Page 7 of Matters of a Duke’s Heart

Over the last several days since Lady Cardale’s ball, since Felicity had been spun around the dancefloor so many times her head still grew dizzy, since her mother had filled her mind with thoughts of the Duke of Langdon even as she was forced to maintain appearances with other suitors, Felicity had not had a moment to breathe.

At least that was how it seemed.

She woke up to breakfast where her mother chattered, reading aloud the gossip papers regarding what the Duke of Langdon was reportedly doing that day, who his friends were, if he had family, and what his favorite color was so she could arrange for Felicity to be wearing it when they undoubtedly met.

And the letter had arrived, declaring His Grace’s desire to meet with Felicity’s father.

Her stomach had been in knots all morning ever since she had heard the duke’s arrival in her home.

He had been whisked away to her father’s study while Felicity stayed in the drawing room for a potential meeting.

She had indeed agreed to it, agreed to meet the mysterious duke whom nobody seemed to have a straight story about. Every tale collided; everybody recounted conflicting events, and so Felicity had no idea of the man her mother fawned over for her.

Until his figure fell into the doorway of the drawing room, and Felicity’s eyes landed on—

No, she thought with a horrible dread. For she was surely not looking at the Duke of Langdon.

No…

Heavens, Felicity’s face slowly simmered into a hard blush. The man who entered was surely not the duke whom everybody feared and gossiped about, not when he was a man Felicity had already met.

“Good day, my lady.”

She heard the rough, annoyed voice from the evening in Vauxhall Gardens echoing through her mind, and she could only hope that he did not remember her.

Felicity thought back to how rude he had been, how she had still searched for him upon arriving at the Orchestra, how he had dismissed her and her embarrassing desperation.

So not only did she have to endure facing the strange Duke of Langdon whom she did not know, but she had to face the stranger she had humiliated herself in front of, realizing they were one and the same.

“Oh, Lord Merriweather, it seems there are sparks flying already.” Felicity’s mother’s voice brought Felicity out of her reverie, and she quickly averted her gaze. “Look at how they look at one another!”

Felicity sheepishly found her attention back on the duke. The icy blue eyes were not as cold or sharp as they had been in the Grand South Walk, but now they were rounded in surprise that he quickly shut down.

Heavens, he does indeed recognize me.

He blinked, frowned, and then looked away from her.

“They say a good match is between two that meet and look upon one another as if they have met in another lifetime,” Felicity’s mother noted, her eyes catching Felicity’s.

She cringed and waved her mother away. It sounded far too romantic for the situation, and Felicity already knew that there would be no romance to be found…

And then she realized what her mother said.

“A match?” she asked quietly.

“Indeed.” It was her father who spoke up now, stepping forward. Behind him, the duke’s almost blank stare may have been disinterest if not for the way he looked caught off guard.

And then there was Felicity’s mother whose eyes shone with excitement as she clasped her hands against her chest.

Felicity’s pulse thrummed in her wrists.

“His Grace has expressed an interest to marry you,” her father announced, and her mother could hardly hold back her noise of approval.

“I have given my blessing, for I believe His Grace is a good man. He has expressed he will make a good husband for you and provide you with an excellent future. My daughter, I…” He hesitated, glancing back at the duke before approaching Felicity and sitting alongside her.

“I know you wish for a love match, but this is a good one none the less. This is security. In time, it could lead to love. Who knows?”

“Father,” Felicity all but whispered, embarrassed, for the duke pointedly pretended as though he was not listening. “I…”

“You do not need to decide in this moment,” her father said. “His Grace wishes for a quick engagement.”

“Four days, in fact.” It was the first thing he had said to her, even beyond the forgone introductions that had been bypassed in favor of her mother’s excitement and their own concealed recognition of one another.

“Four days?” Felicity echoed, her voice high and cracking, as she tacked on, “Your Grace.”

Those blue eyes flicked to her, and he nodded, as curt as he had been in the gardens.

“Lady Felicity, I do not wish to pull you into the gossip mill that has surrounded me following… many things. Especially since my intentions to wed were announced. Furthermore, I do not wish to deal with the hassle that is the ton women trying to curry favor at another social event when I can simply announce our own engagement.”

