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A rabella picked up her water glass, then put it down, then picked it up again, aware of how foolish she looked.

She felt foolish. This whole affair was a nightmare. And she had been the one who had asked the duke to eat dinners with her—why had she done that? What had she been thinking? That it would be enjoyable? It wasn’t enjoyable in the least.

Which wasn’t to say that she disliked him or disdained his company. He was all right to be around. It was just that she had no idea what to say to him, no idea how to engage him in conversation.

He cleared his throat. “I saw your father today.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure how to respond, but of course a response was called for. “Did—did that go well?”

“I must confess that I found him a bit trying. He was nearly unwilling to accept the money I was attempting to give him. I really should have made sure that was an arrangement you two had agreed upon before I accepted it.” He stabbed his fork into a bite of meat, seeming genuinely frustrated.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have asked him.”

“Oh, it isn’t your fault. You can’t control how stubborn your father is. I know that.” He paused for a moment, looking as though he might be reflecting on something. “I know a thing or two about difficult fathers.”

Did he? She felt an urge to ask him to elaborate on that. But the two of them were nearly strangers to one another, and it didn’t feel right to ask him any personal questions. The only thing she could manage to say was, “Did he take it in the end?”

“He did. But he forced me to invest in one of his business ventures. Not that I mind, really. The point was to get the money into his hands, and I’ve done that now.”

“Well… thank you,” Arabella said, not quite sure what was appropriate for this moment.

The Duke gave her a roguish wink in response.

Discomfort gripped her. “Your Grace…”

“William,” he said, grinning at her. “We’re married now, aren’t we? You may as well call me by my name. William, please.”

“William,” she allowed, even though it was uncomfortable to do so.

Using his given name like that—it implied they were friends, didn’t it?

It hinted at a closeness that didn’t exist. They both knew what this marriage was for, what it was meant to accomplish.

They were saving her reputation. That was all it was.

Except—no, that wasn’t all it was. Of course not.

He had married her for a reason, too, and whatever that reason was, it didn’t have anything to do with her reputation.

Maybe this was a clue. Maybe his desire to be called by his name, as well as the wink, could tell her something about what it was he really wanted from her.

She drew a breath, reminding herself that she had had something to say to him before he had distracted her with his name. “William, I’m grateful to you for agreeing to dine with me.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. In fact, it’s my pleasure to have such a pretty dinner companion,” he said with a smile. “A great improvement over eating alone, I must say.”

“But it’s things like that,” she said, forcing herself to continue. “Truly, I don’t know what to make of it when you speak to me that way.”

“What do you mean?”

“As if I’m someone you admire,” she said. ‘As if you think I’m… pretty.” That was the word he had used. It felt strange to say it. Arabella was unremarkable looking. She knew that.

But he shook his head. “Why can’t I think you’re pretty?” he asked her. “I find you quite engaging, actually. Your eyes are something to behold. It’s as if I’m gazing into the stars.”

“Did you read that in a book or something?” She looked away from him deliberately, not wanting to allow him to do any stargazing. “You don’t truly think my eyes are like stars, and you don’t have to try to woo me because we’re already married, so I don’t know what you’re doing or why.”

“I can’t pay my wife a compliment?”

“We said before we took our vows that this wasn’t going to be a conventional marriage,” she reminded him. “You aren’t interested in having a wife you can compliment. You aren’t singing my praises because you truly think I’m beautiful.”

He sat back and regarded her, eyebrows raised. “All right,” he said. “If that’s not my reason, then why am I doing it?”

For a moment, she wondered whether she had offended him. But a smile was playing at the edges of his lips, and she knew that wasn’t the case. He was amused, not offended. He thought she was funny.

It made her that much angrier. “I don’t know why you’re doing it,” she snapped. “But whatever you want, you may as well just come out and tell me because I might give it to you. Whereas you’ll get nowhere playing these games.”

He chuckled. “You really can’t believe the best of anyone, can you? It’s not a possibility that I’m just trying to be nice to you?”

“You aren’t being nice to me,” she told him. “You’re flattering me. It’s entirely different.”

“I see. And what would I do if I was being nice?” he asked. “Because I’ve done all I can think of to make you feel welcome. I’ve given you the finest chamber in the house, secured a lady’s maid for your comfort, and granted you the freedom to go where you please. Was that not enough?”

He had a point of course, and Arabella was on the verge of an apology when she recalled what she had spent her day doing.

“I was in your study today,” she told him, wondering if now she would provoke his ire.

