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But somehow, Daphne was prettier. He wasn’t entirely sure how that could be, considering they looked the same.

In a flash, Edward recalled how she’d looked up at him after he kissed her, with flushed cheeks and wide eyes, her chest heaving. He remembered the powerful pull of desire he’d felt, the urge to hold her again. He’d wanted to hold her against him, slide his hands across her waist, and touch the fluttering pulse in her neck.

He’d wanted to kiss her again, more deeply this time, to taste her.

He was glad he’d controlled himself, of course. Theirs wasn’t going to be this sort of marriage. Besides, who wouldn’t be appalled by a beastly, clodhopping man like himself slobbering all over her? No, he had to stick to his word.

Clearing his throat, Edward shook away the thoughts and stepped forward to greet Daphne and her sister.

“You’re quite the gentleman tonight,” Miss Belmont said as he turned to walk away.

He paused, glancing back at her. “I’m always a gentleman.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re far too sharp to be one. But with my family, you were a perfect noble.”

“Perhaps I like your family more.”

Miss Belmont’s sister gave a disapproving tut. He’d said the wrong thing, as usual.

Edward turned away, hoping to mask his humiliation.

They’re all so… so sociable. Full of all the right graces, always knowing the right thing to say.

He’d heard of the Duke of Langdon, of course. The wild Duke tamed by love. The witty, handsome noble who could turn the charm on and off at will.

It was hard not to feel jealous.

“Shall we sit?” Edward announced to the room.

They all moved towards their chairs, but Miss Daphne Belmont paused, glancing around.

“Where is Alex? Isn’t he joining us? What about Mrs. Trench?”

“This is a formal dinner,” Edward responded, feeling once again as though he’d put a foot wrong. “Alex is too young to join us. It isn’t the done thing.”

“Perhaps not,” Lady St. Maur conceded, settling in her seat. “But I’m sure none of us would object. When my girls were young, they always sat with me and my husband at the table. We liked having them there. We are all about to be family, after all.”

Edward took his seat at the head of the table. He realized a moment too late that the table had been set up at the wrong end. This was the seat his father had sat in, whereas a younger Edward would sit at the opposite end.

It felt wrong, more wrong than he could imagine.

“Well, perhaps Alex will join us later,” he relented. “I hope the food is to your liking.”

That seemed to kill all conversation. The first course was served, and for a few long moments, only the sound of polite eating and drinking filled the room.

Lady St. Maur broke the silence first, clearing her throat and saying something or other about the wedding. Her daughters joined in, and Clarissa, and for a while, the conversation was light and almost pleasant.

“I imagine we can keep things simple, then, if the wedding is not going to be elaborate?” Lady St. Maur said, glancing at Edward.

“Simple, yes, but a certain standard must be achieved,” Edward answered. “I don’t want to give any rise to gossip. Make the choices that suit you and your daughter, Lady St. Maur, but I can’t have people saying that I skimped on my own wedding. They’ll say I was angry at being caught out. I’m sure you know the sort of things people will say.”

Lady St. Maur nodded sympathetically.

“It’ll be expensive, then,” Miss Belmont remarked, reaching for her wine glass.

Clarissa shot her a disdainful look and scoffed. “Then perhaps you should have seduced a regular lord, instead of a duke.”

There was a pause after that.