Everything was so… so formal.

It struck Felicity just how business-like it all sounded. She had overheard her father conduct business meetings with more warmth than this room had.

All she could hear was the cold dismissal with which he had turned her away when she’d been lost and alone in the gardens.

And to think she had searched for him afterwards. Never in her life had she thought he was the same, supposedly good man who had abandoned a lady in need.

“Four days,” she repeated. “In four days, Your Grace, you wish to turn my life around. That is hardly enough time, whether your intentions are good or not regarding my reputation. It might save me from the current rumors, but there will be other speculations.”

“And I will handle it.”

The sharp, confident declaration clearly wooed her mother, for she pressed a hand to her clavicle, her mouth parting as she gazed on at the duke. Perhaps this was really what she wanted for Felicity: a man to handle things for her. What of Felicity’s own wants?

“We ought to give you a moment to speak alone,” Felicity’s mother suggested. “Your lady’s maid shall be just outside the door. It will be left open.”

Felicity didn’t even have a moment to be insulted at the precaution. As if she would ever venture into such questionable moments with a man she did not know, and one as rude as this stranger.

Once the drawing room left only the two of them, Felicity did not quite know how to break the silence. The clock against the wall tick, tick, ticked away, counting the seconds. How many more of those did she have in the remaining days before…

Heavens, she thought, unable to even ponder the word wedding.

It was another counted minute before the duke spoke up. “I see you made it home that night.”

Felicity cut an insulted glare in his direction. “Without any gratitude to yourself, Your Grace, yes, I did. In fact, I found my way before the fireworks even began.”

“Good,” he answered, his voice low as he hovered near the doorway, still.

Felicity remained seated on the pale blue settee.

“I trust you did not further throw yourself in the direction of any other men. If you did, I must know, should any man might come to claim your hand in the name of scandal ahead of the wedding ceremony.”

Felicity scoffed, turning her face away from him. But her mother’s warnings of being a proper lady lingered. That morning, she had reminded her that if she did not give a man a chance how would she ever know if he was her love match?

This cold, brusque stranger was definitely not that. Yet Felicity turned her attention back to him all the same.

How does one know if there is love to be found in a match?

She searched his eyes, so icy it almost chilled her.

He held such an unreadable expression. “Forgive me for the way I threw my hand out to get your attention. I… I was desperate and admittedly afraid. There was a great crush of people at the entrance of Vauxhall Gardens, and I got separated from my family. Lady Daphne, my sister, has recently debuted. She was ever so excited about the event that evening, so I did not want her to worry about my absence when she should have been dancing. Other than that, I was… well, I admit I was rather worried about being caught alone. I thought you could help me. Now I know who you are, I might suggest it would have been nice to know that the very rumored Duke of Langdon was a helpful, generous man who helped a lost lady.”

His gaze had fixed on the window of the drawing room over her head but it now slid back to her. “You were truly lost?”

“Truly,” she answered, narrowing her eyes. “Forgive me, Your Grace, but why are you questioning it?”

He looked away, a muscle in his cheek fluttering as he worked through words before he finally answered.

“Many ladies, or their mamas, or perhaps both in tandem, enjoy tricking influential men into marriage by arranging a scandalous scene to be caught in.” He sighed, lifting a hand to his dark hair as if to brush it back before lowering his hand.

“I apologize, my lady. I see now you did not mean to cause anything of the sort. However, I was not to know your genuine character. I am a cautious man.”

“You wish to marry me in four days,” she replied, almost too curtly. “That does not seem like caution.”

“It appears impulsiveness has been a fault of mine as of late.” He let out a dry laugh, one that she didn’t understand, but she had to wonder if he referred to his walking away from her.

The duke hesitated, his eyes darting to the space next to her on the settee. The stiffness in his body was almost unbearable.

We are to be wed, Felicity thought. Yet he can barely relax.

And because she realized that they would share far more than a room’s space, she discreetly shifted aside to allow more room on the settee next to her without offering the seat directly. He took it, gratefully inclining his head as he seemed to shed some formal proprietary.

“Allow me to speak frankly, Lady Felicity,” he offered.