Page 10

S arah was sitting in the parlor sifting through the cards, gifts, and bouquets of flowers delivered that morning from her bevy of admirers.

She noted that there was nothing from the duke.

Not surprising after her performance last night.

He would never speak to her again, of course. Her temper had got the better of her.

The gall of the man, to spend a week pursuing another woman (also possessed of a large fortune), and only when his suit clearly didn’t prosper to attempt to lure me into making an idiot of myself over him. Again...

Daphne looked up from a note and exclaimed, “This one is from Viscount Moorcroft. It is very pretty; he likens your eyes to pansies.”

Sarah snorted.

“Don’t snort, my dear, it’s not ladylike,” said Daphne absently, reaching for another note. “Oh, here is a lovely one. It’s a bit of Keats and accompanies a lovely bouquet of rosebuds. Shall I read it to you?”

Sarah was about to decline the treat when the door opened and Latham, the butler, announced, “His Grace, the Duke of Troubridge.”

Daphne dropped the note and rose, flustered, touching her hair and smoothing her cambric gown. Sarah rose more slowly, her heart doing an odd thump in her breast. Had he come to scold her for her unseemly behavior last night? But then his speech had been quite shocking, so why should she apologize?

In the next moment, the duke entered the room, dressed stylishly in a maroon-colored coat that fit his admirable figure to perfection, pale eggshell-colored breeches, and top boots.

His cravat was tied with style, and his shirt points were starched perfectly.

His hair was arranged with casual elegance.

In short, he was beautifully turned out.

Which just emphasized how undeniably handsome he was.

Drat the man, why does he have to be so attractive?

Papa would say I am being horribly shallow! She dropped into a curtsy with Daphne.

“Your Grace!” Daphne rose and held out her hand, quite pink with pleasure. “You honor us. Latham, fetch refreshments, please.”

“Please don’t trouble yourself, Lady Holbrook.

I called in the hopes that I could entice you ladies to visit the museum with me.

There is an exhibition of Greek and Roman statuary that I thought might be of interest to Miss Watson.

” At his words, her heart turned over with a palpable thud and all her bad temper drained out her toes.

He took her hand as he spoke and kissed it with the lightest of touches. It was a formal, old-fashioned gesture, and it sent a quiver up her arm that landed in her belly. She could feel herself blushing.

Sarah swallowed . It was really so unfair of him to be so charming. Before she could find her tongue to reply, Daphne said, “How delightful! Of course we would love to go, wouldn’t we Sarah?”

“I’m not dressed for an outing!” protested Sarah.

“I’m sure His Grace will be happy to wait while you change, dear. I’ll order that tea, shall I, Your Grace?”

Daphne waved Sarah away and she left reluctantly.

She ought to refuse after last night. She was mortified with embarrassment when she recalled all the horrible things she had said to the duke, and now he was being perfectly civil and offering her a treat.

How did he know I have been dying to see the exhibition?

She flew upstairs and rang for her maid, Esme. She selected her new walking dress in green poplin with a high collar, a fawn-colored pelisse with green ribbons, fashionable high poke bonnet, kid boots, and gloves in matching green.

She was dressed in record time and returned to the parlor where she found Daphne offering His Grace a second biscuit.

The duke looked up as she entered, and his eyes, a devastating blue, appeared to register approval.

Setting down his cup, he rose immediately, and Daphne bustled out to fetch her pelisse and bonnet, which had miraculously appeared downstairs while Sarah was dressing.

Quickly arriving at Montague House, they purchased a program for the exhibition and made their way to the new exhibit’s hall.

They had gone only a few steps into the hall when Daphne said, “I don’t know how it is, but I am a little fatigued. I’ll just take a seat on one of the couches in the middle of the hall and let the duke show you around, Sarah.” She smiled at the duke, taking a seat and waving them off.

“How did you know I wished to see this exhibit, Your Grace?” Sarah asked, consulting the program as they approached a large sculpture featuring Zeus and a nymph.

“I guessed that you might when you expressed an enthusiasm for Greek and Roman history. And I confess I had a desire to see it myself.”

“And I confess I am surprised to see you today after our... heated passage of arms last night,” she said frankly.

“If you meant to deter me, your object failed. I’m made of sterner stuff than that,” he said with a smile which made her grow unaccountably hot.

“Evidently,” she said, attempting to make a recover.

“I must offer you an apology,” he said with every evidence of sincerity. “My speech was intemperate in the extreme, my foul language was unforgivable.”

She smiled; it gave her a little thrill to have him apologize to her. “I have three younger brothers, Your Grace. I have heard worse.”

They continued their perambulation around the exhibit, consulting the program as they went, and fell into a heated discussion of the rival merits of Greek versus Roman sculpture.

She argued that Greek statuary had more artistic merit because of its simple and graceful style, and he that as Roman statuary was more realistic, it held greater artistic merit.

“We shall have to agree to disagree, Your Grace,” she said firmly. “You shall not budge me from my position.”

“And I shall not budge from mine, so yes we will have to agree to disagree,” he spoke with a smile, however, that made her heart dance. If only he weren’t so dashed handsome, she thought. What would Papa make of him?

Her father was a man of the cloth and would not be swayed by considerations of status and titles, nor beauty of countenance.

Papa would look for moral fiber and solid worth.

He had been opposed from the beginning to Great-aunt Agnes’s plans to marry her off to a titled gentleman.

But Mama had persuaded him to consent to Sarah having a season.

And as each year rolled around and Sarah was whisked off to London for yet another round of frivolity and still no husband, he grew if not reconciled, at least grudgingly accepting.

