Page 25
Story: His Accidental Duchess
Daphne led him down a hallway of bedrooms, doors all shut, and stopped in front of a half-open door, elbowing it open without bothering to introduce him first.
Inside, Anna Belmont sat on a low sofa with a middle-aged woman who must be her mother. The dress, the one Theodorehad ordered, sat between them, all lace and tulle and silk, pearls and beads clicking together whenever the women moved.
They leaped to their feet, red-faced, when he came in.
“Daphne, why did you not tell us His Grace was here!” the woman—the Dowager Viscountess St. Maur, he assumed—blurted out. “Your Grace, I am so sorry for the lack of formality.”
“Think nothing of it,” he answered steadily, tearing his gaze away from the dress. “I merely came to iron out some points in my arrangement with Miss Belmont, and to check that the dress was suitable.”
The Dowager Viscountess’s cheeks burned. “This gown must have cost a great deal of money, Your Grace. I am not sure we can accept…”
“It did cost a great deal of money, but fortunately, Ihavea great deal of money,” he answered coolly.
Miss Belmont was watching him in silence, her hands folded in front of her. Her expression was blank, and that intrigued him.
Generally, Theodore considered himself good at reading faces. People were never so good at hiding their feelings as they fancied themselves to be, and certainly, Miss Belmont had been an open book the last time he met her. Now, though, there was something shuttered in her eyes.
“I wonder if I might speak to my betrothed alone if you please?” he asked, flashing a quick smile at the Dowager Viscountess.
She bit her lip, looking uncertain. “Well, I…”
“I shall be fine, Mama,” Miss Belmont spoke up, her voice even. “We’ll only need a few minutes.”
The Dowager Viscountess let out a long sigh. “Very well, but only as long as it takes me to go downstairs and help Emily with the tea. Daphne, come.”
The woman sailed out of the room, flanked by her daughter, and the door swung shut behind them.
Silence descended, thick and cloying. He didn’t immediately speak—it was more interesting to see what Miss Belmont would do.
She cleared her throat and spoke first. “I can’t accept the dress, Your Grace. It’s most kind, but you must take it back. I already have a wedding dress. It’s been thoroughly washed, and the mending is mostly done, and?—”
“Please, I insist. The expense is nothing, and I really cannot allow you to wear that old thing.”
She drew in a breath. “I don’t need your charity,Your Grace. I can manage by myself, let me assure you, and anyway, I wasn’tasking. I wastellingyou. I won’t accept this dress, and if you think?—”
Abruptly, his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist and hauling her close. Close enough to feel her surprised stutter of breath. The girl’s mouth dropped open, stunned into silence.
Surprise was a very pretty emotion on her face, he noticed. Her chest heaved, and he smelled the distinct scent of roses emanating from her. Rose water, no doubt, the scent all ladies seemed to adore at the moment. Something prickled in his chest, sending heat to his gut, and he realized just how inappropriate his actions were.
He released her wrist, and she shrank back as if burned.
“I will not have my bride marry me in a gown intended for another man,” he informed her tartly. “I’m sure you can understand my point of view on this matter.”
She colored, lifting a hand to her wrist, where he’d touched her. He knew full well he hadn’t left bruises or even a mark, but her fingertips lingered on her skin nevertheless.
“Well, then, perhaps we can order another dress, and I?—”
“You clearly cannot afford it, and there’s no time. I’m afraid, my dear, this is final. By the way, your sisters will need new dresses. I assume they don’t have anything suitable? And before you saya word, no, the dresses they intended to wear for your wedding to my brother willnotbe suitable”
She bit her lip. Infuriatingly, she would not meet his eyes. The first time he met her, Miss Belmont had met his gaze blink for blink, never once dipping her chin. He wasn’t entirely sure what had happened since then, but it was as if shutters had been closed, like the ones blocking most of the windows in the house, and he could no longer see through them.
It doesn’t matter,he reminded himself.
“My sisters don’t need dresses any more than I do. I don’t need gifts,” she said, cutting into his thoughts. “I only want my family to be taken care of.”
“It is not aboutgifts. I am notwooingyou, Miss Belmont. Have you forgotten our arrangement already?”
“How could I? You were so very explicit.”
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