Chapter 13

Keeping Up the Charade

"Now that I know you are in good hands, I shall leave you with His Grace and return to Margaret to ensure everything is as she wishes it," Penelope said.

"Splendid." Nicholas gave a dazzling smile.

He had not been able to help himself when the chance arose. He was still unsure if he had made the offer to spend time with an interesting woman or because of the rise he got out of Bridget by teasing her. Perhaps he found enjoyment in both reasons.

He watched Penelope leave to rejoin the others, and then he looked back at Bridget—a woman scorned.

The Duke held up a hand. "Before you say anything, you are welcome."

"Welcome?" Bridget spat. "Welcome for what?"

"For saving you this morning, for a start, and for promising to accompany you on all future walks. You need not be afraid of anything out in the wilderness, dear Bridget."

"I was not scar?—"

The Duke interrupted again. "And for not revealing the truth to your mother. I don't believe she would be happy to know what we were really doing this morning."

"We did not do anything this morning," Bridget sniped.

"Did we not? So, I should tell everyone about our ride together and the time alone at the estuary?" the Duke asked.

Bridget looked even more furious but calmed down a little as she thought about it. Nicholas did not want to anger her completely, only tease some emotion out of her.

"You are right," Bridget relented. "You did help me this morning, and for the very briefest moment in time, you were a complete gentleman. I must also thank you for not revealing the truth to my mother, even if we did nothing. She would only worry about it. How did you know what I had told her?"

"I didn't, but I guessed it was the right thing to say," the Duke replied. "Your sister has been talking about it all morning. She finds it very humorous that you tripped and fell into a bush. I can see by your face that you don't find it as funny."

Bridget shook her head, and then her lips curled into a small smile. "Perhaps it would have been funny if it had happened. I am glad Margaret is happy. I don't care what happens to me this weekend, as long as she has a good time."

"That sounds like a challenge," the Duke drawled.

Bridget shook her head again, but her anger and frustration were dissipating. The Duke did like a good challenge, and the harder she fought against it, the more he would fight for it. There was nothing much else to do over the next week and a half.

"Are you always this frustrating?" Bridget huffed.

"Some people have claimed so, though many find me absolutely charming."

"Do they?" Bridget murmured.

"You shall find out on our many walks together over the next week or so."

"I have gone off walking suddenly," Bridget replied.

"Or riding," the Duke suggested. "I saw the way you were on your horse. You love to ride, don't you? The moors back near London, and the countryside out here. Both are very beautiful."

"Yes, they are," Bridget said, and they found something to agree about. "Riding helps me make sense of the world. Sometimes, you just need to escape the world, don't you think?"

"I do." The Duke nodded. "Are you starting to feel some of my charm?"

Bridget smiled witheringly, but he could see there was some amusement behind it. She enjoyed the banter.

"Does your brother speak a lot about Margaret?" Bridget asked.

The Duke considered her question. Going by her tone, there was more behind her question.

He decided to tell the truth. "He talks non-stop about her. He is quite taken with her."

Bridget smiled fully for the first time since they had begun talking. "She has feelings for him. I believe they will be a very good match even if the marriage is an arranged one. She is very happy to be with your brother."

"And my brother is very happy to be with your sister," the Duke agreed.

Bridget smiled again, looking toward the main gathering in the garden, and the Duke could not look away from her. Her eyes widened and lit up as she smiled, and her cheeks became rosier. She was more beautiful than she knew, and it was not superficial. She was the most fascinating woman he had ever met, and it made her beauty shine more.

"If my brother and your sister are both happy, then everything is right with the world," the Duke said.

"I agree," Bridget replied.

She looked back at the Duke, but as soon as they locked eyes, her smile dropped—perhaps she was worried that she was becoming too friendly with him and giving him the wrong idea.

"I saw your father leave," the Duke noted, changing the topic of conversation.

The neutral expression on Bridget's face was immediately replaced by a slight scowl.

"Yes, he has gone back to London on business," she said far too quickly.

"You are glad he is gone," the Duke remarked.

"What are you talking about?"

"Your Mother, too," he continued. "You are both more at ease without him around."

"I don't know what you mean by that."

