the light so that a man can get a proper look at you.’
‘Why would you need a proper look at me?’
‘I mean to marry,’ he said, as though it were not obvious. ‘And you are a front runner. But no matter what your father might think, I cannot be expected to make a decision based on his word alone.’
‘He could have shown you a miniature and you could have made a judgement from that,’ she said. It was clear that her opinion did not matter. Of course, she supposed, since the man was a duke, her acceptance was assumed. Why would she refuse?
Other than that he had the manners of a stable hand.
‘It would not have been the same,’ he assured her. ‘You are quite lovely and I am sure no picture would do you justice.’
‘I am not so different from many others,’ she insisted. ‘If you wish for a pretty bride, you would be better served to make the rounds at Almack’s. Everyone who is anyone is there.’
‘In knee breeches,’ he added. ‘There is a limit to what I will go through, simply for the sake of marrying.’
‘They are proper attire for evening,’ she said bluntly.
‘They are uncomfortable,’ he said with equal bluntness. ‘And they do not suit me. I will wear them at court, of course. I mean no disrespect to the Regent. But beyond that, trousers will have to do.’
‘So you are willing to limit your choice of bride, based on your unwillingness to dress for evening?’
‘Just as you are limiting your choice of husbands by not attending Almack’s,’ he said.
Touché. She could not explain her way out of that without admitting that she could no longer get vouchers. ‘Perhaps I do not wish to marry,’ she hazarded.
‘Then you should go for the dancing,’ he suggested. ‘You are very good at it.’
‘Thank you,’ she said glumly.
‘If we marry, I will not worry about having to hire a dancing master for you.’
She stumbled. He knew. Not all, perhaps. But enough. She pulled her hand from his, prepared to quit the floor.
He grabbed it back again and kept her in place. ‘You will not get away from me so easily. Wait until the end of the music. Anything else will make you appear skittish.’ He looked into her eyes. ‘I do not tolerate skittishness.’
‘And I do not care what you do or do not like,’ she said.
‘Then we are not likely to get on well.’ He gave a thoughtful nod as though he were marking a check on the negative side of some invisible list of wifely qualities. ‘Other young ladies are much more agreeable,’ he said. ‘One might even say that they fawned.’
‘I expect so. You are a duke, after all. A marriageable miss cannot aspire higher than that.’
‘Then why do you not express similar behaviours?’
‘Is there anything about the title that imbues it with an amiable nature, a pleasant companion, a loving mate, or …’ she struggled to find a delicate way to express her misgivings ‘… any kind of compatibility between us? You are young, of course.’
‘Twenty-six,’ he supplied.
‘That might be an advantage in your favour. Barring accident, I would not have to be worried about widowhood. But I have met many men to whom I would much rather be a widow than a wife.’
His rather forbidding face split in a smile that was as surprising as it was brilliant. Straight white teeth, full lips, which had seemed narrow as he’d frowned at her. And there was a spark in his eye. For a moment, she almost found him attractive.
Then she remembered that he was her father’s choice, not hers.
‘I intend to live to a ripe old age,’ he affirmed. ‘Do you ride?’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I said, do you ride? Horses,’ he added, as though there could be any other sort of riding.
‘No,’ she said hurriedly, hoping that this was the correct answer to put him off. ‘I am deathly afraid of horses.’ In truth, she quite liked them—probably better than she liked his Grace. But one could not be expected to marry a man based on the contents of his stables.
His smile had turned to thoughtful disappointment. ‘That is a pity. You do a creditable imitation of one, I notice. Although it does not suit you. This Season, I have met several young ladies from whom a snort and a neigh would not have surprised me in the least.’
The joke was not subtle. She almost upbraided him for his cruelty before he added, ‘That did not bother me much, however. Looks are not everything in a woman. And I quite like horses. I breed them, you know. I have rather a lot of land devoted to the business of it. In the country, of course.’
‘Then it is as I said. We would not suit at all. I cannot abide the country.’ Another lie.
‘You would not be there all the time, you know. Much as I do not like to be away during the prime foaling time, now that I am Duke, I will be forced to attend parliament, and all the balls, galas and entertainments that accompany the Season. I suspect you could have your fill of town were you married to me.’
And then retire for the rest of the year to a country estate, far away from the prying eyes of the ton. She imagined acres of soft rolling green dotted with grazing mares and their little ones nudging at them. It was tempting, when he put it that way. ‘As you complained earlier, I rarely attend the events of the Season now that I am here. It is just as likely that I would be forced to socialise when I did not wish and then be forced into a solitude I did not enjoy.’
He gave her a sidelong glance. ‘It sounds rather like you have taken it into your head not to be happy with anything I might offer you.’
She returned the glance. ‘Is it so obvious?’
‘Quite. Since you are prone to such candour, will you tell me the reason for it? If I have given you offence, as I frequently do, it would be useful to know how. I would welcome a critique of my approach, so that I do not repeat the mistake with the next young lady.’
Her lips quirked as she tried to suppress a smile. ‘There. Just now. You should have said, “If I have given offence, I humbly apologise”.’
‘Without knowing why?’
‘Definitely. That is the way to a lady’s heart.’
‘And if I were to begin with this apology, you would feel differently towards me?’
‘No.’
He drew back a moment, as though running through the conversation in his head. ‘Then I shan’t bother.’ He stood in silence next to her, as though plotting his next move.
Why did he not just go away? She had been the one to give offence. And he was the one with all the power and new enough so that he hardly knew how to
