He raised an eyebrow at his betrothed, and again she was unable to meet his eye.
"Of course I do," she nodded. "Why would I not?"
"Because we are strangers, and because you do not seem best pleased with any of this. I will not be forcing your hand, and so if this is not what you want then I will walk away now. The choice is yours."
But he knew that she would not refuse him. She could not do so, not with her parents watching her. He did not dare think what might happen if she rejected a duke's proposal that had been arranged for her. Even the most loving parents would have been against it, and Morgan was not at all convinced that she was in a loving family to begin with.
It was precisely why he needed to have time with her alone.
"Would you like to promenade with me?"
"Yes, Your Grace."
"Very well. I will be here to collect you in the morning."
"Why not go now?" the Earl asked. "It is a fine day, and the sooner we have all of this arranged the better."
"I understand that, but I am in no rush. I would like to spend what little time we have before the wedding coming to know my fiancée, but I will not pretend that if she does not wish to marry me I will force her hand. I would much sooner walk away before too many know that we are already engaged."
"But you are here to sign the marriage contract!"
The fear in Lady Dorothy's eyes told Morgan that she had not been made aware of that.
"That can wait until tomorrow, can it not? What is one more day? Besides, I will not change my mind about this. Your daughter will only be my wife if she chooses to be, and you will not do anything to force her. I will learn of it, and then I will ensure that thetonis made aware of what your family does."
As he said it, he wondered just how empty the threat he had made was. He had expected it to mean nothing, but as he said it he did indeed consider ensuring society knew of their wedding tactics.
"I should like to promenade with you tomorrow, Your Grace," Lady Dorothy said politely. "It has been a while since I saw the lake."
"Then that is where we shall go tomorrow afternoon. You can bring your lady's maid with you as your chaperone."
Fortunately, there were no further protests. He made his promise to see her the following day, and then took his leave. He hoped that the rest of her day would not be too dreadful, but he was not entirely convinced. The Earl and Countess were not the worst people that he had ever met, especially given the characters his brother had liked to bring home, but something about them made him dislike them and he hoped that would change. He wanted so badly to have misjudged them, as his wife would need to have someone in her life that she could talk to, as he could not be that person.
He hoped that she would understand that.
The moment the door closed, Dorothy knew that she would be in for it.
"The nerve!" her mother gasped. "To come into our home and speak to us that way– it is deplorable!"
"Well, you hardly helped, Louisa," her father sighed. "He seems to want to hear what she has to say. You should have remained quiet."
"But why does he care what she thinks? He is not going to bargain with the next mare he wishes to buy, is he?"
Dorothy pretended that her mother had not just called her a horse.
"Do you want this match to work or not?" her father continued. "If we want to see her married, we must do as the Duke says whether we agree with it or not. We do not have the luxury of dictating what a man such as himself can and cannot do."
Her mother sighed, pressing her hand to her forehead. She had never liked being told what to do, and it was fortunate that her parents rarely disagreed. She did not do well when she was told that she had done something wrong. She felt offended, slighted, and she did not know how to respond to such feelings beyond expressing anger.
"Very well," she sighed before turning to Dorothy. "You should consider yourself lucky that this man seems to care about how you feel, but mark my words. You will promenade with him, you will express gratitude for it, and you will marry him. I do not care how many times he asks you, nor how sincere he seems to be, you will not tell him that you do not want this match. Am I making myself clear?"
"Yes, Mother, of course. I would never do anything to ruin this match."
At last, her mother seemed to calm herself. She composed herself and left the room. Dorothy was going to follow her, but then her father called her back. Bristling slightly, she turned back and sat with him.
"That was perhaps not the ideal first meeting between the two of you."
"No. I know, I should have been more willing. It is my fault."