"You informed me he is a drunk, but that would not be hard to discern. I saw how he was when he arrived, and then he confined himself to his room. I was sure I saw him drinking from a bottle as he left in his coach, and?—"

"I don't know what you are insinuating, but you could not be further from the truth," Bridget snapped.

"Lady Margaret does not know he is an addict, does she?" the Duke asked.

He could see he should not be pushing her this much, but he kept going.

"Can we please return to the gathering?" Bridget asked. "I am tired of your nonsense."

"I shan't tell her or Michael," the Duke assured her. "I don't mean to bring it up to hold anything over you. I only want you to know that I know what it is like to have an abusive father, and if you ever want to talk?—"

"I don't have an abusive father," Bridget stated, almost shouting loudly enough for everyone to hear her. "Now, please take me back to the gathering, and I think it better if we don't talk to each other."

"Very well," the Duke sighed.

He led the way back to the gathering, and he knew he should apologize for bringing up the topic of her father. He had gone too far by pursuing it, but any apologies would fall on deaf ears right now. He could apologize to her later.

"Bridget, how are you feeling?" Margaret asked when the Duke and Bridget rejoined the fray.

Bridget looked down at her foot. "I had forgotten about it. The pain is almost gone."

"I have that effect on women sometimes," the Duke quipped. "They feel much better around me."

He had promised not to talk, but he could not help himself.

"And hearing you speak has brought the pain back," Bridget scoffed.

She looked pleased to say it, but she quickly turned to her sister, and they shared a look. Bridget looked down at the ground for a second before looking around, as if she had said nothing.

"I have a problem," Margaret announced. "No, we have a problem." She tapped Michael on the arm.

"What is it?" Bridget asked. "Is there a problem with the wedding?"

"There is not, thank goodness," Margaret replied. "Lord Michael and I wanted to play charades, but Mother and the Dowager Duchess declined to join. They would prefer to sit out here and look at the trees. Is that not boring on such a fine day?"

Bridget replied with a slight shrug of the shoulders.

Nicholas could see where this was going even if Bridget could not, and he found it funny to watch the scene unfold. Margaret was right about one thing: it was a fine day. The sun beat down from almost above, the trees swayed gently in the wind, and the birds floated high on a warm air current. It was the type of weather that made him want to go for a swim again. Perhaps he would still have time before the sun started to dip toward the horizon.

"So, we need two other people to play with us, and we can think of no better people," Margaret said.

Bridget looked like she was about to say something, so Nicholas quickly stepped in to speak for her, taking her arm gently.

"Even though we were obvious second choices, we will be glad to play charades," he said.

Bridget's face tightened.

"We are here to make our siblings happy, are we not?" the Duke whispered.

Bridget finally plastered on a smile. "Yes, we will join. Perhaps sisters versus brothers?"

"Oh, I must be with Lord Michael," Margaret gushed. "We will form a team, and you can partner up with His Grace."

"Splendid!" Nichols exclaimed a little theatrically.

He was still holding Bridget's arm, but she yanked it back.

Margaret clapped her hands together. "This will be wonderful. Now, we must all write down ideas. It could be a book title, a famous person, a quote, a composition, or just about anything else you can think of. One person from a team will have thirty seconds to act out the thing, and the other person in the team will guess it. Whichever team has the most correct guesses at the end of the game wins."

"This will be a lot of fun," Nicholas stated.

He received the same look from both his brother and Bridget. Margaret gave him a gleeful look.

"Okay, Lord Michael has some paper and graphite, and we can all tear the paper into strips and write our ideas on them. I will collect them all in a moment and put them in this hat to draw from."

"Do you know a lot of risqué theater groups in London?" the Duke whispered to Bridget.

She shot him a look.

"Hmm, perhaps best to stick to the classics," he muttered under his breath.

Once everyone had written half a dozen or so ideas, Margaret walked around and let everyone drop the folded pieces of paper into the hat. Nicholas wanted to laugh at the glee on her face, and when he looked at Bridget, he could see how much she had brightened around her sister and the happiness she exuded.

"Shall Lord Michael and I go first?" Margaret asked.

