Page 29 of A Deviant Spinster for the Duke (The Gentlemen’s Club #3)
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“ L ord Campbell, I do not think this is appropriate,” Duncan said, the sharp ache in his chest almost as agonizing as the dull throb in his ankle. “Her father is not present. How can you propose marriage if her father is not here?”
He cursed himself for having nothing better to say, no reason more impactful to offer. Indeed, what right did he have to speak of propriety? At least Roger was proposing marriage, rather than invitations to night-shadowed meetings, daring dances, and almost-kisses that provided no security to Valeria’s reputation and future.
“Her father has given his permission,” Roger replied awkwardly, his face the color of blackberry juice. With the block of ice rapidly melting in his grip, he looked to Valeria. “Miss Maxwell, might I request a moment alone with you?”
Duncan stared down at Valeria, his arm still around her shoulders. Instinctively, he tightened his hold, unwilling to relinquish her to that man.
“Valery…” he whispered, needing to gaze into those green eyes of hers, needing to see what she thought of such a proposal, needing to see some sign of distaste or dismissal.
But she would not look at him.
“Valery,” he repeated, his fingertips gently squeezing the peak of her shoulder. “You cannot do this.”
She finally met his gaze, but her obvious distaste was not aimed at Roger, embers smoldering in the black of her pupils. “If you will excuse me, Your Grace, I must go and speak with Roger.”
Duncan clenched his jaw so hard that a splinter of pain prickled up the right side of his face. He could not physically hold her there, forbidding her from going with Roger; she was free to do whatever she pleased, whether he liked it or not.
Beatrice, who had been loitering nearby throughout the excitement, like a spectator at a boxing match, chose that moment to step forward. “Lord Campbell, perhaps you should come with me.
My cousin will meet you in a moment, once His Grace has made sure she can walk. I think the Sun Room will suffice.” She weaved her arm through Roger’s. “My uncle will prefer it if there is someone else in the room with you, and I am happy to act as chaperone.”
“I will await you, Miss Maxwell,” Roger said with a relieved smile, his chest puffing with a hopeful excitement that lit a fuse beneath Duncan’s dormant jealousy, exploding it awake.
Still clutching that blasted block of ice, Roger allowed himself to be pulled toward the manor— Duncan’s manor—where Beatrice all but shoved him through the terrace doors, into the Sun Room.
“He is not right for you, Valery,” Duncan swooped in without hesitation, turning her to face him. “What sort of respectable man would leave a lady with a bruised foot, wandering off without her? He has no mettle, Valery. He is too mild-mannered, too boring, too… unlike you. You need someone who challenges you, who excites you, who ensures that no two days will ever be the same and will certainly never be dull.”
She brushed off his hands, glaring up at him. “You have no right to cast judgment, Duncan. I have not asked for your intervention or your opinion, so do not give it.”
Her chest heaved with the force of her simmering anger. “Our lessons ended when you ended them, but, as you keep insisting that you have a debt to pay, allow me to ask for one last favor.”
“Name it,” he urged, folding his arms behind his back so he would not be tempted to touch her again.
“Leave me alone, Duncan,” she shot back, her breath hitching. “Just… leave me alone. This game, this… chase, has come to an end. So, please, if I mean anything to you at all, then leave me be.”
Barefoot, she turned and stooped to pick up her shoes and stockings, limping across the grass alone.
Duncan pushed away from the tree, determined to carry her even if she hated him, but as he caught up to her, gritting his teeth through the pain of his own rolled ankle, she stopped and whipped around. The glower in her eyes was fiercer than any he had witnessed before, shards of fury glinting.
“Leave me alone,” she hissed. “You know me—if I need help, I will ask for it.”
“You are injured,” he growled in reply. “You need help, but you are too stubborn to ask for it.”
A cold smile graced her lips. “Or, perhaps, I know that you are not the man to help me. Indeed, you have done quite enough. So, if you have nothing more productive to say, I shall be on my way.” She paused. “Do not follow me.”
Turning her back on him, she hobbled onward, and it took every shred of willpower that Duncan possessed not to sweep her up into his arms and carry her as far away from Roger and that proposal as possible.
Boring is better than a broken heart, he told himself, no longer sure if he meant hers or his.
Bizarrely, Valeria found herself grateful for the pulsing pain in her foot, as it gave her the perfect excuse for being somewhat teary-eyed and distracted. Whenever she felt her anguish or anger rising again, all she needed to do was touch her sore foot, now re-stockinged and shoed, and no one would suspect there was anything more to the pained scrunch of her face. Certainly not Roger.
“Are you certain you are able to have this conversation now?” he asked, frowning.
He sat beside her, at a polite distance, on the brocade settee that faced the splendor of the grounds, the terrace doors framing that wretched cedar tree perfectly. How she wished she had never spotted that golden ‘treasure.’
Valeria nodded slowly. “Please, do continue.”
She cast a cursory glance at Beatrice, who had retreated to the far corner of the room with her back to the pair, perched on a chair, pretending to read. The stiffness of her shoulders and the slight bend in her neck, however, made it clear that she was listening to every word.
“I am sorry for… ambushing you with my proposal,” Roger said, fidgeting with the cuffs of his tailcoat. “A friend of mine thought it would be… romantic, and I did not want it to feel like a business arrangement. In hindsight, putting it in a tree so tall was a terrible idea.”
