Page 42 of Second Duke's the Charm

“Speaking of rumors…” He slid his arm around her back and they moved into the first turn. “I’ve started one of my own. You were worried that you’d be judged for the hastiness of our engagement, so I told Edwardin the strictest confidencethat our ‘romance’ is long-standing, but secret.”

Tess chuckled. “Telling anyone ‘in the strictest confidence’ is a guarantee that it’ll be all over London by midnight. What did you say?”

His eyes rested on her face. “That I fell in love with you the first time I ever saw you, at Lord Ogilvy’s two years ago.”

Tess frowned. “Were you actually there? We were never introduced.”

She’d never have forgotten meeting him.

“No, we were not. You weren’t even aware of my existence. I was a country merchant far below your notice. I knew you were destined for a brilliant match. But I never stopped thinking about you. Dreaming about you. About what might have been.”

God, he was a magician.His words wrapped around her like a spell, convincing her of his sincerity even when she knew it was just a fairy tale to disguise the true, far less romantic agreement they’d made.

For an instant she wondered what would have happened if they’d truly met back then. No good would have come of it. Still, she played along with his foolish fantasy.

“I suppose I fell madly in love with you, too, after only one dance?”

His lips twitched in appreciation.

“Of course you did. We were both young and ridiculously impulsive. Like Romeo and Juliet.”

“And our romance was equally doomed.” She added some dramatic flair to her tone. “My father wouldn’t hear of me marrying a penniless upstart.”

“Pennilessyet irresistibleupstart,” he amended. “We were tempted to elope to Gretna Green—”

“But our plan was stopped when I was locked in my room and forced to marry the duke.” Tess shook her headwith mock gravity, making a joke of what was horribly close to the truth. “We were both brokenhearted. You, poor love-wracked fool, couldn’t bear to be in the same country. To see me with another man was worse than death. So you set sail for shores unknown—”

“Canada,” he said dryly. “Not entirely undiscovered.”

“—vowing never to love again. Every woman you met after me was just a poor imitation, a substitute who never claimed your heart.”

“You’re very good at this. Have you considered penning a novel?”

Tess bit back a laugh. “Occasionally.”

“Which brings us back to last week,” he said. “When I saw you across Lady Iveson’s dance floor, a vision in red satin. Against all the odds, I discovered that not only were you single, but that the torch of your love for me had never gone out.”

“That’s rather romantic, for someone who claims not to believe in love.”

His smile was bittersweet. “I didn’t say I didn’t believe in it. I said it was stupid and illogical.”

“So, you think people will believe this fairy tale?”

“Some of them already do. Just before you arrived two elderly ladies congratulated me on my unexpected inheritance and asked if I thought I’d be luckier ‘this time around.’”

“You think they were talking about me?”

“About us,” he corrected. “And yes. The only thing thetonsecretly loves more than a scandal is a happy ending.”

“Even if it’s make-believe?”

“Why else do you think Drury Lane’s stalls are packed every night? Most people want to dream it’s possible. Even if it never happens to them.”

His cynicism was a little dampening, but Tess refusedto let it ruin her evening. “Well, I’m glad I won’t be seen as quite such an easy conquest.”

“I’ll be the one everyone thinks is a besotted fool.”

Tess shrugged. “Even that’s to your advantage. It might dissuade some of those matchmaking mothers from thrusting their pretty daughters at you.”