"That only seems fair, seeing as the both of you are the reason we are all here today," the Duke replied.

Margaret held the hat out toward Michael, and he picked up a piece of paper and read it silently.

He then stood up and began acting out the idea. He mimed pulling back a bowstring and firing an arrow.

"An archer!" Margaret gasped.

Michael twirled his finger in the air. He then mimed some sort of pointed hat on his head with something sticking out of the top."

"Oh, oh, Robin Hood!" Margaret shouted.

"Yes!" Michael exclaimed.

Margaret leaped up from her chair and moved toward her betrothed, but when she got close, she backed away. Neither of them seemed sure of how to celebrate winning a point.

Bridget looked at Nicholas, and they both shared some joy in seeing their siblings so happy.

"Your turn, Brother," Michael said.

Nicholas stuck his hand in the hat and pulled out the next piece of paper. Romeo and Juliet.

He began his mime, and Bridget immediately stated that it was a play, which was correct. Next, he mimed drinking something and falling to the ground, much to the amusement of everyone, even Penelope and Rebecca. He quickly got up and mimed stabbing himself in the chest, falling to the ground again.

Even Bridget laughed this time.

"It must be Romeo and Juliet," she said.

"Exactly," Nicholas confirmed.

They looked at each other, both pleased, but they did not congratulate each other.

The rounds went on, going back and forth between the two teams. The early bird catches the worm, writing a letter, fencing, the King, France, dancing the minuet, Sherlock Holmes, and building a sandcastle, among many others, were acted out.

Bridget took the very last turn, and she groaned when she looked at the piece of paper. The Duke smiled when she caught his eye, and she could not help but smile back. He would not wait to see what she would have to act out.

As soon as Bridget started, everyone burst out laughing. She squatted a little and shook her rear, bobbing her head. Then, she started walking forward, looking left and right the entire time, bobbing her head.

The Duke had an idea, but he did not want to guess too quickly. He remained silent as everyone else laughed at the scene.

At one point, Bridget turned to face him directly, and she widened her eyes at him, begging him to say something so she would not have to go on with the literal charade.

"Ten seconds!" Margaret announced.

Bridget moved quickly, flapping her arms and pecking so low that her nose almost hit the ground.

"He's not going to get it," Michael said.

"Five seconds!" Margaret shouted gleefully.

"Is it a chicken trying to cross the road?" Nicholas asked.

"Yes!" Bridget shouted, standing up straight again.

She bounced toward the Duke, stopping herself when she realized she was about to be too friendly with him in public.

The Duke smiled some more, happy to have guessed correctly and even happier with how giddy it had made her.

Bridget returned to her chair and sat next to him. It might have been the happiest and most relaxed he had seen her since arriving on the estate.

"Let me tally up the final scores," Margaret said. She looked down at the piece of paper on which she had been writing the scores. "Oh! Well, you seem to have beaten us by two points."

She looked thoroughly disappointed.

"We must think very similarly," the Duke suggested to Bridget.

"Not to worry, my dear," Michael soothed. "We all had fun, didn't we? And your sister and my brother got to spend some time getting to know each other. Our families are closer together, and there is no bigger win than that. And, it is all thanks to you."

"Yes, you are right!" Margaret agreed, as if having an epiphany.

"We are closer together now," the Duke said quietly to Bridget.

"Oh, please," she scoffed.

"You can't deny that we have some chemistry."

"It took you a very long time to guess I was a chicken," Bridget told him.

"It was very amusing to see you acting that out," the Duke admitted. "You are very good at pantomime, I give you that."

"Thank you, Your Grace. I will accept the compliment. You are not so bad yourself, and you did some good guessing."

"So, it would seem we complement each other well."

"In charades," Bridget emphasized.

"Do you see what you can do when you decide to behave yourself and work with me?" the Duke asked, smiling.

Bridget turned to look at him with a mix of fury and amusement. She opened her mouth to say something but then thought against it.

"Didn't I tell you I could be charming?" the Duke teased.

Bridget stood up to excuse herself. "You did, and I might get to see that sometime."

Nicholas laughed. He could see he had started to charm her, and he very much wanted to charm her more.