Page 27 of His Unwanted Duchess

“I absolutely am not.”

“… I suggest we get down to business. I was surprised to get your note, and more surprised still when a white-faced, terrified boy delivered it. Your brother, I guess?”

She bit her lip. “Did you speak to him?”

“No, Mouse dealt with him. I thought it must have been an important message if the only one you could truly trust was your brother. And now, here you are—sans maid, again.”

“Well, my reputation is already shredded,” Beatrice said, with a little more bitterness than she had intended. “In for a penny, in for a pound.”

The Duke shot her a long, thoughtful look. Beatrice kept her gaze fixed on the garden. She couldn’t make out much, beyond tree-like shapes that swayed in the wind, and the occasional white glint of a raked-gravel path. She couldfeelthe Duke’s gaze on her, though, those sharp green eyes roaming over her face and form.

What does he see when he looks at me?

At once, she gave herself a small shake.

It doesn’t matter what he thinks of me. It only matters what he is willing to do for me.

It only matters if he can help us.

“If you say so,” the Duke said, at last. “Nobody will know that you are here, I can assure you of that. My servants are well-paid for their discretion, and I assume you were not foolish enough to hire a cab to come here again.”

“No,” she said quietly. “I borrowed one of Anna’s carriages.”

“There you are, then. Theodore’s servants are well-trained and will not gossip. You could leave now, Miss Haversham, this very moment, and your reputation would remain intact. I suspect, however, that you will not.”

She let out a long, slow sigh.

How did I get here?

“I wish I hadn’t come.”

Beatrice risked a glance up at the Duke just in time to see his face twitch with something like annoyance, his lips pursed.

“Then why didyou come, Miss Haversham?” he snapped. “Do you believe that I have nothing to do but sit around and wait for you to call? I believe I have made my requests very clear. If you came to bargain, don’t bother. If you came to be seduced, well then, perhaps we can talk.”

She rolled her eyes. “Goodness, Your Grace, I don’t believe anyone could love you as well as you love yourself. No, I am not here to bargain, and certainly not to be seduced. Or to do the seducing.”

He looked away, the firelight playing over his profile.

At least I’ll have a handsome husband to look at for the rest of my life.

“You are an intriguing young woman, Miss Haversham.”

“Don’t you mean infuriating?”

He smiled wryly down at her. “No, I do not.”

“Hm. Anyway, I came to tell you—in person, as it seemed more polite—that I will accept your offer. I will marry you, Your Grace.”

He stared down at her for a long moment.

“I see,” he said, his expression neutral and giving nothing away. “Well, what a development. I think perhaps we should go indoors. You are clearly quite cold, Miss Haversham, and we have a great deal to discuss.”

CHAPTER 9

Cursing Mouse and his misplaced pride, Stephen led the way back through his conservatory. He noticed, in an absent sort of way, that theMusa Basjooand the Angel’s Trumpet needed a little care, perhaps repotting or trimming, but that would have to wait until later. He would not have time to complete the task himself, and so one of the more trusted footmen or enterprising maids might carry it out.

Better yet, he could simply ask Mouse to do it.

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