Valeria had to laugh, though it echoed hollow. “Were you planning to climb to retrieve it?”
“I was,” he replied, nodding. “Valeria, may I be frank with you?”
“Please.”
He took a breath. “I have admired you for some time and have long considered you to be an excellent… acquaintance. But I am not a romantic man. I am a practical man and, I hope, an honorable man.” He hesitated. “It has recently come to my attention that my father borrowed a tremendous sum of money from your father and neglected to pay any of it back.”
A chill bristled up and down Valeria’s spine, her eyes widening in shock.
“I happened to speak with your father last night, and after several games of chess and a brandy too many, the conversation became more… illuminating. I have been made aware of the hardships your household is facing,” he continued, unable to look at her. “I was already considering a proposal, I want you to know that, but it was the deciding moment for me.”
The increasing heat of the summer day seemed to surge into the Sun Room and crest across Valeria’s face, her skin flaming with shame. Nobody wanted to have to accept charity, nor did she like the idea he felt some kind of obligation to marry her.
“I asked your father’s permission there and then, and he has agreed,” Roger said, tentatively reaching out a hand to take hold of hers. “But, as I say, I did not want the proposal to feel like a business arrangement. Yes, this is my way of repaying my father’s debt to yours, but I also… like you, Valeria. I saw no reason not to combine the two.
“As for my haste—well, I was informed that it was a matter of the utmost urgency, but I assure you, I can remedy your predicament. My fortune is greater than society is aware of. I arranged that deliberately, so that I would not be approached by ladies—mothers, in truth—who were hunting wealth above everything else.”
Embarrassment robbed Valeria of her ability to speak, squirming on the edge of the settee, uncomfortable with the feeling of seeing her secrets—her father’s secrets—laid bare before her. She had never felt quite so small before, her entire being reduced by her circumstances.
“And you need not worry about William,” Roger added brightly, as if they were in the midst of some cheery afternoon discourse. “He left at dawn this morning.”
“Left?” Valeria choked, her head pounding.
He nodded. “His mother sent a letter by express messenger. I believe she discovered his plans to propose marriage to you and promptly maneuvered to prevent it. She has chosen someone else for him, as I understand it.”
Valeria had assumed that the night’s revels were the cause of William’s absence, for he had been rather wobbly by the time she had retired from the drawing room. To hear that he had departed conjured a prickle of panic, for if she had no options anymore, then her future was already decided.
It was Roger or no one. Roger or destitution. Marriage to the mild-mannered, respectable viscount, or losing everything. It was no choice at all.
Yet, she hesitated.
“May I have some time to think about it?” she asked, unable to ignore the soft gasp that came from the corner of the room. Beatrice likely thought she was mad, too.
Furrows appeared on Roger’s otherwise smooth brow, his lips pursing. “Well, I rather hoped to announce it today, so we have three weeks to manage the banns before my house party.” He huffed out a frustrated breath. “I had the idea that it could serve as our wedding celebrations, too.”
“Please, Roger,” she urged, tapping into the reservoir of her flirtatious lessons in an attempt to delay. “I just need some time to think. It is the first time I have ever received a proposal— would you deny me the full experience of leaving you in brief suspense?”
He seemed to like that, smiling shyly. “Very well. Take as much time as you need, though if you could accept before the end of the house party here, I would be terribly grateful. It will be easier to invite everyone to our wedding celebrations, if I can request their presence in person.”
Fortunately, he did not appear to hear Beatrice’s snort.
“I will give you my response in due course, Roger,” Valeria promised.
Recovering from her stifled chuckle, Beatrice took that moment to intrude on the conversation, clapping her hands together like a schoolmaster demanding silence.
“I hate to separate you at such a wondrous moment,” she said brightly, “but I really must get my cousin to her chambers, so a physician can be summoned. It is never a good idea to make a decision while in great pain, after all.”
Roger blinked, as though he had forgotten that the younger woman was there. “Yes, of course. I have taken up enough of your time, Valeria.” He got to his feet, bowing deeply. “I look forward to hearing your reply, and I wish you a swift recovery. Once again, I am sorry about the ice. I had no idea it would melt so quickly in this heat.”
“Thank you, Roger,” was all Valeria could say.
Although she must have done, or she would be in a heap on the floor, she felt as if she had not breathed throughout the entire conversation. Once Roger was safely out of the Sun Room, she sank back against the arm of the settee, expelling a strained exhale.
“Say nothing,” she warned her cousin with a raised finger.
Beatrice clasped a hand to her chest, feigning outrage. “I was not going to say a word.” She moved closer. “Shall I help you to our rooms now?”
“No, thank you.” Valeria closed her eyes, willing her breathing to calm down. “Instead, might you fetch my father to me? I fear I must speak with him at once.”
After all, this proposal affected them both.
It will change everything for us. It will be worth the price I have to pay. It has to be. She held tightly to that thought as she cracked open one eye, watching as Beatrice rushed away to retrieve Valeria’s father.
And as her thoughts drifted traitorously toward Duncan— feeling the phantom touch of his arm around her shoulders; his forehead resting against hers like a kiss; the skim of his fingertips against her skin as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear; the cradle of his warm palm against her cheek, his thumb lightly brushing the apple of it—she reached down and prodded her bruise, letting the pain carry away any residual hope that he might burst through the door and ask her to marry him himself.