With a large family and small income, it became impossible to refuse Aunt Agnes’s whims, as she held the purse strings so tightly that without her generosity, the Watsons would have suffered severe privations.

As it was, Sarah would, if she fulfilled the terms of the will, be able to supply the funds for her sisters to have seasons with the opportunity to find suitable husbands, and her little brothers would be able to attend Eton and Oxford.

Something they could never have afforded otherwise.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” she said, startled to realize he had spoken, and she hadn’t heard a word he’d said.

“I asked your opinion of this piece,” he said, stopping before a statue of a Roman general.

“Ah, Julius Caesar!” she smiled. Is he trying to test me?

“So, you recognize him?”

“Of course! Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“I detect a competitive streak in you, Miss Watson.”

“It comes of being the eldest of eight siblings, Your Grace. Everything is a competition.”

He pursed his lips as if considering her statement. “I am the eldest of six and have never felt the need to compete with my siblings.”

“Perhaps not, but I would bet my best bonnet they have felt the urge to compete with you , probably unsuccessfully. Do you always win?”

He frowned. “I’ve never thought about it. It’s my duty to lead the way and protect them. I was trained to be the Duke of Troubridge from the day I was born.”

“Which explains your unconscious arrogance.” She smiled to soften the blow.

“I am not arrogant!” His expression and tone took on that testy edge again, and she cocked her head and continued to smile but said nothing for a moment.

“I am not arrogant!” he repeated. “In fact, if anything, I am too easy in my ways.”

“I said it was an unconscious arrogance, Your Grace. Of course you don’t realize it.”

He stared at her for a moment and then resumed their perambulation. “I shall take your opinion on advisement, Miss Watson,” he said a little stiffly.

“I’ve offended you again, haven’t I?” she said ruefully.

“You seem to make a habit of it,” he admitted. He looked down at her again and frowned. “You’re an original, I’ll give you that. I begin to see why you didn’t take. Let me inform you, Miss Watson, that no man likes to have his shortcomings pointed out to him.”

Her cheeks flooded with heat, and unable to keep her tongue between her teeth, she said tartly, “As someone of consequence, of course you’re unused to anyone offering you critique, no matter how justified!”

He stared at her baffled for a moment, and she dropped her eyes, suddenly mortified. “I apologize, Your Grace. That was very rude of me.”

“No, don’t. I suspect you’re right; I’ve just never seen myself that way.

I still don’t necessarily count it as a fault.

I can hardly help something that is bred in the bone, so to speak.

I’m a privileged person by birth. I had hoped I didn’t take it for granted, but I see from your comment that I do need to be more mindful of my good fortune. ”

“Well, I wouldn’t have said it if you hadn’t been rude first,” she said.

“Was I? I suppose I was. For which I apologize, Miss Watson. It must be your frankness that tempts me to be equally frank in return.” He was still frowning at her as if she were a puzzle he couldn’t fathom.

“I’ve never met a woman who disconcerts me as much as you do.

You are leading me to show a lack of manners, for which I am heartily sorry. Please forgive me.”

The sincerity in his tone made her heart turn over. She didn’t know if she was on her head or heels. He made her pulse race with his smiles and the merest touch of his hand. Then he said something abominably rude or arrogant, and she wondered how she could possibly think him attractive.

Really, after the way he had behaved over the last week, she ought to be over her infatuation with him.

She needed to remember that he was only interested in her for her fortune, not anything else.

He had made it abundantly clear that he was sacrificing himself on the altar of familial duty.

Seeking a bride with money to support his family.

If it were not for her fortune, he would never have looked twice at her.

After an inner struggle, she said politely, “You are very gracious. I shall mind my tongue in future.”

“Pray don’t. I find the fact that I never know what you’re going to say next vastly entertaining.”

She smiled tightly and nodded but didn’t offer any further animadversions on his character for the rest of the tour.

*

By the time Robert had returned the ladies to their house and taken his leave, he had decidedly mixed feelings about the whole experience.

He could not deny that the more he saw of the lady the more intrigued he became.

There was definitely something between them, but he was damned if he knew what it was.

He wondered seriously if he could live for the rest of his life with a woman who could so accurately and devastatingly point out his faults to him.

She was certainly nothing like the woman he had envisioned one day marrying.

She was not easy or comfortable to be around, and they did not fall into a harmonious synchronicity, the kind he had always imagined his soul mate would provide.

On the contrary, she made him prickly and defensive, argued with him, and held her ground when he challenged her.

He wasn’t used to that. He realized that people toadied to him all the time, but he hadn’t realized until she pointed it out that he expected it and was mildly annoyed when they didn’t.

Miss Watson aroused a bewildering array of emotions in his breast. He had to admit he was not indifferent to her, although he was unsure if irritation or liking was uppermost, since he seemed to feel both in equal proportions.

She also sparked a physical reaction. Ever since he had taken her in his arms at Almack’s that first night, he had wanted to do it again, but the opportunity had not arisen.

His next plan of attack must include a kiss, he decided, to test that spark.

If he was going to marry the lady, he needed to be able to expect that their union would not be a chore to either of them.

All the signs were there for a felicitous physical union, but he persuaded himself that testing it was imperative. Just a kiss, nothing more.

He recalled the sensation of holding her in his arms. Her slender waist, her perfect height for kissing, as he had noted at the time. Yes, he definitely needed to get her alone and kiss her. That would be the deciding factor.

But how to contrive such a thing without causing a scandal? An idea occurred to him, and he sent off a note to Caroline to elicit her assistance.