Author: Sara Bennett
Category: Historical
Go to read content：https://readnovelfree.com/p/39978_3
The sun was shining and the birds singing and it was a perfect summer’s day. What were other girls her age doing? Visiting friends and going on picnics? Meeting handsome young men who made them ridiculous compliments and stole kisses when their chaperones weren’t watching? As much as she loved her troublesome family she suddenly wished herself back at Miss Debenham’s. She’d been looking forward to this break, to being home again, but now all she wanted was to be with her friends, who made her feel that her life was full of infinite and exciting possibilities.
“Eugenie!” Jack was wrenching at her hand, desperately trying to gain her attention.
Startled back to reality, Eugenie looked up. A horseman had just come around the corner of the lane and was bearing down upon them at speed.
He was a big man whose dark blue
coat flapped behind him, while his face was a blur beneath his hat. He saw them a moment after Eugenie saw him and swerved to allow for such unexpected obstacles. However the twins had never stayed still in their lives and now they flung themselves across his path and into the hedgerow, shrieking with terrified excitement.
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The horse tried to avoid the twins, and instead found itself directly in the path of Jack and Eugenie and Erik. Eugenie grabbed her brother tightly in her arms. Erik, his rope loosened, bolted down the lane, kicking up his heels and adding to the confusion. The horse reared with a shrill cry, like a dark angel of death above their heads, wickedly sharp hooves pawing, and then the rider regained control and turned him aside.
Despite her shock—her heart was beating like a drummer boy’s drum—Eugenie could not help but admire the rider’s skill. He’d averted disaster. Although, she reminded herself, if he’d been riding a little less recklessly in the first place none of this would have happened.
She watched him bending low over his horse’s neck, speaking softly, calming the animal. Then he dismounted and Jack, as if responding to some unspoken command, ran to take the reins. Eugenie found herself staring. He had dark eyes in a long, handsome face, and they were narrowed as he strode toward her. With his boots so shiny and his clothing so well made, he could only be a gentleman, but he carried himself with a certain arrogance that went beyond that.
Eugenie’s hands were trembling so she placed them behind her back; she sensed that this man would not respond to weakness. He was a great deal taller than she and now he looked down at her, making use of that height to intimidate.
“What in the blue blazes did you think you were doing, woman? I could have run you down!”
“If you had been more cautious—”
“Cautious?” he repeated, furiously, as if she were insane to suggest it. His eyes were dark and stormy, his hair the same color beneath his hat, and his lips curled. Plainly he’d like to throttle her. She glanced down at his hands, saw them clenched into fists, and took an involuntary step back.
Her movement seemed to bring him to his senses.
“You’re unhurt?” he said, his voice dropping. “The children?”
The twins were standing nearby, watching, for once still and silent, while Jack murmured to the horse. “Shaken, that is all,” she said.
His dark eyes swept over her and she thought for a moment she saw a spark of interest in them. But Eugenie knew she must be mistaken. She wasn’t the sort of girl men found interesting at first sight.
He looked over his shoulder, as if suddenly remembering his mount, and Eugenie followed his gaze, and smiled. Jack had worked his usual magic on the creature. It was resting its chin on his shoulder, nuzzling against him.
“Good God,” the gentleman muttered. “I’ve never seen him do that before.”
“Jack has a way with animals,” Eugenie replied, the pride evident in her voice.
Those dark eyes were back on her again. “And you are, madam?”
Eugenie gave a little smile and dipped a curtsey. “Miss Eugenie Belmont. And these are my brothers, Jack, Bertie, and Ben. We live at Belmont Hall.”
He nodded as if he knew it but she could read the puzzlement in his face. “Somerton,” he said brusquely.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Somerton,” he repeated. “It’s my name.”
“How do you do, Mr. Somerton?” her wretched tongue joked.
He gave her a narrow look. “I beg your pardon?” he repeated her own words back to her.
“I’m sorry. Of course I know you are His Grace, the Duke of Somerton.”
The most important man in the county and reportedly the most eligible man in England, she added in her mind but thankfully did not say it aloud.
He moved toward his horse without replying—he was probably used to people treating him with goggle-eyed reverence. But Erik the billy goat had no such respect for the duke’s position in the realm and he chose that moment to come cantering down the lane and, head lowered, butted the duke square in the buttocks.
His Grace went sprawling most ungracefully, his long body thudding to the ground, arms and legs splayed out, his hat rolling toward Jack’s feet.