My Lady Miriam Part 2

The Duke of Calver was in his large and exquisite sitting room, with his arm resting on the mantelpiece of his fire and his foot playing with a small piece of burnt wood. He stood a good six feet in his shining boots and he looked every bit the part of a gentleman; his very being spoke of elegance and the vigor in his grip when shaking another’s hand could only confirm the strength of a born athlete. He took no concern in his attire, though how he would achieve such grace and sophistication was beyond his admirers, of whom he had many. In his lordship the Duke’s expressions he mostly held a superior and arrogant air, and could accomplish the most dampening set-downs to his followers, but on occasion—on that very rare occasion—something would amuse him, something would bring warmth and laughter into his eyes, his expression would change and a smile that was only sighted by very few would steal into his features. The Duke was certainly said to be handsome, indeed, to be thought the handsomest man of the ton but he had some, what society called, odd idiosyncrasies that made him, when in deep conversation with His Grace, challenging to talk to. But however, his servants and workers, who had known him for a good number of years, said him to be the fairest and gentlest of masters, no matter how impatient. At this moment, his cold grey eyes wandered boredly around the room and his face showed a little and obviously pleasant contemplation. His afternoon adventure with that unique young girl had amused him and in some way—though show it he would not—surprised him. His business with that man (whom he had soundly and undoubtedly overthrown) had introduced to him an enterprising and impudent young brat! He had treated her abominably, The Duke thought a little ruefully, but that was not to be helped, he was in no mood then to be chivalrous. But she had not been offended, no, she knew what she was about, and wasn’t likely to lose her head over much! He smiled very faintly, but it vanished quickly as he turned to a knock on the door. He spoke a quiet and commanding ‘enter’ and moved to face the man who came into the room, his groom closed the door behind him, bowed and told his master that he had returned the horse to the young lady.
“Thank you James, did she convey any message?” The Duke of Calver stared lazily at the groom. James nodded,
“Yes, my Lord. She—ah, the lady sends her gratitude and thanks. She says also, sir: That your gun is quite the popular type and--and she is very grateful for you having given it to her, and very pretty present, that is what she said. She shall keep the gun out of remembrance of you and complete gratitude; I think I remember her saying sir. Then—ah, the lady said…” James paused, looking down at his feet.
“Well? Come, come James. What did she say?” The Duke inquired gently but impatiently.
James continued, “She said that you are…are the most offensive—is the exact words she used sir—gentleman she has ever met and your manners leave much to be desired and—and…well, she finds herself in the position to say that…that you are abominably rude sir.”
The Duke’s eyes flooded with laughter, but his face remained grave as dismissed the groom. His Grace the Duke of Calver was left in the room alone, he walked slowly over to his large window that overlooked his enormous estate and rested his foot on the window seat. The Duke mused to himself aloud,
“Abominably rude…yes, I like that. But I don’t think I’m in the habit of bestowing pretty presents on anyone, let alone a young chit of a girl! But I must have that gun back, and I believe I know just the way to get it…”


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