Lord Love a Duke by Renee Reynolds Page A

was enticing and unnerving.

    Juliet felt a shiver race through her at his
delicate kiss, her eyes widening with surprise at his bold contact.
She schooled her face to remain lighthearted, hoping he could not
see the effect his touch and proximity were suddenly having on her.
"When and where shall we run? The beach? The back meadows?" She
took several steps back and focused her attention on her mount,
running her fingers through her mare's glossy mane.

    He again contemplated her mount but was
immediately distracted by the gliding caress of her fingers on her
horse. Would that he could feel that same gentle touch of her
fingers. He cleared his throat. "The beach. It is low tide in the
early morn, which will provide ample ground to run." He was
dismayed to hear the gravelly timbre of his voice.

    She gave him a brilliant smile and dropped
an impudent curtsey. "Then name the hour and I shall meet you at
the stables."

    "Eight of the clock should suffice. I shall
have our mounts readied for that time." He turned to back to her
mare but stopped himself and faced her again. “I almost forgot to
ask. What is her name?”

    Juliet dropped her gaze and flushed with
embarrassment. “Herring,” she murmured.

    The Duke visibly started, certain he had
misunderstood. “Beg pardon? What was that again?”

    She gave a wry smile and replied with more
volume. “Herring. My mare's name is Herring.” She regarded the Duke
warily as he processed this information. She thought he fought to
suppress both a smile and laughter so she rushed to explain. “I, in
the wisdom that only a girl of fourteen possesses, determined to
name her something full of meaning and profundity. Having been
somewhat obsessed with Greek mythology for a while, I chose Hera
for her name. I gloated with youthful enthusiasm that she was queen
of the gods, so regal and bold. Unbeknownst to me, my brothers
decided to amuse themselves by conspiring with a groomsman to work
diligently to make my mount respond to another name – Herring. I
should have been suspicious when they began to tease me of Hera's
jealousy and spite, but I naively assumed they confused their myths
and thought nothing of it. She was the queen, married to Zeus, the
mother of goddesses. Day after day I whispered and cooed the name
Hera in her ear as we rode or when I groomed her, but as soon as I
left one of the three conspirators managed to be around to undo my
words. Within a month I could not understand why she failed to
respond to her name when called. All became clear as the family
decided to take a ride together one warm September afternoon. As I
voiced my happiness with my mare in every aspect save her name
response, Marcus assured me that she did indeed know her name.
After voicing my objections and trying in vain to call Hera,
Charles calmly whistled and called out to 'Herring.' To my horror
she immediately responded. My brothers thought it all quite a
lark.”

    She paused in her story and Jonas was half
stunned and half amused. He could not hold back his eventual
chuckles. “You have to admit, it was a good prank, but I shudder to
think what your parents made of the name.”

    “I will admit no such thing! The worst of
the story is that I suddenly realized I was desperately wishing to
name my beautiful mare after a vicious and vindictive woman who was
feared and despised, and insulted repeatedly by her husband. Simply
speaking her name makes one wonder if mountains will shudder and
men lacking pomegranates run away in fright. To have this
magnificent mount labeled with such a pejorative designation just
seems a travesty. A name is something carried for the entirety of
life, be it animal or human. But which is worse, I ask you – an
unstable queen of the gods or a bottom-feeding fish that tastes
worse than it smells. Picture your own steed with some such
derogation, then talk to me about the worthiness of that
prank.”

    His humor dried up in the face of her
earnestness. “I do see your