In truth, he’d give anything to feel the salty sea spray on his face, to stand in the path of a hurricane, or even outrace brigands in the Caribbean Sea. Anything was preferable to the tedium of the city. Balls, assemblies, dinners, and hours and hours of incessant discussion on etiquette and suitability. He was sick of it. Sick of pretending to be someone he was not. This duke whom everyone revered…that was not him. Even the women his mother insisted on foisting upon him were wearing him ragged. If he heard one more simpering giggle, he was going to strangle someone.

Rhystan glanced over at his riding companion. She most certainly was not like those women. Sarani did not simper or giggle. She laughed with everything in her, full and raw and so sultry it made his bones melt. And she did not trifle. She always had something intelligent to say.

He recalled his mother’s intervention in the study earlier and fought a wave of disgust. Her thoughtless words galled him, but he knew she wasn’t alone in her sentiments. If the ton got wind of who Sarani really was, they wouldn’t hesitate to treat her with veiled disdain or ridicule her behind closed doors in their drawing rooms as they had her mother after she’d left England. If there was one thing the aristocracy loved more than celebrating their own importance, it was slander.

And by association, his family would be smeared by the scandal.

The gossip in the wake of the Duke of Embry taking such a bride would ruin the dowager’s standing in the eyes of the ton. They would never insult her directly, but invitations would dwindle, as would her influence. She would become the subject of gossip, something he knew she loathed. Ravenna, too. The Huntley name would lose its eternal luster.

Who gives a tinker’s curse about the title?

He didn’t, but others would, namely his peers. Not that he gave a shit about the ton… It was Ravenna he worried for. She needed to secure an excellent match and a husband who would look after her. He worried for his mother as well. For all her endless faults, she loved her children dearly and was steadfastly loyal to her family.

Rhystan shoved down his worries, determined to enjoy the few moments of peace and quiet. They were nearing the corner of Hyde Park. He rolled the knotted tension from his neck muscles. “Shall we have a race on Rotten Row? Last I heard it’s been significantly widened and new railings installed.”

“You wish to race?” Sarani asked, but her eyes glittered with excitement. “Are ladies allowed?”

He glanced down at his pocket watch. “It’s early. Most of the toffs won’t be out for the afternoon promenade for hours yet. And besides, a future duchess can do as she likes.”

“I am not a future duchess,” she said.

“A princess, then.”