“Were you?” he asked, calm and even.

She nodded. “Mrs. Billings gave me a tour. She said you might not want me in there, but she also told me that you’d said I could go anywhere I liked.”

“I did say that,” he agreed. “All right, so you went into the study. How did you enjoy that?”

“Well, you had left your ledgers on the desk.”

“And I assume you looked at them.”

“You assume?”

“Am I mistaken?” he asked. “You seem not to hesitate about involving yourself in things. And if you hadn’t looked at my books, you wouldn’t be bringing this up with me now—isn’t that right?”

There wasn’t any point in trying to deny it since he was right. “I couldn’t help noticing that your books aren’t very well kept,” she said. “You don’t seem to track your finances in any reliable way.”

“And that bothers you?”

“Your figures are on the decline. You spend more than you bring in.”

“That isn’t a problem,” he said. “I have more than enough.”

“But how can you know that it isn’t a problem?

” she pressed him. “If you aren’t keeping careful track of all your expenditures, how can you be sure that you won’t spend more than you mean to?

You think you’ve got enough right now, but that can change in a heartbeat.

So quickly, you can find yourself with nothing. ”

That was the way it had been for her family. They had never been wealthy, but they had been all right. And then her father had come into his title and along with it, his debt.

From the moment that had happened, it had been clear to Arabella that he had never been the kind of man who knew how to protect his finances.

He was a gambler and a drinker, and he’d delved deeper into those vices after becoming a baron.

These days, he had withdrawn a bit from those things, returned to his family, and become ever so slightly more responsible, but Arabella could never shake the knowledge that he might have been able to spare their family some of the grief they had faced if only he had been more responsible.

I might not even have been forced to marry William , she realized. After all, this is only happening because my gown was so tatty that I had to try to fix it in the middle of the ball. If I’d had something newer to wear, that would never have happened .

But she found she couldn’t quite summon the bitterness she would have expected about that topic. Her marriage to the Duke might be unexpected and a bit troublesome, but it didn’t make her feel angry or resentful. Not anymore.

Even so, the concerns she had about the Duke’s financial affairs remained. “You have to do a better job of keeping records,” she told him. “If you don’t, you could find yourself with nothing one day.”

“Well, that isn’t going to happen,” he said with a light laugh. “I have plenty of money, Arabella. There’s no need to worry about this.”

He obviously meant that to be comforting, but instead, it sparked anger in Arabella’s heart. I have plenty of money . So much money that there was no need for him to be careful. So much money that he could laugh at the very idea of keeping diligent records.

The most maddening part was that he was probably right.

He probably didn’t need to keep good records of anything.

He would have as much money as he needed for the rest of his life, even if he persisted in being deeply irresponsible with it.

He could easily laugh off the idea of being careful with his finances because that simply wasn’t something he had to think about.

And for someone like Arabella, who had spent years of her life worrying over every coin, it was too much to bear.

“You care a great deal about this, don’t you?” he asked, watching her closely.

“I think it’s important,” she told him quietly.

“Well, you’re free to do what you like,” he said. “I’ll put you in charge of the books if that would make you feel more at ease.”

Arabella didn’t know how to respond to that. It was the last thing she had expected him to say. “How can I be in charge of your books?” she demanded. “I don’t know what belongs in them. I don’t know what you spend your money on.”

“Well, I can easily tell you,” he suggested.

“I can have all the financials go through you. And, truly, Arabella, this is not something that needs to be done. I’m offering it to you for your comfort; I’m not trying to burden you with a responsibility.

If you don’t wish to take over the books, you don’t have to do so. ”

“Someone has to do it,” Arabella said, unable to explain exactly why she felt so ill at ease. “I’ll do it if you won’t. But I think you should. I don’t know what you would have done if I hadn’t come along.”

“I don’t know what you would have done if I hadn’t come along—other than being left in disgrace,” he countered. “It’s all right for us to admit we need each other for some things.”

She wanted to snap that she didn’t need him for anything, but of course, his point was absolutely correct even though she didn’t like it.

He had turned his attention back to his food. “Tomorrow,” he told her, “you’ll be going into town along with your sisters to purchase new gowns for a dinner party at my expense. I would plan on marking down how much you spend, so you will be able to record it in the books.”

He smiled at her. It wasn’t an unkind smile, but there was something so self-satisfied about it—as if he had gotten his way and he knew it—that Arabella simmered.

Unable to bear speaking to him any longer, she turned her attention to her food.