A Duke Never Forgets (The Duke Hunters Club, #3) by Blythe Bianca

Author:Blythe, Bianca
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: regency romantic comedy, amnesia romantic comedy, regency comedy romance, regency historical fiction, historical romance dukes, amnesia romance, regency cornwall
Publisher: Bianca Blythe
Published: 2020-07-29T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THE SUN DANCED OVER the dark brown fields, and Sebastian inhaled the fresh air. His horse moved over the soil, grunting occasionally. Evidently, he was more accustomed to dragging an expensive chaise around Cornwall than a plow.

“This is your new life,” he told his horse. “You’ll get accustomed to this, I promise. It’s less boring than lingering in the garden.”

A commotion sounded, and one of the field hands pointed. “Some crazy woman has got into the field.”

Sebastian turned and looked.

Then he saw her: his goddess.

His heart swelled. Genevieve looked stunning. She always looked stunning, but now her hair had come undone, and even though her bonnet was covering much of it, long, lovely blond curls rippled down her delicate, divine back.

He waved. “Genevieve! Genevieve!”

She wasn’t striding toward him, and he frowned. She seemed to be engaged in conversation with his new boss, a man who seemed quite occupied with waving his arms. Perhaps he was boasting about the size of his field. Sebastian had been happy to find work so near his home. To think that he’d lived here all this time and never once thought to work here. No doubt, he’d fed and brushed his horses each day, taking them on the occasional gentle amble or more athletic trot.

His new boss’s face was becoming an interesting puce shade, and Sebastian stared. Was it possible he was yelling? The sound vanished in the blustery wind, but Sebastian frowned. This was not good, not good at all.

“Come on, Pegasus. We’re going to get her.” He guided his horse toward Genevieve. “Hurry up!”

His horse moved obediently toward Genevieve, dragging his plow behind him.

“No! No!” One of his new colleagues, a fellow farmhand, waved his arms. “Stop!”

Sebastian frowned.

“You’re destroying the lines,” the man shouted. “Williams won’t like it!”

“Ah. I understand now.”

The man’s shoulders relaxed, and he lowered his arms.

“But I don’t care.” Sebastian rustled his reins, so Pegasus lurched forward and moved across the neatly formed lines of the field with renewed vigor.

Disappointment and confusion shot over the man’s face. Obviously, his colleague had never met Genevieve. If he had, he would never stand for the man insulting her. That much was clear.

“What are you doing, Seagull?” Mr. Williams bellowed.

“Just thought I’d join the conversation you were having with my wife,” Sebastian said lightly.

Evidently, the words did not ease Mr. Williams’ irritation. His eyebrows lurched upward, and he formed fists with his hands.

“Your wife is disrupting the plowing. You are disrupting the plowing.” The man’s knuckles grew white.

“I-I’m sorry, sir,” Genevieve stammered. Her cheeks had turned an appealingly pink color, though Sebastian despised the manner in which she quivered. “I didn’t mean to do any harm.”

“Hmph. I suppose you didn’t do as much harm as this fellow here.” Mr. Williams jerked his thumb in the direction of Sebastian, then returned his glower to Genevieve. “I want you out of this field at once.”

“Very well.” Genevieve nodded. “I promise.” She hesitated. “I did though want to speak with my husband.”

Mr. Williams emitted a noisy sigh, as if he were experimenting with the potential of his throat to emit tornadoes.

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