner they went into the library and the Duke proposed a game of chess. Tracy looked at him measuringly. “Only if you give me a handicap,” she said at last.
    He looked disappointed. “I did not know you were so poor spirited.”
    “I don’t mind losing, but I hate to lose badly,” Tracy said frankly. “You may be the image of a British gentleman, but I’ll bet you’re a killer. Give me a queen and a rook.”
    “A queen and a rook!”
    “Tsk, tsk, Adrian. I didn’t know you weresopoor spirited . ”
    “I hate to lose, period,” he said ruefully and Tracy smiled triumphantly.
    “I knew it.”
    He looked at her, dark blue eyes narrowed. “All right. A queen and a rook.”
    Silence descended as they bent over the chessboard. Tracy was quite a good player, but the Duke excelled. Without the handicap she would not have had a chance. As it was, the game was very nearly even as they came down toward the end with the edge going to Tracy as she had both her knights and he had only one. She had lost her queen a few moves before.
    She stared at the board intently. “I should win this,” she muttered. “I’m ahead.” She moved a knight and next move lost her rook. It didn’t take the Duke long to checkmate her. “Damn,” said Tracy disgustedly.
    “Shame on you, ma mie , ” he said. “You should have put up a better end game than that.”
    “I know. I never play a decent end game. I do fine until I have to finish it off. I just can’t seem to figure out how to go about it. I dither.”
    He was smiling at her. “You don’t have the killer instinct.” His voice was softly amused.
    “I guess not.”
    He reached out and covered her hand with his. “I shouldn’t at all like a wife who had the killer instinct.” Her eyelids dropped a little in a kind of acknowledgment.
    The tea tray came in and, after, the Duke said, “You go along to bed, Tracy. I am going to read for a bit. I’ll see you in the morning.” Her eyebrows raised a little in surprise and he said levelly, “I am going to be very noble tonight. I don’t want to hurt you again. Let’s give it another day.”
    “Oh.” She looked at him for a moment, her eyes serious, then she smiled. “So noble a noble,” she said mockingly, blew him a kiss, turned her beautiful back and left.
    The following day they went fishing. There was a small but secluded lake on the Thorn Manor estate, and the Duke had told her that it was well stocked with fish. To Tracy’s mind, nothing equaled saltwater fishing, but the lake had looked inviting and freshwater fishing was better than no fishing at all. They left the house in the afternoon, and it was warm and sunny when they arrived at the smooth, clear expanse of water that was Thorn Lake.
    Tracy was dressed in a blue cotton shirt-dress and thin blue leather slippers. She took her fishing rod from the Duke, put it down on the grass and proceeded to roll up the sleeves of her dress. She then took her shoes off. “Ah, the grass feels wonderful,” she said, and he noticed that her