Page 7 of Duke of Myste (Braving the Elements #3)
Elias laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet room. “Perhaps you inspire her to particular heights of eloquence. “I’ve always found that passion—even when it manifests as antagonism—suggests deeper currents beneath.”
“Spare me your romantic philosophizing,” Richard scoffed, draining his glass and setting it aside with deliberate precision. “Miss Brandon and I have reached a practical arrangement that serves both our interests. Passion, whether antagonistic or otherwise, has no place in the equation.”
“If you say so,” Elias replied, his tone making it clear that he remained unconvinced. “Though I think you might find a middle ground, if you are willing to look for it. Jane is not merely the sharp-tongued bluestocking she appears to be at first glance.”
“No?”
“No,” Elias confirmed, leaning forward slightly.
“Behind that formidable intellect and those progressive opinions that so alarm you, lies a woman of remarkable loyalty and courage. Look at what she did for her sister—placing herself directly in the path of scandal and social ruin without a moment’s hesitation.
That speaks to a character worth knowing, Richard. ”
Richard’s jaw tightened, though whether in irritation or consideration was difficult to discern.
“I have no intention of ‘knowing’ Miss Brandon beyond what is strictly necessary for a peaceful marriage,” he stated finally.
“We will maintain appropriate appearances in public and lead separate lives in private. A perfectly reasonable arrangement that has served countless aristocratic marriages before ours.”
Elias refilled his friend’s glass, shaking his head with resigned amusement. “Your capacity for self-deception remains undiminished, I see.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Richard,” Elias said patiently, as though explaining something to a particularly stubborn child.
“In all the years I’ve known you, I have never once seen you as thoroughly provoked by anyone as you are by Miss Brandon.
That woman penetrates your carefully constructed defenses with remarkable efficiency.
Do you truly believe that you can share a house—let alone a marriage—with her while maintaining your precious emotional distance? ”
Richard’s expression hardened into the mask of aristocratic disdain that had served him so well in diplomatic and social settings alike.
“I will interact with that hellion only as much as is absolutely necessary,” he declared, the uncharacteristic epithet betraying the depth of his agitation.
“Public appearances, requisite social functions – I shall fulfill the obligations society has set upon me as a husband. But beyond that? Separate wings for the house, separate daily routines, minimal private discourse. There are ample opportunities for distance within the confines of marriage, even while maintaining the facade of marital harmony.”
Elias threw his head back and laughed, a full-throated sound entirely at odds with the somber mood Richard had been cultivating.
“Oh, my friend,” he managed when his mirth had subsided, “I wish you every luck with that strategy. You will surely need it.”
Richard glared at him, affronted by his blatant skepticism. “You find my predicament amusing.”
“Immensely,” Elias admitted without a trace of shame. “The imperturbable Duke of Myste, undone by a woman who challenges his every certainty. It’s positively Shakespearean!”
“I am hardly undone,” Richard protested, his dignified tone at odds with the faint color rising above his impeccably tied cravat. “Merely… inconvenienced.”
“If you insist,” Elias conceded, though his eyes still danced with poorly suppressed mirth. “Though, I must say, for a man who claims to be merely ‘inconvenienced,’ you’ve spent most of our conversation discussing Miss Brandon’s various traits, irritating or otherwise.”
Richard opened his mouth to deliver a suitably crushing response, only to close it again as he realized the unsettling accuracy of his friend’s observation. He had, indeed, found the subject of his prospective fiancée dominating his thoughts since the grand reveal at Lady Thornton’s ball.
“The fortnight of acquaintance was her idea,” he said finally, shifting tactics. “A delaying tactic, no doubt, to seek some escape from an unwanted match.”
“Or perhaps,” Elias suggested gently, “a genuine attempt to determine whether you might build something worthwhile together. Miss Brandon has never struck me as a woman who approaches any situation without careful consideration.”
Richard’s expression remained skeptical, but some of the tension had left his shoulders. “We shall see,” he muttered grudgingly. “Though I have little hope for meaningful accord between us.”
Elias rose from his chair with fluid grace. “I would suggest keeping an open mind during your fortnight of ‘acquaintance.’ You might discover unexpected common ground with your reluctant bride.”
“And you might discover the limits of my patience with unsolicited marital advice,” Richard countered, though without genuine heat.
Elias merely smiled, unfazed by the empty threat. “I shall leave you to your brooding, then. Lydia expects me home for dinner, and unlike some, I actually enjoy my wife’s company.”
As his friend departed, Richard remained alone with his brandy and his thoughts—both more unsettling than he cared to admit.
The idea of Jane Brandon becoming his Duchess still seemed like some elaborate cosmic jest—a punishment for sins he couldn’t quite identify. Yet, beneath his outward resistance lurked an undeniable flicker of… not anticipation, surely, but perhaps curiosity.
What would it be like to share his life with a woman of such fierce intelligence and unwavering principles? How would those sharp eyes view the private world he had constructed with such care? What would that clever mind make of the responsibilities and privileges that came with his title?
He dismissed those questions as quickly as they arose, draining the last of his brandy with grim determination. Such idle speculation served no purpose. The arrangement was practical, nothing more.
If Jane Brandon believed their fortnight of acquaintance would reveal some compatibility between them, she would be sorely disappointed.
Richard had spent a lifetime perfecting the art of emotional distance, and he had no intention of abandoning that mastery now, regardless of how provocative his future Duchess might prove to be.
With that firm resolution in mind, he signaled for his coat and hat, determined to focus on the practicalities of his situation rather than the unsettling questions that Jane’s imminent presence in his life continued to raise.